Heritage Story

My Great Grand Father


This is the story of a relatively close family member to me. Even though I have never met him, I feel like I just read a book about him. Early this week I asked my parents if they knew of any family members that have a significant place in the family, or those that others in my family speak of frequently. They had nothing. Luckily, later this week my grandfather called me and when I asked him the same question, he gave me quite a tale. He told me of his father, my great grand father, someone who I knew almost nothing about. His name was Grigory Dikhanov.
Grigory was born in 1893 in the heart of Russia. He lived a long life of 82 years. His life was during the time of the last czar of Russia, Czar Nikolai II. In 1917, the Russian revolution began. The Bolshevik Party came to power and destroyed the government. They attacked the czar and the palace, destroyed everything and everyone in their way, made reforms and started their own ways of ruling the country.
Before the revolution, my great grand father lived in Russia. Times were hard and money was desperately needed. Before the revolution began, he went to live in the Republic of Georgia. He was sixteen years old when he left his home. The feeling of grief and distress must have overpowered him. Imagine having to leave your home in search of employment and money in a country foreign to you. In Georgia he found a job as a gardener for a wealthy Georgian count. Now, my great granddad was a nice looking fellow. He was tall, slender, and strong. His height was almost 2 meters, somewhat of a giant I guess. Such a handsome man was sure to have lots of luck with the ladies. He had a very artistic phenotype, and the count recognized some talent in him. Grigory was skilled at singing and playing the fortepiano, and often entertained or accompanied the count and his friends at evening parties. In the day time, he didn’t let this friendship distract him from his gardening duties. After a while, being a gardener became not only a job, it became a passion. He loved working with plants.
During the revolution, there was a large sense of civil unrest. People started killing their employers and ruining their homes. They rebelled against their former bosses. Despite being very artistic, Grigory didn’t let go of his gardening skills and when Soviet life began, schools were established and he joined the Institute of Red Directors (this is the word for word definition from the Russian). Red was the color of the Bolsheviks. It symbolized fire and blood, for much blood was shed during the revolution. Grigory completed school and got into the area of agriculture and pursued his passion.
About 5 years after revolution – the agriculture business began to flourish because the Bolsheviks gave people land. These landowners began to grow an unprecedented amount of crop. They had no limits, they had nobody to please, and they worked for themselves, so the efforts were extraordinary. Prices were low on crops and people became rich. Everybody started going to restaurants and enjoying the freedom and excess of money. Grigory’s father was writing his son to tell him to return to his native land because there was so much money to spare! He was very rich at this time, but somehow all of this money disappeared. Shortly thereafter, Grigory’s father died and nobody knows why. Maybe it was from the grief of his son not coming home, or from all of the money that he spent on alcohol and unhealthy delights.
Later on, Grigory became the director of the agricultural department in his region. He realized that instead of spreading farming and agriculture apart, they should have collective farming. He propagated these ideas and eventually brought the business together. This resulted is a great efficiency of the farmers and agriculturalists.
My great granddad was a person who made things happen. He loved to give life and make it better for others. in his lifetime, he gave thousands of lives by planting trees. Wherever he would go, he would plant a tree. Eventually, he was able to own a plantation of grape plants. His efforts in improving agriculture allowed him to build his own wine factory. In a suburb of the city Rostov, there is a town in which there is an alley named after him. It’s called Alleya Dikhanova, or the Alley of Dikhanov. In this alley are planted thousands of poplar trees in his name. He must have felt a great sense of accomplishment every time he came back to this alley. He planted those trees when they were small saplings and over the years came back to see their progress. Now these trees stand tall and massive. There are a great sight to look at and they remind us that just one person can impact the way we live. These trees not only give us a pretty view, they give us a source of life.
This tale is appealing to me, though it seems almost too perfect. How could I have been oblivious to the history of my very recent ancestors? Grigory seems like he was a very well rounded individual who was very dedicated to what he did and loved. I feel like I know him, even though this is the first time I’ve heard of him. His story is very fascinating to me and I am determined to find out more.