Homeland Security, Terrorists, Passport trauma, etc.
After having learned that I must have a passport to return to the US should I take a bike trip to Canada or Mexico this year, I began the process.
I called my local PO (Marion) only to be told that the postmaster was not taking passport appointments until week after next, so I marched my completed form, notarized birth certificate, photos, driver's license and wet/cold carcass to the Florence PO last Thursday, in the midst of the icy storm upper South Carolina almost sent our way.
Since they are closed for lunch from 12 until 1, I went across the street and wasted 45 minutes and several times that many dollars at Office Depot. Got back at precisely 1 PM. Shortly thereafter the door opened, and a helpful fellow ushered me into his office for the passport interview. Immediately he noticed that my notarized birth certificate included a problematic statement. "DELAYED" it read. He explained that, while I claimed to have been born in 1944, the "DELAYED" certificate was not posted until late in 1945. Unfortunately the passport people will not accept a "DELAYED" birth certificate without additional proof of my birthdate. Evidently mine was labeled "DELAYED" since I was born at home and delivered by my aunt who was also a registered nurse and only after my younger sister's birth the next year was mine duly recorded.
"You will have to provide at least alternative documents proving that you were born when you say you were," the nice fellow explained. "You can bring early school records, an early life insurance policy, an old family Bible with births recorded in it, or a signed and notarized affidavit from your mother testifying to her being present and that you really were born on the date you claim."
Now let's see. Since my birth almost 63 years ago, everything I have ever seen points to my entering this world on April 14, 1944. It has been accepted by Social Security, South Carolina Department of Transportation, Erskine College, the Universities of North and South Carolina, Francis Marion University, the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools, Boy Scouts of America, the South Carolina Retirement System, Prudential Insurance Company, Lincoln National Insurance Company, the US Post Office (yes, I worked for them one Christmas), Sears (yeah, I worked for them too one holiday season), my baby book, my South Carolina School Bus Drivers license, my SC motor vehicle license, my SC motorcycle driver's license, Blue Cross/Blue Shield of SC, the Internal Revenue Service, the SC Tax Commission, my 1949 appendectomy surgical records at the old Columbia Hospital, my 1953 tonsillectomy records from the Baptist Hospital, records at the old SC Children's Bureau, family courts in three counties, and a few other institutions.
The Winnsboro Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church thinks I was born when I say I was, as does the Due West ARP Church, as does the Centenary United Methodist Church, the Bethlehem UMC, and the First UMC Marion. The Marion Lions Club and the Marion Public Library believe me to be 62 and fading fast. The Eagle award I earned in 1961 at the age of 17 place me as having been born in 1944. The marriage license I got in 1965 said I was 21.3 years old in July of 1965, which would infer that I was born 21 and 1/3 years earlier, or roughly April, 1944. Medical records at Marion Medical Group, the Marion Medical Center, Duke University Hospital, UNC Memorial Hospital at Chapel Hill, McLeod Regional Medical Center, the Medical University of South Carolina, Fairfield Memorial Hospital, Simpsonville Medical Center, Conway Hospital ER, Adult and Pediatric Urology of Marion, Stokes Regional Eye Center, and a host of now retired or deceased physicians attests to my having been first exposed to planet earth was April 14, 1944.
My having graduated from high school in 1962 infers that I was born 18 years earlier, as does my 1966 college degree at the ripe old age of 22 affirm a 1944 birthdate. The kindergarten photo with a dozen or so classmates from 1949 would place my entrance into this realm around 1944, plus those in the photo---Vicki, Billy, Doug, Bucky, Dickie, Glenda, Ann, Judy, Hayne, Jamie, Joyce, and me, of course, would all attest to having been five years old at the time. I mean who else would have posed in costume from various tales---Little Bo Peep, Tom Thumb, Peter Rabbit, etc., than a bunch of pre-schoolers? And yep, there I am, in my "Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit, right in the middle.
My second (and even more disastrous) marriage on April 10, 1994, four days before I was to turn 50, suggests an April 14, 1944 birthing (I had wanted to remarry before 50---now my goal is to stay single until 100 and then rethink options).
My almost 63-year-old prostate gland, arthritic feet, weak knees, bad back, sinitis infections, hypertension, thyroid malfunction, diverticulitis, acute anxiety attacks, GERD, colon spasms, loss of hearing, reduced night vision, white head, and sour disposition also make a strong case for having been birthed in 1944.
If my eldest Stevenson cousin (Lee) was born in 1943, and his sister and I were born the next year, by old math or new math that still works out to have been 1944. And, if my eldest Dove cousin was born in 1943, and she was one year ahead of me in grammar school, high school and college, and my sister is the next Dove after me, and her birth certificate says October 1945, this is strong evidence that I must have popped out in 1944, right?
Now you have a little better idea why I have a personal grudge against these middle Eastern trouble-makers and am not a big fan of the US Post Office, the Passport office, or Homeland Security. If none of the above documents suffice, I do have secured away my great-grandfather Dove's discharge papers from the Confederate Army, 1865, in Richmond, Virginia. I also have a Baker Family genealogy that shows I am a direct descendant of Nathan Evans, of the old Marion District, who was one of Marion's men in the American Revolution. I can't help but wonder what old General Francis Marion would think about all this red tape here two plus centuries later. Wonder if his birth certificate was "DELAYED" too? And was his mother present when he was born?
I called my local PO (Marion) only to be told that the postmaster was not taking passport appointments until week after next, so I marched my completed form, notarized birth certificate, photos, driver's license and wet/cold carcass to the Florence PO last Thursday, in the midst of the icy storm upper South Carolina almost sent our way.
Since they are closed for lunch from 12 until 1, I went across the street and wasted 45 minutes and several times that many dollars at Office Depot. Got back at precisely 1 PM. Shortly thereafter the door opened, and a helpful fellow ushered me into his office for the passport interview. Immediately he noticed that my notarized birth certificate included a problematic statement. "DELAYED" it read. He explained that, while I claimed to have been born in 1944, the "DELAYED" certificate was not posted until late in 1945. Unfortunately the passport people will not accept a "DELAYED" birth certificate without additional proof of my birthdate. Evidently mine was labeled "DELAYED" since I was born at home and delivered by my aunt who was also a registered nurse and only after my younger sister's birth the next year was mine duly recorded.
"You will have to provide at least alternative documents proving that you were born when you say you were," the nice fellow explained. "You can bring early school records, an early life insurance policy, an old family Bible with births recorded in it, or a signed and notarized affidavit from your mother testifying to her being present and that you really were born on the date you claim."
Now let's see. Since my birth almost 63 years ago, everything I have ever seen points to my entering this world on April 14, 1944. It has been accepted by Social Security, South Carolina Department of Transportation, Erskine College, the Universities of North and South Carolina, Francis Marion University, the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools, Boy Scouts of America, the South Carolina Retirement System, Prudential Insurance Company, Lincoln National Insurance Company, the US Post Office (yes, I worked for them one Christmas), Sears (yeah, I worked for them too one holiday season), my baby book, my South Carolina School Bus Drivers license, my SC motor vehicle license, my SC motorcycle driver's license, Blue Cross/Blue Shield of SC, the Internal Revenue Service, the SC Tax Commission, my 1949 appendectomy surgical records at the old Columbia Hospital, my 1953 tonsillectomy records from the Baptist Hospital, records at the old SC Children's Bureau, family courts in three counties, and a few other institutions.
The Winnsboro Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church thinks I was born when I say I was, as does the Due West ARP Church, as does the Centenary United Methodist Church, the Bethlehem UMC, and the First UMC Marion. The Marion Lions Club and the Marion Public Library believe me to be 62 and fading fast. The Eagle award I earned in 1961 at the age of 17 place me as having been born in 1944. The marriage license I got in 1965 said I was 21.3 years old in July of 1965, which would infer that I was born 21 and 1/3 years earlier, or roughly April, 1944. Medical records at Marion Medical Group, the Marion Medical Center, Duke University Hospital, UNC Memorial Hospital at Chapel Hill, McLeod Regional Medical Center, the Medical University of South Carolina, Fairfield Memorial Hospital, Simpsonville Medical Center, Conway Hospital ER, Adult and Pediatric Urology of Marion, Stokes Regional Eye Center, and a host of now retired or deceased physicians attests to my having been first exposed to planet earth was April 14, 1944.
My having graduated from high school in 1962 infers that I was born 18 years earlier, as does my 1966 college degree at the ripe old age of 22 affirm a 1944 birthdate. The kindergarten photo with a dozen or so classmates from 1949 would place my entrance into this realm around 1944, plus those in the photo---Vicki, Billy, Doug, Bucky, Dickie, Glenda, Ann, Judy, Hayne, Jamie, Joyce, and me, of course, would all attest to having been five years old at the time. I mean who else would have posed in costume from various tales---Little Bo Peep, Tom Thumb, Peter Rabbit, etc., than a bunch of pre-schoolers? And yep, there I am, in my "Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit, right in the middle.
My second (and even more disastrous) marriage on April 10, 1994, four days before I was to turn 50, suggests an April 14, 1944 birthing (I had wanted to remarry before 50---now my goal is to stay single until 100 and then rethink options).
My almost 63-year-old prostate gland, arthritic feet, weak knees, bad back, sinitis infections, hypertension, thyroid malfunction, diverticulitis, acute anxiety attacks, GERD, colon spasms, loss of hearing, reduced night vision, white head, and sour disposition also make a strong case for having been birthed in 1944.
If my eldest Stevenson cousin (Lee) was born in 1943, and his sister and I were born the next year, by old math or new math that still works out to have been 1944. And, if my eldest Dove cousin was born in 1943, and she was one year ahead of me in grammar school, high school and college, and my sister is the next Dove after me, and her birth certificate says October 1945, this is strong evidence that I must have popped out in 1944, right?
Now you have a little better idea why I have a personal grudge against these middle Eastern trouble-makers and am not a big fan of the US Post Office, the Passport office, or Homeland Security. If none of the above documents suffice, I do have secured away my great-grandfather Dove's discharge papers from the Confederate Army, 1865, in Richmond, Virginia. I also have a Baker Family genealogy that shows I am a direct descendant of Nathan Evans, of the old Marion District, who was one of Marion's men in the American Revolution. I can't help but wonder what old General Francis Marion would think about all this red tape here two plus centuries later. Wonder if his birth certificate was "DELAYED" too? And was his mother present when he was born?
posted by Paul Dove at 1:34 PM
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