Dear family and friends,
We gather today to remember and honor my beloved husband, Vaughan—a man of great warmth, kindness, and quiet strength. It is impossible to sum up a life so rich with love, laughter, and meaningful connections in just a few words, but I hope to share with you the profound impact he had on me, on our family, and on all who knew him.
Vaughan’s journey into our family began long before we even met. It was my brother, Haig, who first formed a bond with him through the ACYOA sports weekends. Representing their respective cities, they quickly became good friends. When Haig traveled to Watertown to prepare for the Toronto sports weekend, Vaughan welcomed him without hesitation, offering his home, his time, and his friendship—an early reflection of the generosity that defined him.
Their friendship deepened when Haig joined Vaughan, his brothers, and their friends in building the Cape house. Haig rolled up his sleeves and worked alongside them, never knowing that this very house—a home of love, laughter, and cherished memories—had origins so close to our own. It was built by Viceroy Homes, just behind the Tam O’Shanter Golf Course, next to our family home on Huntingwood Drive. It is as if fate was carefully weaving our lives together, even before we realized it.
And then, in a twist of destiny, I met Vaughan myself at a sports weekend in Chicago, on a boat cruise in the harbor. After a brief introduction, he smiled and said, “Oh, you’re Haig’s sister, Lily.” Haig had already spoken to him about me, saying, “You have to meet my sister Lily.” At the time, the age difference between us felt more noticeable, but as time passed, what became clear was not the years between us, but the love, respect, and companionship that would shape the rest of our lives.
After those sports weekends in the ’80s, Vaughan and I fell out of touch for 18 years. Life took us in different directions, but fate had one more surprise in store for us. We reconnected through a joint email about the Armenian Genocide. Neither of us were married, and as we spoke again, we felt that same connection we had all those years before. And so, our love story began anew.
Vaughan became part of my family, and he was embraced wholeheartedly. Though he had lost his own father, Kayzag, in the late ’80s, he remained deeply connected to his family. However, in the years that followed, his beloved mother began to show signs of cognitive decline due to Alzheimer’s. This profoundly impacted Vaughan and his brothers, as she was a force of nature in their lives—a woman they loved with unbounding devotion. Watching her fade was heartbreaking for them all, but Vaughan, in his quiet resilience, carried her memory forward with love and reverence, embodying the very strength she had instilled in him.
In the absence of his mother’s presence, my aunts, Alice and Aida—the matriarchs of our family—stepped in with open arms. They embraced Vaughan with the same maternal love they had always shown me, giving him a sense of belonging and warmth that he cherished. Their kindness, wisdom, and deep love became a guiding force in his life, just as it had been in mine. Vaughan, in return, adored them and felt the strength of their unwavering support.
Beyond them, Vaughan didn’t just join my family—he fully embraced it. He adored my immediate family, my nieces and nephews, my cousins, and my lifelong friends as if they were his own. He brought so much joy and laughter into our gatherings, creating wonderful and fun memories for us all. Whether it was holiday celebrations, summer adventures, or just an impromptu gathering, Vaughan had a way of making every moment special. He was at his happiest when surrounded by family, sharing stories, laughter, and, of course, good food. His presence brought light and energy to every occasion, making even the simplest moments unforgettable.
Despite the tough diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer’s in 2018, Vaughan stayed strong and confident that a cure was out there. Even in the face of uncertainty, he gave me the courage and hope to keep going. We left no stone unturned in exploring treatment options while also making the most of our time—traveling, creating memories, and surrounding ourselves with the love of family and friends.
We had a beautiful 21 years together. My only regret is that we were robbed of more time. But in those years, we built something that cannot be taken away—a love that was deep, resilient, and unwavering.
Vaughan was a man who built things—not just homes, highways and bridges, but friendships, love, and a life filled with meaning. He built a foundation of trust and partnership with me. He built lifelong bonds with those around him. And most importantly, he built a legacy of love that will live on in all of us.
Though our hearts are heavy with sorrow, I take comfort in knowing that Vaughan’s spirit remains in the places he loved, in the people he touched, and in the memories we carry forward. His kindness, his laughter, and his unwavering love will forever be a part of me, a part of us all.
Rest in peace, my love. You will always be with us.
*****
Vaughan H. Totovian, a lifelong resident of Watertown and a civil engineer behind many of the most essential public transportation projects in Massachusetts’ history, passed away on Feb. 9 at age 66. He had been suffering from Alzheimer’s disease for several years.
Totovian, the husband of Lily (Tossounian), was a graduate of Watertown High School and Northeastern University, where he completed a degree in civil engineering in 1981. Over the next quarter century, Totovian worked on and completed numerous projects that re-made highway and public transportation history in Greater Boston.
His projects included the Big Dig, which submerged the overhead main travel route through Boston into a tunnel; the entrance to the Ted Williams Tunnel, which provided a second artery to Logan Airport by extending the Massachusetts Turnpike to East Boston and points north; the Boston Engine terminal in Somerville; commuter rail stations between Canton and Fall River; and the easing of monumental Cape Cod traffic jams from the rotary at Sagamore Bridge.
While civil engineering is a collaborative effort, largely the result of consensus among numerous professionals, Totovian stood out as an ultimate authority because of his technical expertise and a historic memory, said several co-workers.
“He was simply a genius in reading plans. He saw problems before anyone else did—and solutions, as well,” said Richard Ferrante, who worked beside Totovian at L.W. Lochner between 1993 and 2001. “He was our miracle worker.”
Michel Issa, another colleague on the Big Dig project, added: “In many meetings, Vaughan’s voice was the most insistent that we had a responsibility for the public and ourselves to make sure we’d done everything the right way.”
One such breakthrough he authored solved the problem of how to maintain southbound traffic emerging from the Dewey Square tunnel while rebuilding a mile-long stretch of the Expressway. Totovian’s fix was to reroute the traffic over a short bridge and then onto Harrison Avenue and a road that paralleled the Expressway.
Such extensive projects present a continued sequence of complications, and Totovian’s co-workers remember his ability to roll with the most serious of them. Vincent Nguyen recalled the time Totovian realized that a planned cement pillar upholding a portion of the Expressway would have been erected in the driveway of a gas station, 100 feet away from its intended location.
“Vaughan saw it before any of us did,” Nguyen said. “But that’s the way he worked. He had the greatest confidence in his skills.”
Yet it was his final project, modernizing the rotary at Sagamore Bridge, that gave Totovian the most satisfaction. With his two brothers, Totovian bought a summer home in Falmouth and was experiencing first-hand the mind-numbing ordeal of getting on and off the Cape on summer weekends.
In 2001, he was hired as project lead engineer by a state joint venture to come up with the fix, and by 2005, the work was completed. The rotary that had stalled traffic for generations was discarded, and two highways were able to pass one another on their own roads.
“The design Vaughan’s team worked out for it was perfect,” said Ferrante, Totovian’s co-worker and friend.
Vaughan exhibited such know-how from his youngest years. His wife Lily showed me a letter he wrote in 1972 at age 14 to then Massachusetts Governor Francis Sargent after noticing from volunteering at Perkins School for the Blind in Watertown that many of the students were fearful of crossing busy intersections along Arsenal Street or in Watertown Square.
As he told Sargent in his letter, Totovian had devised a fix: set up devices at the busiest intersections that emitted loud buzzes as well as metal tracks that would accommodate the tip of a blind person’s cane and allow them to cross safely.
That ability to use his technical skills to overcome everyday adversities was common for Totovian. When technology first arrived with home products like Atari, Totovian disassembled the equipment and told the company that its software would never develop beyond kids’ games unless they figured out how to show images and type on the screen. The Atari executive offered him a job over the phone.
While he let that opportunity go by, Totovian was intrigued by the idea of developing a handheld device that used electricity to perform simple household chores while the occupant was out of the house. Think of Alexa before the Internet. In fact, Totovian developed a device to turn his television on and off at his Watertown home, open and close the shades, and control the thermostat, all through home automation technologies.
Lily, who began dating Vaughan in 2004, said she started calling him “boy genius” soon after their marriage in 2007 because of his numerous inventive ideas when remodeling their home. He would also bring home highway blueprints from work to show her the progress that he and his team of engineers were making on a project.
Vaughan’s technical skills likely came from his father, Kayzag Totovian. Raised in Marseille, Kayzag was a builder of racing bikes as a youth. He joined the French Resistance at the outset of World War II, and upon moving to the United States in 1940, joined the U.S. Army Intelligence Service.
From his mother, Isabelle (Gureghian) Totovian, the first woman to become trustee of St. James Armenian Church, he would have inherited his confident manner and a passion for knowing right from wrong.
And from his brothers, James Totovian, who died in 2018, and Mark Totovian, Vaughan gained an enthusiastic love of sports, whether competing with friends or following Boston’s professional sports teams.
In addition to the friends he made in his profession, Totovian shared his life with a rich circle of friends, much built around his association with St. James Armenian Church and its ties to the Armenian Church Youth Organization of America. It was also through the youth organization that he first became acquainted with Lily Tossounian, who was living with her family in Toronto, and again as adults at a sports weekend.
In his eulogy for Totovian at St. James Church, Der. Shnork Souin, retired pastor at St. Sahag and St. Mesrob Armenian Church, reflected on the large number of friends that he maintained during his lifetime and who came to his service.
“Such rich friendships are part of the miracle of the Armenian diaspora here in the new world,” said Der Shnork, a lifelong family friend of Lily’s. “Faith and fellowship brighten our days and ease the pain from such a loss.”
Stephen Kurkjian, a 40-year veteran reporter for The Boston Globe, was Vaughan Totovian’s first cousin.
*****
My Uncle was a man of reason. Which may seem obvious because he was an engineer by trade, but much of his life was governed by the pursuit of reason. If he noticed that society had adopted an irrational way of doing something, if there was a more logical and effective means to an end, he made it his point to let everyone know. You might call him a great advocate of reason. Besides rational thought, his next favourite thing was a fun fact, of which he had many. He would tell you them with such gumption they were impossible to refute...for example, did you know that Boston has the cleanest tap water in the world? I didn’t know that, but I will believe it forever because Uncle Vaughan was certain of it.
The one and only area of his life where he allowed emotion to prevail was with my Aunt Lily. He loved my Aunt so very much and, by relation, he loved all of us. Their marriage has been a great example to me of a true partnership, of unconditional love and support, and I’m so grateful to have been a witness to it. My Uncle’s boisterous energy, his compassion and generosity, and his plentiful facts of the world will be greatly missed.
Afton Chadwick
Burlington, Ontario, Canada
*****
Uncle Vaughan
Today feels like a day that arrived far too soon. We gather to celebrate the remarkable life of my uncle, Vaughan Totovian. While Uncle Vaughan may not have been related to the Tossounians by blood, he was undeniably family in every sense that truly matters—through love and connection.
I remember the few times I had the privilege of meeting him before my parents shared the delightful news that he had proposed to my wonderful Aunt Lily. This moment was a joyful turning point in our lives; it not only meant welcoming a new uncle but also embarking on my very first journey to a new city. Of course, it also meant my aunt would be moving away, but that was alright. No distance could ever keep her from us. She always made it a point to be there, no matter the miles between us.
When the wedding day finally arrived, I had never seen my aunt so radiant with happiness. One of my most cherished memories from that day is of me, dressed in one of my dad's old suits, capturing joyful moments in wedding photos alongside the newlyweds. As the years passed, Aunt Lily and Uncle Vaughan always opened their home to us, inviting us for family trips to both Boston and Cape Cod, moments that brought me immense joy and created lasting memories.
As I grew older, it became increasingly challenging to carve out time from my career to connect with family. However, when the opportunity finally arose, my brother and I relished the moments spent with Aunt Lily and Uncle Vaughan. We attended our very first Jays game at Fenway Park, explored the storied halls of Harvard, and wandered through the beautiful city of Boston—the birthplace and final resting place of one of the most incredible men I had the privilege to know and love.
One of my most treasured memories of Uncle Vaughan was witnessing him dressed up for my wedding day. The way our lives intertwined and came full circle is something I will forever cherish and be grateful for.
If there’s one lesson Uncle Vaughan imparted during the time I shared with him, it is this: to be truly loved and appreciated by those around you, one must possess a kind soul, an uplifting smile and laughter, a quick wit, a wealth of knowledge, and an unwavering love for their partner. So, let us raise our glasses to Uncle Vaughan, hoping he finds joy in sharing his vast array of wisdom with his brother and all those who were taken from us too soon. And to anyone else who will lend him an ear. To Uncle Vaughan!
Tyler Tossounian
Bradford, Ontario, Canada
*****
For Vaughan
Everyone loved Vaughan, it’s easy to see,
A heart full of kindness, as deep as the sea.
Strong yet so gentle, both brilliant and wise,
With warmth in his soul and light in his eyes.
He loved every creature, the wild and tame,
And all who he met would speak of his name.
A traveler at heart, he longed to explore,
Yet home was the place he cherished far more.
Through mountains of snow, on skis he would glide,
Cheering his teams with unshaken pride.
The Red Sox, the Bruins, the Celtics—his own,
Through victory, loss, and the seasons unknown.
His hands shaped the world in steel and stone,
From tunnels below to a house of his own.
A builder, a dreamer, a leader so bright,
Turning visions to wonders with skill and foresight.
A brother, a cousin, a friend ever true,
A man of his word, with a heart that once knew
The weight of all burdens, yet still he would stand,
Always the first to extend a strong hand.
He loved his Corvette, so vivid, so red,
A flash on the road where his spirit still sped.
Fearless and bold, with the wind in his hair,
Living each moment with passion and flair.
Now time moves on, though I stand still,
Missing his laughter, his strength, and his will.
Yet love does not fade, nor vanish with years,
It lingers in memories, in smiles, in tears.
Ours was a love too vast to confine,
As deep as the ocean, as endless as time.
No force could break it, no distance undo,
For love such as ours is eternal and true.
