Day 184 - The Man From TTPI

Image of TTPI license plate bywoody1778a,
via Flickr.com

My most memorable passport applicant was Miguel,* a service member who was referred to us from the consulate in Frankfurt. Of the nine consulates in Germany, only Frankfurt processed immigrant visas. Miguel joined the Army when a recruiter from Guam visited his home on one of the islands in the Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands (TTPI). The TTPI was a UN protectorate that had been administered since 1947 by the United States. Miguel didn't need a passport or a green card when he entered the U.S. because military members travel on their orders and his orders then were for him to complete basic training and then be assigned to Germany where he had been for the past three years.

During that time, he married a German woman with two children. He had gone to the consulate in Frankfurt to apply for immigrant visas for his wife and children because he was being reassigned to the U.S. He knew that his wife and children needed passports and immigrant visas. He didn't realize he couldn't sponsor them because he himself was neither a citizen nor a permanent resident. That is why Frankfurt sent him to Stuttgart for his family to apply for non-immigrant visas. When they appeared in the visa section, their applications were denied because they expected to remain in the U.S. with Miguel.

Miguel was understandably upset because of the runaround he was getting. Fortunately, his timing was perfect. We had just received a telegram from Washington about the end of the U.S. administration of the Trust Territories of the Pacific Islands, making way for the islands that made up the TTPI to determine whether they wanted independence or to form a different type of association with the U.S. Until the islands made their decision, the residents of the islands had the option to apply for U.S. citizenship, provided they didn't have claim on the citizenship of another country. Determining that latter condition was something that could only be done by headquarters in Washington. My job was to gather the information from Miguel that Washington needed to do the research. I also had to advise that he probably wouldn't be able to bring his family with him right away and suggested he find a place they could stay.

Questions that I thought would be easy for him to answer turned out not to be so easy. But that didn't mean that I disbelieved him. I never felt he was trying to hide anything from me. The questions were just hard for him to answer.

Miguel explained that he joined the Army in order to get away from his home because he saw everyone around him showing no initiative, with many men choosing to drink all night and sleep all day. He knew he didn't want that type of life, so he left it all behind. As a result, he wasn't sure of what his birth date was, or at least he couldn't provide me with evidence in the form of a birth certificate or a baptismal certificate because he wasn't sure that his parents had them or would get around to getting a new copy. I told him he should call his family to ask. He said he had already tried and had been waiting for months. He didn't expect to get an answer. He gave me the information he could and I sent my report to Washington. I told him to call in a week. He told me he was being transferred to the States in a week. I told him to come back the day before he had to leave to find out if I had an answer by then.

The day he came back was the day after I received a response. The sticking point had been that one of his grandparents was Korean. Miguel's answers had to go to the Embassy in Seoul for them to do the research. I don't remember the details, but I remember the result: Miguel had no claim to Korean citizenship so if he wanted to claim American citizenship, he qualified. I sent Miguel out to get passport photos so I could put together his American passport. With that in his hand, he could apply for immigrant visas for his wife and children.

I will never forget the look on Miguel's face when I handed him his passport. He opened the passport, looked at his photo, and a smile crossed his face from ear to ear as he looked up at me and said "Thanks."

Then I smiled. For the rest of the day.

*a name, not necessarily the right one