NEW YORK — Judson Addy and Agnes Tarawally, immigrants from war-shattered Liberia, are grateful to be American citizens. These days, however, their patriotism coexists with deep frustration.
Both Addy and Tarawally have children and grandchildren stranded in a refugee camp in Guinea, their long-standing efforts to settle in the United States bogged down by security measures that were tightened after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.
"I don't have any bad feelings toward America," said Tarawally, who lives in the Bronx and works at a Manhattan hotel. "But I need my children to come join me. It's a lot of pain for us, a lot of heartbreak."
The number of refugees resettled in the United States dropped steadily over the past decade from a peak of 132,000 in 1992. The Bush administration set a goal of 70,000 for the 2002 fiscal year that ended Sept. 30, but only 27,000 were admitted as security clearances became more stringent after the attacks.
The administration has set a target of 50,000 refugee admissions this year, but says its effort to speed up the clearance process faces daunting challenges -- including threats of violence against U.S. field officers and the discovery of widespread fraud by refugees falsely claiming to have relatives in America.
Private agencies that help refugees resettle in the United States understand the government's dilemmas, yet plead for speedier handling of cases.
"Nobody wants the program to be a vehicle for terrorists to enter the United States, especially those of us working with the refugees," said Ralston Deffenbaugh, president of the Baltimore-based Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service.
"On the other hand, the balance seems to have gotten skewed," he said. "The price is being paid by the tens of thousands of people stranded overseas who are eligible for resettlement."
According to refugee agencies, roughly 22,000 refugees -- including the Addy and Tarawally relatives -- had been approved for admission to the United States before the Sept. 11 attacks under a family-reunification program. Many remain overseas in squalid and sometimes dangerous camps, the agencies say.
Tarawally, 46, moved to the United States in 1980. Her two grown daughters won approval in 1998 to join her, she said, but have been unable to get updated information about their cases from U.S. diplomats or immigration officials.
