The visitor from Britain had hardly left Simon’s station when he looked up and saw a well-known film star entering his lane. He knew her immediately from her pictures in the newspapers and from the film he had seen a few days earlier at a neighborhood theater. The papers had said she would be returning to Hollywood from Europe, where she had been working for several months on a new picture.
There had been stories of her appearances in Paris, Rome, Madrid and Monaco, and the usual gossip about the men with whom she had been seen. Now here she was in person—dressed in a fetching suit which had a made-in-Paris look to it. She carried a handsome Italian-made handbag. On her wrist was a watch which Simon saw at a glance was worth several hundred dollars, because it was encrusted with small diamonds.
The actress handed Simon her declaration. It was signed with a carefree flourish—but there were no purchases listed, only personal belongings. Simon felt like groaning when he saw the declaration. It simply didn’t make sense for a well-known actress to be in Europe for six months without making a single purchase of clothing or jewelry.
Simon said, “You are certain you understand the regulations? A good many people don’t know that the declaration must include any wearing apparel purchased abroad, even though it has been worn.” Simon was trying, tactfully, to suggest that if she had any undeclared purchases, she still could “remember” them and amend the declaration without penalty. He didn’t want to make trouble for her because, as he explained later, “I really liked her pictures.” And there was the chance that she didn’t understand the regulations.
The actress snapped, “Of course, I understand. I took these things with me when I left the country.”
It was the tone of voice that did it. Simon shrugged and asked her to open her suitcases. The top layers of clothing were dresses with California designers’ labels attached, and Simon saw they were genuine California models.
Beneath these dresses there were other gowns with no labels on them. But Simon didn’t have to rely on a label to know that these were creations from the houses of Dior and Balenciaga. He recognized their Paris origin from the distinctive stitching and from other small peculiarities of design which were more reliable identifications than labels. A label might be changed or removed—but the work of the French seamstresses could not be altered.
Simon had only to glance through the suitcases to see that the matter had gone beyond his authority. He signalled for one of his superiors. The actress was asked to step into a private room for questioning and for a more thorough examination of her luggage. She was found to be carrying undeclared clothing and jewelry worth $10,800. She was not subjected to criminal prosecution, but she paid into the Treasury the value of the purchases in addition to the stiff penalty for the smuggling attempt. She left New York for Hollywood a much wiser young woman, although she would never feel moved to voice any praise for the Customs Bureau and its employees.
The case of the Hollywood actress is only one minor example of why the Bureau requires that travellers’ luggage be examined upon arrival in the United States. Each year roughly 150 million persons and 43 million vehicles cross and recross the borders. Among those millions are cheats, smugglers and conspirators seeking to evade the payment of duties on imports or trying to bring contraband into the country.
Baggage examinations have been made since the Republic was in its infancy. The system has been continued simply because no one yet has devised a better way to protect the Treasury from those who seek to avoid the payment of legitimate duties. The system remains much the same as it was in the days of George Washington—and without doubt just as annoying to travellers.