Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, April 25, 1993 TAG: 9304250009
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ed Shamy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
They had reached, finally, their promised land - each face representing an epic story to be woven into the American blend.
We still receive immigrants, but there's no Ellis Island to pass through. They come to many ports and many airfields, their mere arrival signaling the fulfillment of a long-held dream.
On a blustery day last week, when the wind drove rain horizontally and great patches of cloud snared in mountain folds, an American Eagle prop plane touched down on the rain-slick tarmac at the Roanoke Regional Airport.
Mary Hatch was waiting alone at Gate 1, a small bouquet of flowers on her lap.
Mary's eyes got moist when the plane taxied into position at the terminal and, one by one, the propellors stopped whirling.
She worked tirelessly for three years to reach the moment. It started innocently when a friend asked if Mary would tutor a young Haitian man in English.
Mary did, with some reluctance, but she quickly became more than an English teacher to Julien Paul. Mary Hatch became his attorney and his conscience, helping him through the mine field of American life.
Julien came to the United States in a boat in 1979, with an understanding that if he worked hard he could do better here than he could in Haiti.
He unloaded steamships and picked oranges. Eventually, Julien moved north to Virginia to pick apples.
He ended up in Roanoke, always working - at scrap yards, brickyards and restaurants - improving his English by studying with Mary Hatch.
He visited Haiti once and married his sweetheart. His son was born in Gonaives, Haiti, while Julien was in Roanoke.
He got his citizenship and has since cast ballots in elections for mayor and for president. He works two full-time jobs, earning only slightly more than minimum wage and regularly sending money to his family in Haiti.
It was Mary Hatch who pushed every which way to reunite Julien with his wife and son. She made phone calls and wrote letters, helping Julien scale an intimidating bureaucratic rock face.
It was Mary who somehow struck the right chord in a discordant country two weeks ago. She dispatched Julien, one last time, to his native country to fetch his family when word came back that they were free to leave.
And it was Mary who, alone, watched the staircase unfold from the back of the American Eagle airplane.
It was Mary who gasped when she saw P.J., Julien's 3-year-old son, emerge. And Claudette, Julien's wife. And Julien.
Mary cried, but just a little bit.
Another story starts here.
Getting here was the easy part. The real job is taking full advantage.
Claudette speaks no English. She and P.J. will need citizenship. But they are here now, new threads ready for weaving into the American blend.
by CNB