EXTRAORDINARY LIFE
Childhood Of Poverty Led To Acts Of Generosity
Alexander Nweeia, 82, of West Hartford, died March 2.
By ANNE M. HAMILTON | Special to The Courant
May 18, 2008
Ameer said Assyrians, who are descended from the ancient Babylonians, have been Christian since the second century. They lived in what is now Turkey and Iran but fled because of discrimination and genocide. One branch is Eastern Orthodox while the other is Presbyterian, and the Nweeia family worshipped at the Assyrian Presbyterian Church in Yonkers. (Young Al won pins for perfect attendance at Sunday School, which he treasured even in adulthood.) Prayers and worship services were in English and Assyrian, which is close linguistically to Aramaic. Nweeia and his siblings spoke Assyrian at home and learned English at school.
"Extraordinary Life" looks back each Sunday on someone whose life made a difference.
Al Nweeia grew up outside New York, an Assyrian whose Christian roots go back to the second century. His parents were born in Iran, where Assyrians made up a sizable minority, and settled in Yonkers.
He was the oldest of five children, and, growing up in the Depression, had to go to work early to help support his family. His mother, Sophie, was a homemaker and his father, Isaac, a factory worker.
According to a family legend, Al Nweeia was so humiliated by being on the public dole for a short time that he vowed he would never again be poor.
He shined shoes, sold newspapers, ushered at the movie house and worked as a cashier for the ferry from Yonkers to New Jersey. Money was tight with him and all his friends, and no one could afford a bike, but with the credits he received from delivering newspapers, he bought a two-wheeler and rode his buddy Bill Kambar around on the handlebars. Their travels took them to the Palisades in New Jersey, where they would carry the bike up a long stairway, then coast back down to the ferry slip.
The Yonkers where Nweeia grew up was a community of Assyrians, Irish, Italians and Jews. "It was a thriving industrial city," said John Ameer, who wrote "Assyrians in Yonkers: Reminiscences of a Community." "It was urban, but not like urban now. It was a wonderful place."
Ameer said Assyrians, who are descended from the ancient Babylonians, have been Christian since the second century. They lived in what is now Turkey and Iran but fled because of discrimination and genocide. One branch is Eastern Orthodox while the other is Presbyterian, and the Nweeia family worshipped at the Assyrian Presbyterian Church in Yonkers. (Young Al won pins for perfect attendance at Sunday School, which he treasured even in adulthood.) Prayers and worship services were in English and Assyrian, which is close linguistically to Aramaic. Nweeia and his siblings spoke Assyrian at home and learned English at school.
He was a serious boy who attended Saunders Trades and Technical High School, intending to be an electrician. Although he still had a semester left before finishing, he was allowed to graduate in June 1942 as the country shifted into war mode. He was too poor to buy the school uniform of white pants and shirt, but a teacher gave him the money to buy one, and years later, Nweeia made gifts to the school to outfit students.
Within a few months of graduation, Nweeia was drafted. At the induction site, the Army and Navy were alternating and taking men in sequence, so Nweeia changed his place in line so he would be assigned to the Navy, his first choice.
He volunteered for the submarine service and served in the Pacific from 1943 to 1946. The Navy was testing a new system to sense objects by sounds, and he was one of a small group who helped develop the acoustical torpedo.
After the war, Nweeia married Nellie Lazar, who had grown up in the Assyrian community in New Britain. She was a hairdresser, and after seeing how hard she was working, he wanted to provide an opportunity for her talents to flourish. Then, on a dare from his wife, Nweeia decided to follow in her career footsteps.
"Dad was looking for electronics work," said Martin Nweeia, their younger son, but Nellie was urging him to join her in a beauty parlor. "Dad said, 'I could do that.' She kind of laughed, and he decided to get trained."
An old beauty salon on the second floor of a building on Farmington Avenue in West Hartford was available. It needed lots of paint, equipment and sprucing up, but the price was surprisingly low.
"My dad bought it, to my mom's chagrin," said Martin. "She was not a risk-taker." Alex went to school and obtained a beautician's license while his wife worked in the shop. He then joined her.
"He did very well with it. Heads of hair put us through college," said Martin. After about 10 years, the downstairs space became available, and the Kingswood Beauty Salon moved into a more visible spot.
But Nweeia had a broader vision. He started a credit union for hair stylists and was active in the hairdressers' trade association. He served for years on its board of directors and was elected president of the National Hairdressers and Cosmetologists Association in 1980. In this position, he oversaw the redecoration of the beauty salon in the Reagan White House.
Al "could have made it in electronics," said Ameer, but he stayed with hairdressing. "Typical of Al, he became an expert."
Nweeia moved to West Hartford and slowly became active in Republican politics. He was active in Gerald Ford's presidential campaign. He was active in the First Church of Christ, president of the local multiple sclerosis society and on its national board of directors. He was a 32nd degree Mason.
"What he did, he did well," said his sister Lillian Sargis. "He always achieved whatever he set out to do." He cared for his wife, who had Parkinson's disease for many years, until her death in November. He died in a head-on automobile accident. He had an easy way with people and a sense of playfulness that put everyone at ease. "The bank teller and the president were all the same to him," said his son.
Nweeia made up for his lack of formal education by reading widely. "His living room was like the Discovery Channel," said Ameer. "He read extensively in all fields."
He loved to swim daily, and he was a regular at the Cornerstone Aquatics Center in West Hartford. He liked to hand out treats; he was known as the Candy Man.
"He told everyone he was so poor [as a child]," said Jaimie Lassy, aquatics instructor at the pool. "To be able to share every day was so amazing. He loved to share."
|
Enlarge
