‘A Face Is a Terrible Thing to Waste’, Especially when it’s Yours!

I spent much of my adult life in what was “Terminal E” of Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson airport. “Terminal E” was Atlanta’s “International” terminal and because of my extended time there I became very familiar with arrivals procedures when returning home from all-points outside of the U.S.

“Blue-shirted” Immigration officers, like the gentleman on the left, would first examine our passports and make sure we could reenter the U.S. Next we would present “White-shirted” Customs officers, like the gentleman on the right, with the “Customs Declaration Form” flight attendants provided and we filled-out while our flight was approaching the airport.

There was one time when the Federal government thought it would save money by having Immigration officers and Customs officers perform each others duties. That had an immediate impact on me because of my very common name. A white-shirted officer, who normally performed customs inspections, was examining my passport and when he compared it to data in an Immigration database he thought he identified me as a convicted felon. I was immediately asked to step out of line to be interviewed by more experienced blue-shirted immigration offices. The more experienced officers were quickly able to determine I was not the felon and allowed me to proceed to Customs and on my way home.