  November 24, 2002Looking Over the Northern Border, and Over Their ShoulderBy MATTHEW PURDY
He lives in this speck of a town on the Canadian border, and whether he's home near the United States checkpoint or at his bar up the road, he's eager to do his part in the global neighborhood watch. "When you see a strange face, you call," he said. "I don't want some yo-yo coming through here on the way to New York City to blow something up. If I can do something to stop them, I'd be happier than hell." So would we all. The United States-Canada border was always sort of the class trip of foreign travel novel, but nonthreatening. But the post-Sept. 11 hunt for holes in the security net identified it as a prime place from which terrorists could slip into the United States, helped by Canada's relatively lax immigration laws. As Washington congratulated itself last week for establishing the Homeland Security Department, you got a more sobering view here on the homeland's front step. On Thursday morning, Roger Lanoue, a marina operator, was eating at the Ole Tymes Cafe, in the corner of New York bordering Vermont and Canada. "In the winter, the lake freezes over," he said, motioning toward Lake Champlain. "If you want to get across, skate, ski." Sneaking across is much tougher since last year. There are hundreds more border agents, a web of cameras and motion sensors, and better uses of intelligence, aircraft and boats. The tightening is evident in slower lines at major crossings and soaring seizures of marijuana. Still, there are only about 500 border patrol agents on the 4,000-mile border, compared with 9,300 along the 2,000-mile Mexican border. In town after town here, the official notion of tight-as-a-drum domestic security gives way to the reality of plugging holes in an open society. Canadians keep post office boxes in the United States because mail service is better. There is a constant flow of workers and relatives. A driver on a rural school bus route said she crossed into Canada every morning, just to turn around on the safest part of the road. Residents praise the re-enforced border, but as one said, "If there's a will, there's a way." Celine Paquette, an insurance agent in Champlain, N.Y., and a trustee of the State University of New York, appreciates the new vigilance, but worries about the root of terrorism. "They absolutely hate us," she said. "It can't only be because we're pro-Israel. Is it because we're seen as haughty or we think we're so right?" That question hangs in the air here, with people acutely aware that no border can be made impermeable. One remote crossing closes at 4 p.m. "We just put up the gate and turn off the lights," said an agent there. (With the nation on alert, a Customs Service guard and cameras now mind the crossing on off hours.) Up the road, a sign pointing to a federal office reminds travelers to "report immediately for inspection." Farther west, the St. Regis Mohawk reservation straddles the border, making it a favorite territory for smugglers. Drive north on the reservation and ask for directions. "You're in Quebec, Canada," said Darcy Day, a tribal council member. But there's no official border crossing. "This is Mohawk land," he said, although agents from both countries and the tribal police watch it closely. Rivers keep you from driving farther into Canada, but Mr. Day said that in winter, you can cross by snowmobile, and head toward Montreal "without checkpoints." Or make the reverse trip to New York. JENNIFER COWAN lives on the border in Chateaugay, N.Y. She recently reported suspicious men in vans, and agents found illegal immigrant smuggling. Living here, she said, "You feel an obligation to your country." She also sees domestic defense in a larger context. Before joining her father's farm equipment business, Ms. Cowan, 27, received a business degree at SUNY-Binghamton. She had many foreign classmates, and their antipathy for America surprised her. She has thought about that a lot since the terrorist attacks. "I don't know how to tackle so many years of inbred feelings about America," she said. But trying to stop it at the border hardly seems enough. On her piece of the homeland, she can monitor the fields for suspicious arrivals from Canada. Even then, she said, "Someone could be coming through the woods." |
ROUT RIVER, N.Y. THIS is where the homeland begins,
and thankfully, Morgan Badger is on the first line of defense.CBC Infomatrix / CBC POV Sports
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"A movie was being shot and they detained me for continuity."