Airman helps Iraqi family to safety in U.S.

Published Aug. 7, 2008
By Corey Dahl
21st Space Wing Public Affairs

PETERSON AIR FORCE BASE, Colo. -- In 2006, Master Sgt. Greg Jensen spent five months in Basra, Iraq, working as the lone American contracting director in the volatile region.

Alone in an unfamiliar country, Sergeant Jensen often put his life in the hands of Vincent Talia, his Iraqi interpreter.

"He was there to help me negotiate contracts, to call and warn me not to go out some nights, to tell me what places were dangerous," Sergeant Jensen said. "I really felt like I owed him. He saved my life."

So, when he got back to the U.S., Sergeant Jensen, a Team Peterson contracts inspection manager with Air Force Space Command's Inspector General Office, returned the favor.

Sergeant Jensen has spent the last 18 months navigating a sea of paperwork to bring Mr. Talia and his family - under threat by militants for assisting U.S. and multi-national forces in Iraq - to the U.S.

Thanks to a special Visa program for U.S. armed forces interpreters, six of the nine Talias - Vincent, his wife, his parents and two of his sisters - have made it to Colorado and are now living with Sergeant Jensen. Another three - Vincent's sister, brother-in-law and aunt - are due to arrive sometime in September.

A happy story, for sure, but one that was full of numerous challenges and one that is far from complete.

"I gave them my word"

Arriving in Basra, one of Iraq's largest cities, Sergeant Jensen faced a difficult - and dangerous - task: he was charged with rebuilding infrastructure in the city and four surrounding provinces, all of which were still teeming with sectarian violence.

While his work was appreciated by most, it also landed him the number two spot on a militant party's blacklist, where he found he had some familiar company - number three on the list was his interpreter, Vincent.

Because of their blacklist status, Vincent and his family members, who had also been helping U.S. and multi-national forces, saw threatening notices about them papered over their neighbors' houses. One of Vincent's sisters was kidnapped for three days. They were eventually forced to stay inside their home most days, often sleeping on the roof at night because it was safer.

"It was like a jail," Vincent said. "A comfortable jail."

As Sergeant Jensen's deployment wrapped up and he prepared to leave, Vincent asked for help getting his family to safety in the U.S. Sergeant Jensen, though he knew it would be a long and arduous process, agreed. Saying no, he said, never even crossed his mind.

"I gave them my word," he said. "How would I have felt if I had gone back and found out these guys were killed for helping us? I don't think I could live with that. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if we didn't at least try."

Endless red tape

Using the United States' Special Immigration Visa program for Iraqi and Afghan translators, Sergeant Jensen and the Talias set to work on the family's initial applications.

Just to be considered for the program, the Talias had to fill out dozens of forms, secure a letter of recommendation from a commander in Iraq, undergo background checks and pony up hundreds of dollars in application fees. Once finished, Sergeant Jensen packed the applications into his carry-on and toted them home, mailing all the paperwork to U.S. Citizen and Immigration Services in Nebraska the day after he landed.

But that was just the beginning. All nine of the applications had to slowly wend their way through the Visa system. The Talias practically lived at the U.S. Embassy in Amman, Jordan, as they went through the interview process, received appropriate vaccinations and tracked down and copied passports, birth certificates and marriage licenses.

Back in the U.S., Sergeant Jensen kept a watchful eye on the process, staying in constant contact with the Talias and the immigration agencies. At his home, Sergeant Jensen owns several inches-thick binders stuffed full of application copies, official letters and other paperwork, all from the year-and-a-half effort to get the Talias to America.

"It was not easy," Vincent Talia said, shaking his head. "The process here is not easy."

After several months of bog-downs and tie-ups at various steps in the Visa process, the Talias and Sergeant Jensen reached their breaking point. In Washington D.C. for an awards ceremony, Sergeant Jensen and his wife took the opportunity to ask several lawmakers for help with their situation. U.S. Sen. Gordon Smith, a Republican representing Sergeant Jensen's home state of Oregon, expressed interest, and his office stepped in to help expedite the process.

Finally, six of the nine Talias arrived in Chicago March 27, where Sergeant Jensen met them and took the whole family to his home in Pueblo West. Three remaining family members are still held up in Jordan but should arrive soon, if all goes well.

The road ahead

The Talias' arrival in America doesn't mean the end of their challenges, though.

For their first four months in America, the family split tight quarters with the Jensens while they looked for a place to live and jobs. They shared space with Sergeant Jensen, his wife Tina and the Jensens' two teenage sons in a four-bedroom house. Though they were forced to leave many of their belongings in Iraq, what they were able to bring or ship spilled out of the Jensens' garage.

The family moved into a rental home in August, though, which has allowed them to spread out a little more. A couple family members have found jobs already, but several are still looking. Vincent has also received his driver's license, after hitting the road often with Sergeant Jensen and his learner's permit over the summer.

All the adjustment has been tough on the family, none of whom had ever set foot in America before, but Vincent says they're taking it one step at a time.

"It's hard to have to begin from zero," Vincent said. "I've begun a new life, though, so I have to go step by step."

And while they hope to return to Iraq for visits in the future, the family is certain America is where they want to be from now on.

"I would like to go back to Iraq, see our family and friends," said Sabah, Vincent's father. "But this is our home now."

For the Jensens, the whole experience has been educational. Their sons - and even their dog - have learned some Arabic from the Talias, and they enjoyed the Iraqi cuisine the family whipped up every night while they were staying at the Jensens' house.

They've also learned about the difficulties facing refugees. No resources for refugees currently exist in Pueblo, so the Jensens are forced to rent a van and take the Talias north to Colorado Springs or Denver for medical services and the like. The resources they have found they've stumbled upon mostly through word of mouth or by accident.

"None of this stuff is advertised," Sergeant Jensen said. "We've had to learn it all along the way, and it hasn't been easy. And if the Talias hadn't had us, they would have had to do this all on their own."

Working with Senator Smith and various immigration agencies, they're hoping to come up with ways to streamline the application process and make the transition easier for immigrants. They're also working with a Colorado Springs refugee services nonprofit to establish an office in Pueblo.

"We want to help more Iraqis move, not just to the U.S., but everywhere else," Sergeant Jensen said. "We want to make this process a little better so it's easier to help these guys who have saved our lives."