Neighborhood Watch

Miriam Watson doesn't want much. The 50-year-old lumber company clerk wants to be able to read bedtime stories to her grandchildren, pick up groceries when she needs them and attend church on Sundays. Until last November, none of these things was a problem. What's stopping her from doing them right now isn't failing health or injury or long work hours. It's the Department of Homeland Security.

Watson is a victim of geography. She lives along the U.S.-Canada border in a part of Maine that is so rural it doesn't even have a name beyond Township 6, Range 19. Her grandchildren, her church and her grocery store are a short drive away, in or near the small village of St. Aurelie, Quebec.

Although she's lived in the Maine North Woods for more than 20 years, five years ago Watson and her husband decided to move to T6 R19 to be closer to their grandchildren.

"Before, I was a cook in a lumber camp about 20 miles into the woods. A [job] opening became available here and it was ideal. Now we're much closer and it's all tarred road," she said in a phone interview from her home in late May. "Everything was great until November."

November is when Homeland Se-curity's department of Customs and Border Protection installed a new lock on the gate that crosses the logging road Watson takes to get to everything she needs. Watson had a key to the old gate, which she used to open herself whenever a Customs agent wasn't present to let her cross.

Under a previous program, called the Form 1 and Port Pass program, which Homeland Security abolished last May, rural border residents could apply for and receive authorization to cross the border at will. Now, Watson and other residents can cross only during Customs' hours of operation, which have varied since the new lock was put in place, but essentially have kept the Watsons home on weekends and after 8 o'clock on weeknights.

"The worst part for us [has been] the curfew," she says. "It took away all normality of life. You run out of milk, that's tough. You're stuck until Monday morning when Customs opens." To see their grandchildren on weekends or attend church, the Watsons had to drive 187 miles one way through the woods to cross the border at the nearest staffed Customs gate. "We missed birthdays and first communions; we couldn't read the kids bedtime stories because we would have to be home before they would be in bed, which was ridiculous to be 50 years old and have a curfew," Watson says.

That soon will change. By the end of June, under pressure from Sen. Susan Collins, R-Maine, Customs will launch a pilot program at two sites in Maine, followed by a third in Montana, which will allow residents to apply for special identification cards that they can then use to cross the border 24 hours a day. The program will vet residents the same way it vets applicants to the Free and Secure Trade program, which is used to expedite the shipment of goods across the border. At the selected border crossings, residents will be able to swipe their ID cards, sending a digital picture to staff at the nearest Customs Area Security Center.

Watson is elated that her crossing is one of the pilot sites.

"We were told that by the end of June we will be able to cross on foot, which means we will have to park a car on both sides of the border," says Watson. "It's still not a perfect program, and at this point our families still cannot come except during Customs' hours. But at least we will be able to go out for special events and come back home."