
Carlson: Iowans welcome her, but U.S. officials don't
ByvarUsername = "jcarlson@dmreg.com";document.write("JOHN CARLSON"); JOHN CARLSON
REGISTER COLUMNIST
August 7, 2005
Winterset, Ia. - The woman from London loved America from the day she stepped off the plane in Des Moines and embraced the man she would marry.
David Jamison showed his new friend his hometown of Winterset, the covered bridges and as much of Iowa as they could squeeze into a quick visit. It was a friendship that began with e-mails across an ocean, turned into a romance during that two weeks in 2003, and led to marriage six months later.
It was one of those storybook things that actually seemed headed for a happy ending.
Maureen got a work permit from the federal government and found a job as a waitress in Winterset.
The couple traveled. Maureen taught David and his friends cribbage and they played a few times a week at the Northside Cafe. Iowa would be home forever, she told her family back in England.
"It's my country now," she said.
So she thought.
On Tuesday, the 45-year-old woman will be back at the Des Moines airport to board a plane for her trip home to England. Among her few remaining possessions will be a pile of documents - each one providing official notice from the United States government informing her she is not welcome here.
It's because she made three mistakes.
She was honest.
She tried to do the right thing.
She did her best to follow immigration rules set down by the U.S. Department of Homeland Security.
Things began well enough the first few months. Maureen went to the immigration office in Des Moines, wrote a check for $560 and filled out forms that would begin her quest to gain permanent residency and eventually citizenship. A few weeks later, she had a one-year federal work permit.
"I got a job as a waitress," she said. "I liked it."
The problem was, David had a serious heart condition and was unable to work. Federal authorities said Maureen would need to earn an annual income of at least $16,000 to keep her status. Either that or find a co-sponsor willing to turn over personal financial records and guarantee Maureen would have a place to live and be cared for. One more thing: She had to come up with divorce records from an earlier marriage back in England.
"We couldn't locate them," she said. "My (lawyer) had moved and had all the records. But I was working on it."
Things turned worse when David had a heart attack in May 2004. Then, in February 2005, Maureen discovered she had breast cancer.
Her surgery was on March 23. David had heart surgery five days later and died that night at the age of 48.
"I can't explain how awful it all was," she said. "I phoned the immigration office in Omaha. I thought they should know David had died."
That's when, according to Maureen, she was told, "Since your husband is dead, there's no reason for you to stay in this country."
Maureen contacted Sens. Charles Grassley and Tom Harkin and Rep. Tom Latham. She even wrote to President Bush.
Homeland Security's response? Her employment permit had been revoked.
She had no money for a lawyer. Grassley, Harkin and Latham all checked into the case and said there was nothing they could do. She needed those divorce papers from England and a sponsor. Harkin's office promised to help arrange a hearing in Immigration Court and one was scheduled - for May 4, 2006.
"I'd hang on, but I don't have a work permit," she said. "I'm not a citizen, so I can't get a driver's license. None of my friends are in a financial position to be a co-sponsor. I'm not allowed to get a job to support myself, so I can't get health insurance. And the hearing is 10 months away."
Maureen could, of course, get a job "off the books" and not tell anybody. Then she'd have money to live until the hearing.
"I won't do that," she said. "I'm not going to break the law."
She decided to give up on July 4, the anniversary of a trip she and David took a year ago to a community celebration and tractor pull. It had been a great day, she remembered.
"I sat in my house and cried, thinking about things," she said. "I decided to give up."
She had a yard sale and sold nearly everything she owned. Furniture, dishes, her dead husband's fishing gear; it all went.
She even put her wedding dress up for sale and made plans to raffle off her mother's mink coat. That's when she was reminded that while this country's government can be horribly callous, its people are truly caring.
"A man from West Des Moines looked at my things and asked me how much I hoped to raise raffling off my mother's coat," she said. "I said maybe $1,000. He told me to put that mink coat and my wedding dress in a box and ship them back to England. Then he wrote me a check for $1,000."
Another Iowan who had heard about Maureen's problems handed her an envelope filled with cash. Somebody else gave her a check for $25.
"She said that $25 normally would have gone to her church. She gave it to me instead. How can you be angry at a country with people like that?"
On Wednesday, Maureen moved out of her house. Maybe hardest of all, she gave away "Pebbles," the calico cat David had given her.
She'll get in a couple more cribbage games with her friends, and Tuesday afternoon, she'll be on the plane. She's lined up a full-time job there and expects to begin treatment for her cancer soon after arriving back in England.
What will she tell people there about America?
"I'll say it's a lovely place and that the people are wonderful. Just don't ever try to live there."
Her cribbage partners, indeed most people in Winterset, are stunned by what's happened to their friend.
"It's a bad, bad deal," said Larry Allen, an electrician and one of Maureen's cribbage-playing partners. "It stinks because I look at all these people sneaking across the border and getting every break from the government. Medical care, education, even housing. They stay and stay. Then Maureen here does everything she's supposed to do and look what happens. There's something real wrong here."
Nobody is accusing the federal government of wrongdoing. Every rule is no doubt being followed. Without exception. Or compassion. Just some form letters and check marks next to rejection boxes on a couple of official forms.
"I still love this country," she said. "I wanted this to be my home forever. I'm definitely going to come back someday and visit all my friends."
So she's not giving up on America.
She's going back to England because America has no room for a woman who follows the rules.