Dr. Ray Tabibiazar stands at Ross’s Landing watching a riverboat glide along the Tennessee River. When its horn cuts through the air, people nearby lift their hands to wave in response. He watches the simple gesture – strangers greeting strangers – and, in an instant, his mind travels 7,000 miles away and 40 years into the past.
“I see them waving, and I’m immediately back in Iran, watching people punch the sky with their fists as the revolution exploded around us,” he says.
This is how memory works for Tabibiazar: one foot here, one foot there. One moment he’s firmly in the present; the next, he’s pulled into the past. But he didn’t write his debut memoir, “The Secrets of Ordinary Heroes,” to exorcise the demons of his past. Instead, the book is a thank-you to his parents and a gift to his children – a way to preserve his family’s story before the details were lost.
A life uprooted
Tabibiazar was 13 when the Islamic Revolution transformed his country overnight. Born a Jew in Iran, he and his family were soon marked for death.
“My dad was placed on an execution list,” he recalls. “He had complained when the regime started sending 12-year-old kids to run across minefields during the Iran-Iraq war. They would hand them a key and say, ‘If you die, this is the key to heaven.’ And my dad said, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ That was enough to make us targets.”
The family fled on foot over the Zagros Mountains into Turkey – a journey filled with the constant threat of capture. From there, they reached Israel, hoping for safety, only to find themselves amid another conflict – the first intifada. Eventually, they made their way to the United States.
“I went from wondering if I’d ever see my father again,” he says, “to wondering which team won the NBA championship. It was surreal.”
In telling his family’s story, Tabibiazar wanted to highlight not only the danger and upheaval but also the silent acts of courage that carried them forward.
“Ordinary heroes don’t wear capes or soar through the sky,” he says. “Their reason for doing what they did – sacrificing, persevering – that’s their superpower. My parents did what they did for no other reason than to help us succeed.”
The book, framed as a conversation with his son Liam, opens in Chattanooga before plunging back into Iran, Israel and the road to America. The structure was inspired by “The Princess Bride” – in which an older man reads a story to his grandson – but with one crucial difference:
“That story is fiction, but mine is true,” he explains. “Liam was asking questions about his grandpa, who was sick and hallucinating about the Nazis. I realized I had to explain everything to him – the revolution, the escapes. Writing the book became my way of having that conversation.”
The title, “The Secrets of Ordinary Heroes,” refers to the lessons his parents passed down – lessons he didn’t fully understand until he became a father himself. One moment stands out vividly: when he was accepted to Harvard Medical School.
“I thought my dad would be proud,” he says. “But all he said was, ‘Are you happy?’ At the time, I didn’t get it. I thought he didn’t care. But now, as a father, I realize he cared deeply. He didn’t care about the school. He cared about me.”
A book for his children
The memoir, Tabibiazar says, was written for two audiences: his parents and his children.
“My parents don’t speak English well, and I wanted my kids to know their story – where they came from, what their grandparents endured. I also wanted my parents to fill in the gaps in my memory.”
Those gaps turned out to be profound. As Tabibiazar dug deeper into his family’s past, he uncovered stories that were far more painful than he’d expected – fragments of trauma carried quietly across decades.
That history came rushing back in an unexpected way when his father fell ill in 2019 and began hallucinating after cancer metastasized to his brain.
“I didn’t understand why he was worried about Nazis until I went back into history and discovered that the Nazis had tried to influence Iran during World War II. In northern Iran, where my dad lived, there was a pogrom against Jews when he was 6 years old. He had to flee his house. Those memories came back when he was sick.”
Writing about these revelations was emotional but cathartic.
“The book let me talk to my kids,” he says. “I could explain things that are difficult to say out loud. If I had just sat Liam down and started talking, he would have said, ‘This is so cringe.’ But in the book, he accepted it.”
The weight of memory
For Tabibiazar, memory isn’t linear. It’s layered, triggered by sights, smells, sounds – a sensory flashback that pulls the past into the present.
“Memories are formed when there’s emotional valence,” he explains. “The more emotion you have, the deeper the groove is. For me, a lot of childhood memories were intense, and those grooves are deep.”
The opening scene on Ross’s Landing captures this experience perfectly: a simple wave of the hand bridging two worlds – one tranquil, one turbulent.
“It’s not a literary device,” he insists. “It’s how I experience life.”
Though much of the book deals with war, displacement and loss, Tabibiazar says the process of writing it was joyful.
“It was fantastic,” he says. “I used the book to connect with my kids.”
The memoir doesn’t shy away from rawness. He writes candidly about his parents’ fights, the ache of grief and the wounds families carry together.
“Life isn’t flowery,” he says. “I wanted to capture the real lessons we learned about, suicide, money, fame, sacrifice, death, peace and conflict. These are common things we all deal with, no matter where we come from.”
While the book explores his Iranian-Jewish identity, Tabibiazar emphasizes that it’s ultimately a universal story.
“Yes, there’s the Jewish background, the Persian background, the Israeli background,” he says. “But that’s just the backdrop. At its core, this is a human story – about parents and children, grandparents and grandchildren, and how families endure and adapt.”
For immigrant readers, especially, his reflections resonate deeply.
“It’s about what we carry with us,” he says. “How being bullied shapes you, how grief changes you, how losing someone to suicide stays with you. All of those things are in the book.”
Culture and conflict
Given today’s geopolitical tensions, Tabibiazar says his family’s story offers context many Americans lack.
“In Western culture – in a Judeo-Christian framework – life comes first. There’s even a saying in Judaism: ‘You save one soul, you save the world.’ You can denounce God to save your life, and God forgives you. Life, then ideology. But in Shia Muslim culture, ideology comes first. Life comes second.”
This difference, he argues, explains much of the Middle East’s enduring instability – and why some Western observers misunderstand it.
“During the Iran-Iraq war, they sent kids across minefields because ideology mattered more than their lives. That mindset still exists. If you don’t understand that, you won’t understand Hamas. My book isn’t political, but it touches on those cultural differences.”
A new life in Chattanooga
Today, Tabibiazar’s life looks very different from the turmoil of his youth. He lives in Chattanooga with his wife and three children, where they enjoy hiking, diving, traveling and exploring the arts.
“Life is very easy now,” he says. “I used to wonder if my family would survive the night. Now I wonder if I can make Liam’s basketball game or where I can take him swimming. It’s a different world. We’re in a good place.”
When he’s not spending time with his family, Tabibiazar leads Genesis BioCapital, an investment firm that creates and supports biotechnology companies. The work bridges medicine, science and finance – three languages he and his team speak fluently.
“We create companies around significant unmet clinical needs,” he explains. “We’re physicians, so we can identify the problems. We’re also scientists, so we can develop solutions. And we’re finance people, so we can build companies to make those solutions real.”
Genesis BioCapital is currently developing therapies across multiple fields, including cancer, atrial fibrillation, depression, PTSD, preeclampsia and arthritis.
“We’re building and investing in seven companies,” he says. “We’re also working on drug manufacturing in the U.S.”
For Tabibiazar, the work isn’t just financially motivated.
“We believe in doing well by doing good,” he says. “That’s our mantra.”
Happiness redefined
When asked if he’s happy – echoing the same question his father once posed – Tabibiazar pauses before answering.
“You’re happy when you’re content with what you have,” he says. “I am more than content. That doesn’t mean I don’t have ambitions or want to improve. But I’m living in the moment. Right now, with my family, my work and my community, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”
Ultimately, “The Secrets of Ordinary Heroes” is about gratitude – to his parents, the ordinary people who shaped his life. And it’s for his children.
“It’s so they know who their grandparents were and what they went through. But it’s also for anyone who wonders how families survive and adapt. Ordinary heroes don’t ask to be remembered – but they should be.”