“I looked up from my desk one day,” says Jill Montana, executive director of the International Friendship Center. “He was one of five men standing around in the hall outside my office. Of the assorted ages of the group, he appeared to be the oldest. All of them were clad in ragged clothes, and they all wore dusty, hard-worn, work boots. In soft spoken Spanish he told me he needed to make a copy of a piece of paper.
“I invited the men to come in and said of course I would be glad to make a copy. He approached my desk and showed me the document. It was a thin, wrinkled, yellowed birth certificate. He told me this was the only form of ID he possessed in the world.