This is a brief chronicle of a remarkable island that, as a result of the energy, talent, and cleverness of its people, ascended to marvelous levels of prosperity. It is a testimonial to the proud Chians. They are a people committed to their families, to their island, and to their culture. Fight though they may, the ending is inevitable. They will gradually surrender to that which we call progress. The sameness shall prevail in Chios, as it shall everywhere. Hopefully, this account will survive to tell future generations, not only what happened in Chios, but what happened. Chios, it's been called the fragrant isle, because of its citrus groves, its masticha, and its jasmine. Some Chians claim they can discern the bouquet of their beloved Chios from the shores of Anatolia in the east, and the port of Piraeus in the west. It's been called the tortured island, because of its tragic massacres, and its numerous natural disasters. It's been called the joyous isle because of its prosperity, because of the legendary beauty of its women, because