Valley priest recounts struggles of Lebanese in their homeland
YOUNGSTOWN — Though Tony Massad was only an infant when he left Sidon, Lebanon, behind, he still vividly recalls his father Aziz telling his experience in Lebanon’s 15-year Civil War.
“When we think of war, I think sometimes we think of it like, everybody’s at war in some certain area. But it was very much like guerrilla warfare. So he would say, ‘so this part of Beirut, they’re fighting, you don’t go there.’ But on this side of Beirut, he worked at a restaurant and was a sous chef,” Massad said. “Then he goes, ‘we’re serving dinner, and we’re having the bars open.’ It was a very odd way to live, you know?”
Massad, who was assigned priest of St. Maron Church in Youngstown four years ago, shared an experience that many Lebanese individuals in Mahoning County may find relatable.
“You’re traveling from one part of the city to the other and in between is the war zone, so you kind of navigate through it and try not to get hit by a sniper. And you find out kids had to do this to get to school — like this was a normal thing for some,” Massad said. “Kids every day, they would go through the first level of a bombed-out building, through a couple of buildings and duck through to a safe passage so they could go to school and do the same thing on the way back home.”
Between 1948 and 1990, more than 60,000 Lebanese entered the U.S, a number that was predominantly Christian but has shifted to mostly Muslim in the current wave. Nearly 600,000 Arab-Americans identify as Lebanese, according to the Arab-American Institute’s data.
Massad explained that a majority of Lebanese immigrants who ended up in this area had a relative who lived here for decades and offered a chance to come, promising jobs or opening a door for them through the immigration process. It was also a way many found spouses, too.
“Somebody from here is looking for a good wife or a good husband, so they think, ‘I’m going to go back, my mom or dad or somebody in the family knows someone,’ Massad said. ”I got a second, third cousin or whoever you know, there’s somebody I’m familiar with from my neck of the woods in Lebanon.’ (That person has) the same value and belief system and whatever else their parents vowed.”
Lebanese immigration used to center around areas like Michigan and Ohio, but has changed in recent times, with many seeking areas closer to Lebanon’s climate. At the same time, however, ones with professional backgrounds still come because they’re enticed by offers, Massad said.
“What we have going on here, especially in a place like the Cleveland Clinic and University Hospitals and that system. Many medical doctors there. It’s like 1 in 10 people are doctors in Lebanon, so, very common. Or they go to medical school or have advanced engineering degrees. You know in the Midwest, you know, let’s say Cleveland, with a clinic, there’s a ton of doctors there that are of Lebanese descent. They’re encouraging them, enticing, saying, ‘Hey, we got a package here that would work for you’,” Massad said.
Massad described Lebanese individuals who emigrated from 1975 to 1990 as “refugees of war.”
“Picking up and leaving everything even though they didn’t want to, they felt they had no choice. And that’s, you know, my father felt that way. I would say, you know, our people here who came during the civil war, they love Lebanon,” Massad said. “They wanted to stay there, but they saw no future for themselves, or they wanted to have a family. And so reluctantly, they left because of the chaos.”
Massad said the war made his dad upset toward the country as he felt forced out of a place he loved, but he said he loves the U.S. because it gave him everything he lost in an instant. As time passed, his views changed, he added.
“He’s not angry or hates it or anything, but he misses it. He longs for Lebanon, especially the Lebanon that he had,” Massad said.
Massad still has family in the country today, but he said they’re “barely hanging on.” He has relatives who have lived in a Beirut apartment for the past 30 years, but they haven’t been thrown out because the building owner understands they’re all in the same boat.
“They’re not growing in the way they were before this collapse of the economy. The opportunities that were open for them and existed before the collapse and now this instability, we’ll see what happens, if there’s going to be any war with Israel and Hezbollah,” Massad said.


