For thousands of people without papers in the United States, the knock at the door is here. INS has launched its campaign to deport close to 100,000 undocumented people. Already, there are clear signs of social and psychological disruptions, especially among children. PNS correspondent Samuel Orozco is a Kaiser media fellow and news director of Radio Bilingue, a Spanish language radio station based in Fresno, CA. Radio Bilingue has maintained an open phone line for callers to report on their experiences since the 1995 immigration law was passed.

WIMAUMA, FLORIDA -- "The town was quiet and all of a sudden they came in helicopters, police cars, and on foot. They were from the Border Patrol and the Highway Patrol," says Cayetano Moreno, pointing toward a dilapidated trailer "park." "They took away busloads of people."

For thousands of people across the country without official documents, the knock on the door is here as the government begins its full-scale national campaign to apply the Antiterrorist and Illegal Immigration Reform Laws of 1996. That same week, in Mattawa, Washington, officers arrested immigrants inside their homes, separating children from their parents. Soon after, in Raymondville, Texas, the Border Patrol conducted a door-to-door search capturing some 300 undocumented people.

The new legislation increases the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) budget by some 20%, which should double the number of agents and inspectors and provide new equipment so the agency can deport at least 93,000 undocumented migrants in this fiscal year. Bryan Jordan, INS spokesperson in Washington, DC, says he is counting on help from state and city police. "In the eyes of Congress," he said, "these illegals are unjustly taking the jobs of domestic workers and taking advantage of the benefits of public welfare."

Backers of last year 's law argue that spending tax money to expel immigrants is a good investment, as it will actually allow the states with the largest immigrant population to save money now allocated to various benefit programs.

Economists may continue to debate the validity of that position, but the human costs are already clear. Every raid, every highway chase, leaves an imprint of fear and instability.

"It's like living in a state of war," says psychologist Concha Saucedo-Martinez, executive director of the Instituto Familiar de la Raza in San Francisco. "It's the same trauma. The effects will be seen in depression, in psychotic states, because of the terror."

In Wimauma, Jorge, a migrant from Guatemala, standing just steps away from the woods where he slept for three nights, says, "I feel like a fugitive, knowing that I may have to run at any minute. "

His neighbor Erendira says she did not walk her children to school or go out for groceries for three days. "I have a little child with asthma, and they had to bring me the medicine. What will happen to my children if they arrest me? The children were born here and are used to being here, and I don't know what will happen in Mexico."

For Jordan of the INS, "That's the price they have to pay when they enter this country illegally."

Often, those who pay the price are children. Ninfa Martinez, a social worker with the Redlands Christian Migrant Association in Wimauma, knew something was seriously wrong when half the class did not show up for school. "They lost three days -- and almost all of those children are citizens." Martinez spent a day visiting homes, but only those with green cards were willing to meet with her. Those without papers were hiding in the woods.

People like Ninfa appear to be few and far between in Florida's fields. "As far as I can remember, there have never been psychologists around," says Don Everardo Cortez, a retired farmworker and adviser to a rural clinic. There is stress, he admits, but he thinks that is a small price to pay. "We're happy if we can at least get treated for the flu and when the children run fevers," he says.

In contrast, the city and county of San Francisco have established a "safety zone" for migrants. In open opposition to state and federal policies, their resolution declares police and public officials must treat "all persons equally, regardless of immigration status." The move came partly in response to testimony from Dr. Saucedo and others suggesting that the trauma of raids and fear of raids have led to crises which are difficult and expensive to treat.

In the meantime, in Wimauma, there are no calm days. Cayetano, Erendira and their neighbors brace for INS raids just as they do for the inevitable hurricanes. But there are no safe evacuation routes from a raid -- only the woods and fields. At night, their sleep is disturbed by car lights or rumblings. "Our work is our pride," says one farmworker. "No one beats us there."