The fluorescent lights of the airport security checkpoint seemed to intensify the already palpable tension. "Can you stand to the side, please? I need to call my supervisor," the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) agent’s words cut through the pre-flight bustle. It was a request that would mark a significant shift in my travel experience, turning routine airport procedures into a gauntlet of scrutiny.
Just moments before, my driver’s license had been scanned, an action usually followed by a reassuring green light. Instead, the Credential Authentication Technology (CAT) unit flashed red, a signal that immediately set off alarm bells. Meekly, I stepped aside, conscious of the growing line of impatient travelers forming behind me. This was the beginning of my journey into the world of heightened airport security, a world triggered by a recent trip to a country deemed "high-risk."
The supervisor arrived, initiating a series of screenings that felt both invasive and bewildering. First, the body scanner, its impersonal gaze assessing every contour. Then, the metal detector, its insistent beeps adding to the rising anxiety. A full-body pat-down followed, the female agent’s words, "I’m going to touch you here and here, like this and this," delivered with a detached professionalism that did little to ease the discomfort. My hands were then scanned for trace explosives, a procedure that left me feeling like a suspect in a crime I didn’t commit.
My carry-on bag was next, subjected to an exhaustive search. Every item was removed and meticulously examined. My wallet was opened, its contents scrutinized. Even the pages of the book I was reading were flipped through, as if the answers to some unknown question lay hidden within its text.
After what felt like an eternity, one agent turned to another, stating simply, "There’s nothing here." I replaced my shoes and coat, a sense of confusion washing over me. Would they ask more questions? Would they explain what they were looking for? The silence was unsettling. Finally, one of the TSA agents, noticing my bewildered expression, uttered the words I longed to hear: "You’re free to go."
I was on my way to Barbados for a work assignment, having arrived at the airport well in advance due to a check-in issue the previous day. An error message had instructed me to check in with a representative at the airport. While the attendant had issued my ticket without apparent concern, I suspected that this incident was linked to a recent journey to southeastern Turkey. This was my first experience with how my trip to a high-risk country—and it ruined airport security for me.
Flying to a High Security Risk Country
Two weeks prior, I was preparing to board a flight to Sanliurfa, Turkey, to report on the unveiling of a 12,000-year-old archaeological site. As I waited, a man in plainclothes approached me.
"Are you Elizabeth?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied, surprised and slightly apprehensive. How did he know my name?
"I need you to come with me."
He led me to the front of the line, to a more secluded area behind a wall. Another man stood waiting, whom I later presumed to be an agent from Homeland Security Investigations (HSI). He held a notepad and pen, ready to record my responses. He launched into a series of questions, meticulously noting my answers: What did I do for work? What was my typical workday like? Why was I traveling to Sanliurfa? What were my social media handles? Did I live with anyone? What were their social media handles? He observed that I must travel frequently for work, but my passport lacked stamps (it had been renewed recently, and this was my first international trip in nearly two years). Finally, I interrupted to ask, "What is this about?"
"You’re traveling right near the Syrian border," he explained. "Since you don’t have family or any connections there, and you’re traveling by yourself, we need to look into this. Nine times out of 10, though, everything checks out fine."
The implication was clear: they suspected I might be a terrorist. The realization was both shocking and unsettling.
Going Through Customs
My time in Turkey passed without incident. I visited Gobekli Tepe, a UNESCO World Heritage Site famed for its ancient monumental structures. I attended the unveiling of Karahantepe and indulged in the local cuisine, particularly the abundance of lamb dishes. After a while, I almost forgot the initial scrutiny I had faced before even leaving for my destination.
That is, until I arrived back in the United States.
During customs processing, the Customs and Border Protection (CBP) officer directed me to a separate room for further questioning. A second CBP officer repeated many of the questions the HSI agent had asked before my trip, but this time, they sought more detailed information about my experiences in Turkey. "Did you see anything suspicious while you were there? Any guns? If I Googled your article about Karahantepe, will I find it?" (For the record, it can be found online.)
A History of Bad Flights
I’ve always been an anxious flier. Not out of fear of turbulence or mechanical failure, but because a significant portion of my flights seem to be plagued by unforeseen problems. There was the time I was supposed to fly from Heathrow to Newark, only to spend five hours circling the English Channel due to a pressurization system malfunction. The plane couldn’t reach the altitude necessary to cross the Atlantic, and it couldn’t land at Heathrow due to the excess fuel. The pilot was forced to circle until enough fuel had been burned off, and the flight was rescheduled for the next day.
Then there was the instance of severe food poisoning in Oaxaca, striking just hours before my flight home. A considerable portion of the eight-hour flight was spent in the airplane bathroom.
And who could forget the demise of my hand-me-down suitcase? After slowly disintegrating throughout a two-week camping trip, its zipper finally gave way upon arrival at San Francisco International Airport. Everything had to be shrink-wrapped to ensure it made it home safely.
Despite my best efforts to arrive at the airport with ample time – two hours for domestic flights, three for international – I often find myself sprinting through the terminal, arriving at the gate just as the final boarding call is announced.
As someone who works in the travel industry, I can honestly say that I’m not particularly fond of flying. However, my recent experiences have added a new dimension to my anxiety.
Who’s at Risk of Getting "SSSS"
The Barbados incident was just the beginning. From that point on, every time I flew, I received the dreaded "SSSS" – "Secondary Security Screening Selection" – on my boarding pass. This was always preceded by an inability to check in online or at the airport kiosk and followed by full-body pat-downs and detailed baggage searches.
On my return flight from Barbados, I was informed that I had been "randomly selected by Homeland Security" for additional screening. Random? I highly doubted it.
It’s not only those who have recently visited U.S. Department of State-designated high-risk areas who are subjected to secondary screenings. Individuals identified as security risks by the TSA’s Secure Flight Program can include those who have booked last-minute or one-way flights, paid in cash, or have names that match individuals on a DHS watch list. My trip to a high-risk country—and it ruined airport security for me.
Searching for Solutions
The fourth time I was subjected to secondary screening, I was flying to Indiana to spend Christmas with my family. My mother had asked me to bring an old cell phone for her to trade in. After being flagged, the TSA agent asked if all my electronics were powered on. "Just an old cell phone," I replied. "It’s completely dead, I think." I took it out of my purse and pressed the power button. Nothing. They instructed me to leave the line and charge it.
While I sat next to the TSA checkpoint, impatiently waiting for the old phone to charge, I finally decided to search for solutions on my new phone. (Why did it take so long? Perhaps a naive sense of optimism).
I had assumed that applying for Global Entry would resolve the issue, but a quick online search revealed that others in similar situations had experienced no such luck. That’s when I discovered the DHS Traveler Redress Inquiry Program (DHS TRIP), a resource for individuals seeking resolution for difficulties experienced during travel screening at transportation hubs or when crossing U.S. borders. Travelers eligible for redress include those who have been denied or delayed airline boarding, denied or delayed entry or exit from the U.S., or repeatedly referred to additional screening.
To avoid additional screening, I could apply for a Redress Control Number (RCN), a seven-digit case number that would allow the TSA’s Secure Flight program to match me with the results of my case. If approved, I could use the RCN when booking flights to prevent being mistaken for a security risk.
As I went back through security, I asked the TSA official why I kept being flagged. I wanted official confirmation that my suspicion – that I was on a DHS watchlist – was true. She didn’t know, and the system didn’t provide that information. She was simply following protocol.
"Am I on some kind of Homeland Security watchlist?" I asked.
"Yeah, probably."
"What can I do to get off this list?"
"I don’t know."
"If I apply for redress, will that help?"
"Yeah, maybe."
Applying for Redress
Submitting a redress application was straightforward, despite some broken links on the DHS Trip Portal. First, I took a short quiz to determine my eligibility for redress, and then I created a Login.gov account and completed a Traveler Inquiry Form. To file my case, I provided details about my travel experiences, including flight dates, airports, and flight numbers. I also gave a detailed account of each incident and provided personal information like my birthday, height, and weight.
In addition to the form, I uploaded a copy of my passport. I could then check the status of my application via the "My Cases" tab on the DHS TRIP Portal. After one month, DHS TRIP sent me my final determination letter via email. My case was approved, and the letter included my redress number to provide when booking flights.
Since receiving my redress number, my flights have been relatively uneventful, although DHS TRIP "cannot guarantee" that future travels will be "delay-free." Still, it’s much less likely to happen. The worst thing that happened on my last flight was sprinting through Charleston International Airport to make a tight connection. That is something that I can live with over getting patted down at airport security any day after my trip to a high-risk country—and it ruined airport security for me.
