Courtesy Catholic Charities
In 1955, Rosalia Redelsperger, then Rosalia Plechl (front left), resettled in Oregon as part of one of the first refugee families welcomed by Catholic Relief Services Refugee Resettlement program.
|Catholic Charities of Oregon: New orders 'gravely affect' refugees|
Catholic Charities of Oregon released a statement following President Donald Trump’s new executive order March 6. The nonprofit voiced strong opposition to the order, which imposes a 90-day travel ban on refugees from six predominately Muslim nations. It also suspends the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program for 120 days, denying all refugees entry during that period.
“Our nation has enacted executive orders that will gravely affect the lives of hundreds of thousands of refugees and their families in the United States and around the world,” read the statement.
The order, which goes into effect March 16, means “all approved refugees, regardless of nationality or country of origin, will not be admitted to the United States,” said the organization, pointing out that the 120-day period could last longer if the administration chooses to revise the existing vetting process for refugee admissions.
“Because many of the time-sensitive vetting requirements undertaken by refugees approved for resettlement could expire during the suspension and/or a vetting revision period, Catholic Charities anticipates the admissions program to pause for many months.”
The statement said it is important to note the distinction between the travel ban and the refugee program suspension, “as these are two different policies causing some confusion.”
Even though Iraq was removed from the travel ban, for example, an Iraqi family with refugee status cannot be resettled in the United States until the suspension ends and after they meet the new requirements.
“The impact of these new orders will also be severe on family reunification, which has always been a top priority of the refugee resettlement program,” the statement read. “This uncertainty will leave families separated, helpless and without choice or options of recourse.”
Due to this suspension, agencies with refugee resettlement programs nationwide are being forced to close their programs or to make severe cuts to services and staffing.
“At Catholic Charities of Oregon, we remain committed to our mission, but we too have recently been forced to reduce the number of staff in our refugee program,” said the Portland-based nonprofit. “Unfortunately, many of those becoming unemployed or underemployed are refugees themselves who have been using their experience, language and skills to welcome and assist those refugees who have endured the long and arduous road to safety.”
The organization said it is in “urgent need” of volunteer and donor support to sustain core services that assist the more than 500 individuals who have resettled to Oregon in the last eight months.
“At Catholic Charites of Oregon, we stand behind our unfailing commitment to serve the most vulnerable, including the stranger,” the statement read. “We remain as committed as ever to our longstanding refugee resettlement program, to embracing and valuing all that these brave families bring to our country, and to helping them in a just and merciful way.”
Rosalia Redelsperger doesn’t remember a lot about living in Yugoslavia. Mostly she remembers leaving it in 1944.
The then-8-year-old Rosi Plechl and her family were awoken in the middle of the night and told to prepare their things. The German army would be escorting them out of the country at 9 a.m. It was October and the Yugoslav Partisans were taking back German-occupied territory. Germans who had settled in the country for hundreds of years were told to get out. More than 7,000 ethnic Germans were shot by Partisans, more than 48,000 died in Yugoslav concentration camps, and nearly 2,000 were abducted and sent to Soviet labor camps.
Fleeing the camps
Tensions were rising even in the farming town where the Plechl family lived. One of Redelsperger’s sisters, Anna, ended up with a scar on her leg from a ricocheting bullet. It was the same bullet fired by local Partisans to kill her friend, a German soldier.
As they prepared their things, every bank was closed, and the family had no money for their journey. They had to flee their home, leaving all their possessions behind.
“We didn’t know we were going to stay away forever,” says Redelsperger. But she’s never returned. By November of 1944, all property belonging to ethnic Germans was confiscated and their citizenship revoked. They were deemed enemies of the state.
For more than two weeks, Redelsperger’s family rode through the rain in a horse-drawn wagon destined to take them to Austria. They slept on sidewalks and in barns.
After 10 years in Austria, they were invited to make a home in the United States as refugees. In 1955, Redelsperger, her parents, Johann and Josephine, her brother, Johann Jr., her sister Anna and Anna’s young children, Peter and Franziska, were one of the initial refugee families welcomed to Oregon as part of Catholic Relief Service’s refugee resettlement program.
The Oregon program, now run by Catholic Charities of Oregon, has welcomed thousands of refugees since 1945.
Redelsperger’s story is not unlike other refugee stories. They share commonalities: war, persecution, torture, fear.
A hope for safety, welcome
Toc Soneoulay-Gillespie, director of the Catholic Charities of Oregon refugee resettlement program, and her team greet every refugee entering through their program at the airport with a bottle of water and a culturally specific hot meal. The team finds the arriving person or family a place to live and ensures they have enough groceries to last a week. Twice a week for a month, the refugees attend classes that cover how to live in America, including everything from household safety to U.S. laws.
“Everybody just wants a home and wants to be safe,” says Soneoulay-Gillespie.
Despite being a teenager reluctant to make a new home in the United States, Redelsperger learned English and became a citizen. The 81-year-old Salem resident is a member of Queen of Peace Parish.
“I wouldn’t trade this country for anything now,” she says.