The private company that operates a community of homes near Tyndall Air Force Base recently instructed residents to remove their Yuletide decorations and refrain from putting them back up until after Turkey Day.

“All holiday decorations should be reflective in their respective months and not any sooner than 30 days before the given holiday,” the landlord said in the message.

Air Force Capt. Justin Davidson-Beebe, a Tyndall spokesman, said Wednesday that the landlord, Balfour Beatty Communities, had set the policy. The operations manager for the company’s Tyndall AFB Homes didn’t respond to an emailed inquiry.

“They are enforcing the community standards outlined in the legally binding lease agreement all residents voluntarily sign,” Davidson-Beebe said in an email. “These guidelines are not part of a broader Air Force policy. Since community standards are set by the privatized housing management company at some installations, standards may vary from base to base.”

The 59-page community handbook for Tyndall AFB Homes explicitly states that winter decorations and lights are only allowed from the week after Thanksgiving through New Year’s Day, and that lights can only be lit from 6 p.m. to 11 p.m.

“Do not keep them lit all night or in daylight hours,” the handbook says. “They must be removed no later than the third week of January; they may not remain on the exterior year-round.”

The base located outside Panama City in Florida’s Panhandle is home to the 325th Fighter Wing. The base suffered catastrophic damage in 2018 from Hurricane Michael, a Category 5 storm. The estimated cost to rebuild the base was $4.7 billion.

Her mother, Alejandra Juarez, was finally leaving for Mexico, rather than be sent off in handcuffs, after exhausting all her options to stop her deportation.

“My mom is a good person. She’s not a criminal,” Pamela said, cursing at the immigration agency before her mother checked in for her flight from Orlando International Airport.

Alejandra and former Marine Sgt. Cuauhtemoc “Temo” Juarez, a naturalized citizen who runs a roofing business, quietly raised Pamela and their 9-year-old daughter Estela in the central Florida town of Davenport until a 2013 traffic stop exposed her legal status.

Afterward, she regularly checked in with U.S. Immigration and Customs officials, which typically went after higher-priority targets like people with criminal records.

Temo didn’t figure his vote for President Donald Trump would affect them personally. That was before the enforcement of Trump’s “zero tolerance” policy toward illegal immigrants.

Now, the Juarez family will be divided in two: Estela will join her mother in Mexico after she gets settled, while Temo cares for Pamela and pays the bills.

Alejandra petitioned to become a citizen in 2001, but was rejected because she was accused of making a false statement at the border when she sought asylum in 1998, said her attorney, Richard Maney. He said she was asked about her citizenship and told authorities she had been a student in Memphis, Tennessee for a short time, so border officials apparently thought she was falsely claiming to be an American citizen.

U.S. Rep. Darren Soto, D-Fla., who couldn’t get the votes in Congress for legislation to allow Juarez to remain, called her situation disgraceful.

“We’re not going to give up,” he told her with a hug at the airport.

“It’s an absolute disgrace by the Trump administration to be deporting a patriotic spouse,” Soto said. “Her husband, Temo, served in the Marines … while she was at home on the home-front, raising two young women. What justice does this serve?”

Alejandra ultimately decided to “self-deport” to Mexico, rather than turn herself in to be detained and then deported. After 20 years in the United States, she no longer has family or friends in the country, so she chose Merida, a city in the Yucatan where a small community of deported military spouses might help her.

Emotionally spent, she wiped her own tears behind sunglasses and stroked Pamela’s hair while gripping Estela, who stood by her side. Temo said he preferred not to talk before they were all escorted through security for their final goodbyes.

A reporter asked what she would say to the president. Alejandra said she’d ask how Trump could let this happen, since he “always says he loves the military and he’s doing everything for the military.”

“My husband fought for this country three times. The administration, yourself, you think you are punishing me. You’re not just punishing me,” she said, referring to her family. “I hope this make him happy. Perhaps we will forgive him.”

“I’m happy but at the same I’m concerned with, is someone going to pull me out and tell me, ‘You can’t participate again,'” said the former Iraqi translator for U.S. troops, minutes before he took his citizenship oath.

That’s what happened last year to Al Anbki, who’s also member of the Florida National Guard. But everything went smoothly at his ceremony Tuesday in Orlando, Florida. He recited the Pledge of Allegiance, said the oath of citizenship and sang along to Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA.”

He was a citizen at last.

“It’s a dream becoming true,” Al Anbki said after the ceremony, holding up an American flag. “After the long fight, after all these years, that flag is still standing. Going to keep it up.”

Al Anbki, who had been shot and stabbed during his nine-year service as a translator for U.S. troops in Iraq, was at a June 2017 naturalization ceremony in Fort Benning, Georgia, for 20 immigrant recruits when he was stopped and told he wouldn’t be participating. No explanation was given other than “there was a problem in the system,” according to a lawsuit he filed last month in the District of Columbia.

The 36-year-old Al Anbki said in the lawsuit that the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services should have completed his citizenship application but instead applied a different set of rules under a program known as the Controlled Application Review and Resolution Program, which opponents say targets applicants from majority-Muslim countries.

The once-secret program is also being challenged in federal court in Seattle by the American Civil Liberties Union and the Northwest Immigrant Rights Project. Their class-action lawsuit claims the government since 2008 has blacklisted thousands of applications for asylum, legal permanent residency or citizenship as national security concerns.

After stories about Al Anbki’s situation were published by the Tampa Bay Times and The Associated Press, he was notified he would be able to participate in Tuesday’s naturalization ceremony.

Afterward, he was planning to register to vote, celebrate with a nice dinner with his grade-school age sons and girlfriend and start writing a book about his life that he wants to call, “How to be an American.”

“When you stand here, in this room, and say, ‘I’m an American,’ in front of other people, that’s a great feeling,” Al Anbki said. “You can’t explain it. It’s more than a victory. You feel like America hugged you and this land gave you real love.”

Haeder Al Anbki said Monday he was notified over the weekend that he could participate in a naturalization ceremony next week in Orlando. Al Anbki had sued a federal agency over the matter. He was given no explanation for the government’s reversal in his case, but he credited stories by The Associated Press and The Tampa Bay Times with publicizing his plight.

“The articles and it’s out in the public … made the changes and it’s opening many eyes to see the truth,” Al Anbki said Monday in text message from Camp Blanding in Jacksonville, where he was training with his Florida National Guard unit.

The Iraqi native was at a June 2017 naturalization ceremony in Fort Benning, Georgia, for 20 immigrant recruits when he was stopped and told he wouldn’t be participating. No explanation was given other than “there was a problem in the system,” according to a lawsuit he filed last month in the District of Columbia.

Al Anbki, 36, said in the lawsuit that the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services was obligated to complete his citizenship application but instead was applying a different set of rules under a program known as the Controlled Application Review and Resolution Program, which opponents say targets applicants from majority-Muslim countries.

The once-secret program also is being challenged in federal court in Seattle by the American Civil Liberties Union and the Northwest Immigrant Rights Project. Their class-action lawsuit claims the government since 2008 has blacklisted thousands of applications for asylum, legal permanent residency or citizenship as national security concerns. The case goes to trial next year.

An agency spokeswoman said in an email on Monday that privacy restrictions prevent her from talking about specific cases.

Al Anbki, who works as a security guard at Orlando International Airport, came to the United States in 2011 after working with U.S. troops in Iraq for nine years as an interpreter, a job that allowed him to get a special immigration visa. During his service with the troops, he was stabbed by an insurgent and shot in the leg. He lost a toe on his left foot from shrapnel. His brother, also a translator for U.S. troops, was killed.

The former interpreter for U.S. forces in Iraq, who had been shot and stabbed during his service, was at a June 2017 naturalization ceremony in Fort Benning, Georgia, for 20 immigrant recruits when he was stopped and told he wouldn’t be participating. No explanation was given other than “there was a problem in the system,” according to a lawsuit he filed last month in the District of Columbia.

The 36-year-old Al Anbki says in the lawsuit that the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services was obligated to complete his citizenship application but instead was applying a different set of rules under a program known as the Controlled Application Review and Resolution Program, which opponents say targets applicants from majority-Muslim countries.

“Everybody was looking at me and they were like, ‘What’s going on?'” Al Anbki said Wednesday in a telephone interview from Camp Blanding in Jacksonville, where he was training with his Florida National Guard unit. “It was frustrating for me. Like, why? Of the 20 soldiers there, I’m the only one who got held.”

Al Anbki, who lives in Orlando, Florida, came to the United States in 2011 after working with U.S. troops in Iraq for nine years as an interpreter, a job that allowed him to get a special immigration visa. During his service with the troops, he was stabbed by an insurgent and shot in the leg. He lost a toe on his left foot from shrapnel. His brother, also a translator for U.S. troops, was killed.

CARRP, as the program is known, started in the final year of President George W. Bush’s administration. It’s “an internal policy that has neither been approved by Congress nor subjected to public notice and comment,” according to Al Anbki’s lawsuit.

The once-secret program is also being challenged in federal court in Seattle by the American Civil Liberties Union and the Northwest Immigrant Rights Project. Their class-action lawsuit claims the government since 2008 has blacklisted thousands of applications for asylum, legal permanent residency or citizenship as national security concerns. The case goes to trial next year.

An agency spokeswoman said in a statement that privacy restrictions prevent her from talking about specific cases.

“USCIS adjudicates all naturalization applications fairly, efficiently, and effectively on a case-by-case basis to determine if they meet all standards required under the law,” the statement said.

The statement said “some applications take longer than others to process,” and that applicants are notified of a final decision. However, opponents say what really happens is the applications often are delayed indefinitely.

Other lawsuits around the country have challenged the program, but they were dismissed because immigration authorities quickly ruled on the plaintiffs’ applications once the complaints were filed, erasing the legal grounds on which they sued.

Besides his National Guard work, Al Anbki is employed as a security guard at Orlando International Airport while raising two grade-school-aged boys as a single dad. He has passed multiple background checks from the visa, Guard participation and job, he said.

“This is no way to treat somebody who bled for his country,” Al Anbki said.

David Taylor Sr. told The Associated Press that his 25-year-old son, David Taylor, told only a high school friend about his plans to join the Kurdish group, and he swore his friend to secrecy. Taylor’s father said he didn’t even know of his son’s plans until after he had arrived in Syria and was training with the group known as YPG.

“I got an email and he said, ‘Pops, don’t worry. I’m with the YPG,’” David Taylor Sr. said in a telephone interview from his home in West Virginia. “He said, ‘I’m doing the right thing. It’s for their freedom.‘”

A Kurdish militia group released a video saying Taylor was killed on July 16. The U.S. State Department said in a statement that it was aware of reports of a U.S. citizen being killed while fighting in Syria but offered no further comment. Taylor Sr. said a U.S. consular chief from the Kurdistan Region in Iraq informed him of his son’s death.

Taylor’s high school friend emailed the father after he learned of the death. The friend said Taylor told him during a visit to St. Petersburg Beach, Florida, last February that Taylor believed the Islamic State group needed to be stopped.

“One night he got drunk and told me of the atrocities he had witnessed in the Middle East during his time in the Marine Corps,” the friend, Alex Cintron, wrote in an email to Taylor’s parents.

Taylor’s father shared the email with AP on Tuesday.

“He said to the effect that ‘Isis was the bane of modern existence and needed to be stopped before they destroy any more lives and priceless works of human achievement,‘” Cintron said in the email.

Cintron said in the email that Taylor died from an improvised explosive device. The YPG video offered no details on how Taylor died other than to say he “was martyred fighting ISIS’ barbarism.”

Taylor grew up in Ocala, Florida, located about 80 miles northwest of Orlando. He attended college in Florida and West Virginia before joining the Marines. He was deployed in Afghanistan, Japan, South Korea and spent time in Jordan before he was discharged last year, said David Taylor Sr.

After his discharge, he came to the United States and visited family and friends in West Virginia, Philadelphia and Florida.

Last spring, he asked his father to drive him to the airport because he had decided to visit Ireland, where his family has ancestral ties.

Taylor Sr. received periodic updates from his son about his travels in Europe until there was a period of silence for several weeks. Soon afterward, Taylor Sr. soon afterward received an email from his son, saying he had joined the Kurdish militia group.

“He loved his country. He loved democracy,” David Taylor Sr. said. “He had a mission, to go over there and advance democracy and freedom like we have it over here. It came at a horrible price.”

Matt Yee in Washington contributed to this report.