Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, August 3, 1995 TAG: 9508030045
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MARY BISHOP STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
The persuasive narratives of National Public Radio and the horrors of war have brought teen-agers Vedrana Vasilj, Zehra Dzanic and Mirha Durakovic to Roanoke.
Internist Charles Gilliland heard an NPR story last fall about a free-lance photojournalist's mission to bring children to this country from Bosnia-Herzegovina.
For a few days, Gilliland pondered the grave radio report of what it's like to grow up in a war. Most of his three children and three stepchildren were grown or off to college. There certainly was room for another kid at his and his wife Cheryl's spacious Roanoke County house.
He made a call to Exeter, N.H., to the home of photographer Robert Azzi.
Eight months of waiting and lots of fat phone bills later, three girls from the war touched down Monday night at Roanoke Regional Airport. They looked up from the commuter plane's stairs to see a throng of frantically waving, balloon-bearing people from Roanoke's First Presbyterian Church beaming at them from the airport windows.
Vedrana, 17, remembers thinking, with considerable relief, "They love us."
By Wednesday afternoon, the three girls were beginning to get settled into a life without deaths and shellings and middle-of-the-night flights from beds to shelters.
They already had mailed letters back home and seen the Mill Mountain Star, the City Market and their new school, Cave Spring High.
Zehra, also 17, will be living with the Gillilands. Vedrana has a home with Annette and Hunt Ozmer. Mirha, 16, will move in with Ann and Bob Rutherford as soon as they return from a family beach trip.
The Rutherfords waited all summer for Mirha to arrive. Then, eager to have a vacation with their own children before school starts, they left the day before she finally got here. Mirha's staying with the Gillilands until next week.
The girls had been due here in January. Red tape kept them in Bosnia all winter and spring.
Coincidentally, all the host families attend First Presbyterian, which has a tradition of displaying a red rosebud atop the piano whenever a baby is born into the congregation. Sunday, there were three pink roses there for the three teen-age girls on their way here.
Sadly, two other girls bound for Roanoke Valley families were unable to get out of Sarajevo, and other teens may be sent in their place.
Azzi, the photographer, so far has helped bring 23 young people to the United States. He said Wednesday from his New Hampshire home that the war's dangers have kept him out of Bosnia, so instead he decided to help find safe American havens for as many kids as he can.
Roanoke's teens are here on three-year educational visas. Shellings and the massacre of 70 young people last spring in Tuzla - Vedrana and Zehra's hometown - have severely limited their schooling. They and Mirha, from Srebrenica, were selected for emigration by their schools.
Their journey from home with other kids bound for U.S. destinations took more than two weeks. First, there was a 30-hour bus ride over rocky mountain roads to Zagreb, Croatia. They each brought a suitcase and food carefully packed by their families.
After 14 days of interviews in Zagreb, they flew to Zurich, Switzerland, then to Boston, where they got a joyous reception from Azzi. They caught a flight to Cincinnati and from there came to Roanoke.
Mirha wept Wednesday as she shared photographs of the family and boyfriend she had left behind in Srebrenica.
Vedrana's father, who was with the Ministry of Internal Affairs in Sarajevo, was killed in 1992 en route to work. Her mother, brother and sister remain in Tuzla. "My brains are here," said Vedrana, who wants to be a doctor. But, she added, "My heart is in Tuzla."
So far, only Zehra has been able to reach her mother by phone. "I said to her, I call her from Roanoke, Virginia. She said, 'Roanoke!'''
It was a phone conversation Zehra won't forget.
"She was very proud, but very sad. I could feel it," Zehra said, touching her ear.
Memo: ***CORRECTION***