I’ve never felt more like a spy than when I was handed two folders of alien case files at the National Archives in Kansas City.
I am trying to obtain as much information as I can about my family history to piece together and preserve our story. During my research, I found my great-grandfather’s sister’s names on a list of immigrants among the alien case files at the National Archives in downtown Kansas City, Missouri, just 20 minutes from my apartment.
Alien case files, of course, relate to immigrants who were not yet naturalized citizens of the United States (not little green extraterrestrials). The files were “created by the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) beginning in April 1944… [and] contain all records of any active case of an alien not yet naturalized as they passed through the United States immigration and inspection process,” according to the National Archives.
The Kricsfelds immigrated to the U.S. in the 1910s and 1920s from what is now Edinet, Moldova, and ended up in Omaha, Nebraska. Two of my great-grandfather’s sisters immigrated and did not become naturalized citizens until the 1950s; the alien case files I found were about them and hadn’t been viewed in nearly seven decades.
To reach the point where I was shown the files, I had to go through the process of completing an online course ensuring I knew how to handle old documents and archival material; scheduling a time to go to the research room (so they had time to bring the files in from offsite); having my I.D. scanned and getting my photo taken.
The payoff was worth it, though. The browned manila file folders, each stamped with case numbers, dates and seals, contained far more information (and photographs) than I ever expected to see.
Most of the files were indicative of the time they were processed — right in the middle of the McCarthy era and the Red Scare. Although you might think that two middle-aged Jewish women, both married and shorter than 5 feet and 4 inches tall, are unlikely to be communists plotting to overthrow the government during a decade of economic prosperity, the government didn’t.
What is today Edinet, Moldova, had previously been part of Romania and, at the end of World War II, ended up within the borders of the Soviet Union. The reshuffling of borders resulted in my great-great-aunts’ files saying they came from Russia, which likely made the naturalization process more difficult.
Both had to swear they were not communists by signing documents multiple times throughout the course of their naturalization process. There were even FBI files in the folders, both with stamps from the FBI essentially saying that it could not find any dirt on my family.
In addition to its obsession with potential communists, the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) was incredibly strict. One aunt failed to report her address within an allotted time slot in January of 1954 (despite having done so for the previous three years), resulting in an interrogation (of which there is a written transcript).
An INS worker must’ve looked my great-great-aunt, then 58 years old, in the eye when he said, “Failure [to report your address within the allotted time] makes you liable to prosecution — prosecution and possible deportation. The acceptance [of the address information] does not relieve you from any liability under the law. Do you understand?”
She signed the document, saying that she understood. Prosecution was waived by an attorney a few days later.
Eventually, both took the oath of allegiance and were naturalized, ending what must have been an incredibly stressful few years.
I learned all this in the span of 45 minutes on a Wednesday afternoon. I was alone in the research room (the entire building seemed almost deserted) and had been given permission to photograph every document — they are no longer classified, and my great-great-aunts are long deceased.
The National Archives and its staff are amazing, and I am incredibly grateful that I had access to this information and their help. The fact that millions of historical files are stored intact and (with a little hoop-jumping) accessible to everyone is, to me, mind-blowing.
I implore you to visit the National Archives in Kansas City’s website (archives.gov/kansas-city) and look around; if you see they have a file about your family, take a little time to schlep downtown and see it. It’s a special resource that we are fortunate to have access to.