2 cities divided as river border thickens

After more than 150 years of co-existing, the Canadian city of Sarnia, Ont., and its American neighbour, Port Huron, Mich., are growing apart as new border restrictions take effect.

What was once a close-knit relationship — evidenced in joint civic projects, friendships and even a shared orchestra — has eroded in the eight years since the Sept. 11 al-Qaeda attacks in the U.S. prompted a tightening of border security.

With the introduction of a passport requirement at all Canada-U.S. land crossings as of June 1, some residents of the communities are fearful of the economic and social effects on their way of life.

"When you have all these security barriers and you have all these security laws, now you have the passport law coming into play, it's going to have a profound impact on the relationship," said Sarnia Mayor Mike Bradley.

From his second floor office at Sarnia City Hall, he can see the Coast Guard and U.S. military helicopters hovering along the St. Clair River that divides the two countries. "That's the new world order we're under now, that they are continually doing surveillance."

About $30 million is being spent by the U.S. government on the so-called Northern Border Project, an initiative to shore up security along the river, plus portions of other border waterways.

In Port Huron, 11 high-tech surveillance towers are being erected along the river to keep an eye on the world's longest undefended border.

Port Huron Mayor Brian Moeller is more supportive of the heightened security. "I just think that freedom of moving, we have to give that up in today's society unfortunately," says Moeller.

20,000 Canadians apply for enhanced cards

But fears abound that the thousands of cars and trucks that typically travel back and forth across the Blue Water Bridge connecting the two cities will see less traffic with the new restrictions — and less business on either side as a result.

To try to minimize such a downturn, four provinces and some states have introduced enhanced driver's licences (EDLs) or identification cards fitted with microchips that can be used as a cheaper alternative to passports.

Nearly 20,000 people had applied for the voluntary souped-up cards by mid-May in the provinces offering them: British Columbia, Quebec, Ontario and Manitoba. Several other provinces have taken a wait-and-see approach, while in March Saskatchewan shelved plans to unveil its EDL after the province's privacy commissioner expressed concerns.

Ontario's Privacy Commissioner, Ann Cavoukain, has also expressed concerns with the Radio Frequency Identification tags used in the cards, calling for an on-off switch to prevent people other than customs officials from covertly tracking people's activities and movements.

Protective sleeves offered to drivers to keep prying signals away from their data was not enough, she concluded, saying many would likely abandon the sleeves since they don't fit in wallets.

And even as the technology rolls out, an EKOS Research study commissioned by Canada's privacy commissioner in March 2009 suggests Canadians are still worried about the impact RFID may have on their privacy: a third (38 per cent) said they were very concerned, while 44 per cent were somewhat concerned.

And the cost is still a factor for some. Garry McDonald of the Sarnia Chamber of Commerce says research shows Michigan drivers are unwilling to cough up the extra $45 for a high-tech licence, and only one in three Americans have a passport.

End of good old days

Already suffering from the "thickened" border is the International Symphony Orchestra. Made up of musicians from both sides of the river, the orchestra plays in both cities. But after more than 50 years, it's in jeopardy due to a lack of attendance, with as much as a 70 per cent drop in Americans attending concerts on the Canadian side.

"We always had a sense of family and connections between the two communities," said Ann Brown, the orchestra's executive director who lives on the Canadian side. "In fact, we always referred to it as our bridged community, singularly. And that always brought sort of a sense of pride and warmth.

"It's almost like losing some sense of family or friendship," says Brown.

Over in New Brunswick, the community of St. Stephen is suffering similar separation pains with its neighbour across the St. Croix River — Calais, Maine.

Sitting at Border Café in St. Stephen, a few hundred metres from the border, where residents from both sides gather to talk news, sports and weather, residents say the two cities were once like a single community.

Patrick Beausoleil, who owns a gas station in Calais but lives in St. Stephen, remembers crossing into the U.S. as a child to play in the Calais pool.

"We would sneak under the fence and would walk to the pool and spend the day," says Beausoleil. "No passport nothing. I guess one day the border patrol grabbed two or three of us but they just gave us a ride to the pool. That was it."

Calais residents also fear the economic ramifications of the border regulations, with Maine's big draw being its cheap gas — about 75 cents cheaper a gallon than on the New Brunswick side, and its other being cheap goods.

Stores like Walmart see high Canadian traffic, Calais resident Cathy Lyons says. "If you look in most of these parking lots you see a lot of Canadians. It's going to stop."

Arne Kislenko, who teaches history at Ryerson University in Toronto and worked for over a decade in border security at that city's busy Pearson International Airport, says that sense of loss in border communities across the country is likely to intensify.

"We're not going back to the old days," says Kislenko. "And I think with increasing technology we're likely to see more infrared cameras, drones in the sky over the border because that's a reflection of our security concerns especially on the American side."