Tsaoussis Family
“What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.” – Pericles.
We begin my father’s journey in America at the end of his life’s journey. At my dad’s funeral, our family, beloved friend and spiritual leader His Eminence Archbishop Iakovos said, “Here lies a just man who had no enemies.” How true, even if you disagreed with my dad you respected and admired him because he was a kind, wise and just man. At his funeral, people came to me saying, “You don’t know me, but your father helped me/my family by doing xyz.”
Dad’s parents survived the genocide in Turkey and escaped to Maroussi where they raised their family. Dad joined the Royal Navy as an officer on the King’s Ship. He met my mother Maria at a name day festival, and it was truly love at first sight. In the early ’50s, my papou and yiayia moved to New York in hopes of a fresh start. My yiayia swore she would die if her son did not come to live near her. My dad at the time was a successful First Officer in the Greek Merchant Marines, but a more important duty called “family” intervened, so they left Greece.
Consequently, in 1957 a highly educated man was now experiencing the required rites of passage of so many immigrants working three jobs. His father encouraged him to put his money into a business, which sadly failed. Dad was back working in a machine shop when one afternoon he saw a mechanic struggling to fix a compressor and assisted him; unbeknownst to him a foreman from another department saw what had happened. When the foreman approached dad they discovered they were both Greek. What followed was a lifelong friendship that was stronger than the bond of brothers.
Papou gave my dad all the money he had saved, and my dad together with Bill and his brother Pete, opened Scales Air Compressor in January of 1966. The three were a perfect combination. Bill, the preeminent professor/executive, had the command of the English language, Pete could sell ice to a snowman, and my dad could design, build and fix anything. The original company consisted of 15 men and was the definition of diversity. Of the 15, there was an African-American, a holocaust survivor, a physically handicapped engineer, eight immigrants and four Americans thrown in for good measure.
Business at Scales was thriving and my family moved to the suburbs of Long Island. All the Greek families scattered in the area came together at the local Greek Orthodox Church. My father’s faith was very deep. In fact, when my dad was young yiayia had plans to have her son become not just a bishop, but the archbishop. (Those plans were of course altered when he fell in love with mom). My father soon made a name for himself as a fair and honest man, a good man of God. Dad served his parish exceptionally well; he chaired many committees and served as Parish Council Treasurer and President.
Through his works at our church, dad soon became involved in the New York Archdiocese. Dad’s honesty, hard work and humble faith earned him much reverence among the people and clergy of the archdiocese. He and the now Metropolitan Methodios were like brothers, and would go to hockey games together – dad cheering for the Islanders and Metropolitan Methodios for the Rangers. Our home was a respite for many of the clergy who often stayed with us in our home.
Dad anonymously donated to many causes and sponsored a few aspiring priests, but his heart belonged to the orphans of St. Basil’s Academy. His philanthropy of time, talent and treasure went there. Dad was a Life Member of the St. Basil's Academy Board of Trustees and he served as their treasurer. When he donated the funds to rebuild the archbishop’s library and office he wanted to remain anonymous but His Eminence Iakovos insisted that the family name be placed on a placard. My father could not deny the archbishop, so the only place you will see his name, along with his family, is there and at the library of our home parish.
In 1975, dad was awarded the Medal of St. Andrew by Archbishop Iakovos. Dad was honored by the Patriarch Demetrios with the title of Archon Depoutatos, which was presented to him by Archbishop Iakovos in March, 1981. At the 27th Clergy Laity Congress in New York, 1984, he was at the Committee for the Divine Liturgy at Radio City. Throughout this time, he was also a member of the National Board of LOGOS, and chairman for the LOGOS chapter in Suffolk County for six years. LOGOS was the predecessor for the Leadership 100.
We were blessed by having a wonderful dad. Sadly, he was taken away from us too soon, too young. A few months before he passed in 1985, he suffered an industrial accident that kept him home, a blessing in disguise as he and mom spent nearly every day for three months together. He also was able to spend considerable time with his namesake grandson. Two weeks before he passed, I announced I was pregnant. The weekend before he passed, we spent it building a swing set for the grandchildren. The day before he died, he spent it at St. Basil’s with the children and the clergy; he and the archbishop took to a long private walk. The afternoon before he passed, I sat on his lap, kissed him and told him I loved him. As the evening passed, he spent it with mom, my sister and his best friends. Having touched all those that he loved he came home and passed away in the arms of my sister. He had navigated a full life, leaving behind his love and deeds, a legacy atlas for my sister and me. My Papou Taki said at his gravesite “We wish you another great journey,” and I have no doubt he is on his greatest journey yet.
