The Ararat Grocery Warehouse at 150 Commercial Street in Boston. (Image credit: Marc Mamigonian.)

By Jessica Dello Russo

Special to the Mirror-Spectator

BOSTON — The Armenian Heritage Park on The Greenway is one of the main entrances to the North End/Waterfront neighborhood from the Wharf District and Faneuil Hall. Its size and location make it hard to miss as you walk through the Rose Kennedy Greenway. A closer look rewards you with more insight into the Park’s features, such as a walkable Labyrinth, towering, shape-shifting Abstract Sculpture,  fountain, and benches around the Park’s leafy enclosure. The Park’s accessible layout offers visitors various ways to engage with the space. As a close neighbor, I walk by the Park almost daily while entering and exiting the North End.

Decades ago, I would have only overheard the cooing of pigeons perched on the rusting steel beams of the old Fitzgerald Expressway. I have vivid childhood memories of noise, darkness, stagnant water, decaying litter and a host of unpleasant smells in the area where the park now stands. At the time, I was too young to comprehend the consequences of the highway’s impending demolition and the changes to follow.

An invitation to speak about Italian heritage in the North End as part of the Park’s series, “Celebrating What Unites Us!” co-sponsored by the Friends of Armenian Heritage Park and the City of Boston’s Office for Immigration Advancement, not only inspired the personal reflections shared above, but also genuine curiosity about the connections between the Armenian and Italian communities in Boston. Despite the city’s historical parochialism, interactions among native Bostonians often lead to personal connections (as it turns out, the event organizer, Barbara Tellalian, and I had attended the same grade school).

Thanks to my involvement in a recent photo digitization project focused on the North End, I was already aware of a fascinating Armenian-Italian connection in Boston that dates back to the China Trade Era, from 1783 to the 1850s. The photo I had in mind depicts a group of Italian Americans with the men in uniform and their elegantly dressed wives, all standing in front of a statue of Christopher Columbus. The iconic backdrop of this scene is undoubtedly Louisburg Square.

The Bark “Armenia” Entering Smyrna Bay, 1860. Original watercolor by Raffaele Corsini. Private collection. https://tert.nla.am/archive/NLA%20TERT/Armenian%20weekly/1970/43_ocr.pdf]

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The Columbus statue is one of two marble statues, likely of Italian manufacture, that were erected in this privately owned park in the mid-nineteenth century. The other statue represents the ancient Athenian statesman Aristides, perhaps as a subtle nod to Boston being referred to as the “Athens of America.” Both statues were donated by merchants with family ties to Smyrna, which is today known as Izmir in Turkey.

The Marquis Nicholas Reggio (1807-1867), of Genoese descent but born in Smyrna, is said to have donated the statue of Columbus. Meanwhile, his fellow Smyrinote of Armenian heritage, Joseph Iasigi (1800-1877), is credited with arranging the dedication of the statue of the Classical hero, who later earned the nickname “Uncle Louie” from college students living nearby.

In the early 1830s, Reggio and Iasigi were “exotic” fixtures in Boston. Their wealth and international connections facilitated their acceptance into Boston society, aided by their willingness to assimilate; for example, Niccolò became Nicholas, and Josef Yasigi, also known as Yazejian, adopted a more Italian-sounding name, Iasigi/Iasici. As ship owners and traders, their offices on the centrally located Boston wharves became hubs for Mediterranean trade. Partnering with Yankee merchants, they engaged in trading fruits, wines, carpets, spices, and other goods, and, like their Yankee counterparts, they were also involved in the opium trade. The effects of this drug were felt not only in distant China but also quite close to home, particularly in the “Black Sea” area of the Boston wharves, adjacent to what is now the Armenian Heritage Park.

The “safe and profitable” trade in Ottoman products attracted more traders from prominent Armenian mercantile families, including Vincent Azarian. Around 1840, he established the merchant shipping firm Azarian & Company on India Wharf. Although his ships operated under the American flag, his newly built 400-ton bark, launched in Newburyport in 1859, was named “Armenia.” The Italian artist Raffaele Corsini painted this ship at the end of its maiden voyage from Boston to Smyrna in 1860. In Corsini’s watercolor, the maritime flag displaying “Armenia” is proudly on display.

Abstract Sculpture at Armenian Heritage Park. Photo credit: Matt Conti

Meanwhile, Iasigi’s Race Horse clipper ship lived up to its name by setting a record in 1850 for the New York-San Francisco route. Shortly after, it departed for Smyrna carrying American Protestant missionaries to the Armenian community there. Within the exclusive circle of Boston’s merchant elite who had their own distinctive signal flags, the most notable “exotic” names were associated with Iasigi & Goddard, and V. Azarian & Co. Today, you can see a reproduction of Azarian’s flag in the rotunda of the Boston Custom House, which is open to the public. The building is just one block away from the Armenian Heritage Park.

Until the late 19th century, Armenian merchants were a unique and prominent presence in Boston. Arriving with strong recommendations, they quickly became integral to the business community due to their social and diplomatic connections. The Armenian population in Massachusetts grew significantly during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. This surge was primarily driven by the dire circumstances of persecution, making immigration to the United States a matter of survival. Along Long Wharf, there were not only offices for shipping companies but also an immigration processing center. Despite facing numerous challenges, many Armenians managed to preserve their ethnic identity while adapting to the laws and customs of the United States.

This historic period of mass immigration is still fresh in memory. At the end of my street in the North End, a faded sign still advertises the import firm of George Armenis, whose last name suggests Greek or Armenian descent. On more solid ground, Barbara connected me with the Ararat Grocery family, who had a warehouse on Commercial Street until the 1960s, just a block from the Armenian Heritage Park. They also operated a retail store on the other side of the North End at 9 Endicott Street.

Twentieth-century city directories listed other Armenian-owned import companies in the area, such as Arax Grocery Company on Fulton Street. These businesses coexisted alongside storerooms and factories owned by Italians, Jews and other immigrant groups. The street index locates dealers in dried and fresh fruits, spices, wine, olive oil, dairy, meats, poultry, fish, grains, chocolate, candy, and more, providing a tantalizing glimpse into Quincy Market’s final decades as a food hub. While many businesses competed with one another, the market district that extended into today’s North End was a common denominator of success for immigrants from various backgrounds.

Of course, this was long before streets like Fulton and Commercial became primarily residential, as they are today. Businesses used to close at night, and workers would return to their homes, mostly in the city’s outer neighborhoods and the suburbs. Instead of Italian restaurants, luncheonettes served as key social contact points. During the daytime, waterfront taverns were busy serving the working waterfront, and there were storefronts and stands offering virtually every kind of good or service.

The North End Waterfront only became a virtual “ghost town” in the post-World War II era of the 1950s and 60s. The elevated highway cut off the North End from the rest of central Boston, and the new wholesale produce market opened in Chelsea in 1968. Historic wharves like T-Wharf were demolished or dramatically restructured. However, this revival of a depressed urban area no longer required the tearing down of entire neighborhoods. Instead, the buildings began to “glitter,” as a New York Times article described in 1976, indicating they were ready for new opportunities.

Eventually, this transformation included the creation of the Rose Kennedy Greenway and its Armenian Heritage Park. In a unique turn of events, Armenians returned to the old Boston Waterfront, where they had previously opened the portals of the Mediterranean to Boston, forever altering the city’s destiny and their own.

(Jessica Dello Russo, Ph.D. serves on the Board of Directors of the North End Historical Society.)

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