Dr. Rosemary H. Cohen

Wherever I travel, I pay attention to the beggars in the streets. It shows the mood of the city and the situation of the country. In...

First in a series.  Returning from a whirlwind trip to Vienna, Armenia and Paris that was socially and culturally intensive, I will try to take...

I would like to dedicate my three-part essay that will start on Friday to the memory of our dear Diane Agate, the late wife...

 Re: “ ‘They Killed Me Family’”    When I wrote The Survivor, I could relate even more to my grandmother’s pain. In 1992, my 18-year-old daughter...

  Thank you for inviting me this evening to celebrate together the lives of today’s Armenians, and at the same time to remember and honor...

Fourth in a series. Going back to our picnic at the beginning of my story, I was shocked, as any young person might have been, to see this unusual looking woman, Mademoiselle Marika. We considered her old. We wondered why she had joined us, spoiling our outing.

Third in a series.The spurned Iranian officer who shot and paralyzed Mademoiselle Marika in a jealous fit served his three-year jail sentence, but when he was freed, he found the act had ruined his life. He may never again have been happy. Marika remained hospitalized for months. Doctors tried every known remedy. They came up empty. Her faithful fiancé stayed by her bedside for these months. When she learned of her fate, though, she returned her engagement ring and asked him to leave her ...

Second in a series. Mademoiselle Marika wanted to accompany us on our picnic in Tehran, where all of us were living, even though she was handicapped. We just did not know to what extent. Retreating was not in her makeup. To us she was considered a stranger because she was European. On the day of the picnic when our friend arrived with a big brown van, he opened the door and ...

First of three parts.Mademoiselle Marika was known for many reasons. As a young girl, she was beautiful and well educated. She spoke French. Greek was her native language, and Mademoiselle Marika spoke Farsi because she lived with her parents in Tehran. Later events in her life made her ...

I even was able to see that the dog was in a loving family. I was sure they took good care of him. He looked clean and happy. He had a friend, a companion of his age. It should be nicer for him to eat and sleep with a friend than to be lonely in our house, remembering the old memories of Cocot, Minou, Caliber and Voltaire over and over.