Michael Brewster

I arrived in the United States in June 1989 on a J1 visa, a young 20-year-old looking for opportunity. I initially worked at Bally’s Park Place, a casino in Atlantic City, where I secured a social security number, a driver’s license, and a casino ID—critical documents for anyone wanting to build a life in the U.S.

I was supposed to return to Ireland in October 1989, but I overstayed my visa. Like many others in my situation, I kept my head down, worked hard, and waited for an opportunity to legalize my status. That chance came in 1991 when the Morrison Visa program opened up. I was living with ten other Irish immigrants in a cramped three-bedroom house in Atlantic City, all of us eager to take our shot.

“At the time, the system allowed multiple applications, so we took full advantage. Working at Kinko’s, I had access to printing services, and we turned our house into a visa application factory.”

We sent in thousands of applications—licking envelopes, stamping return addresses, and stuffing forms in the hopes that one would stick. When the submission window opened, we drove to Alexandria, Virginia, where the applications needed to be mailed. The post office was absolute chaos—huge industrial bins overflowing with envelopes from hopeful applicants worldwide. We stuffed as many as we could, then drove around Washington, D.C., dropping applications into every post box we could find.

Months later, the nervous wait paid off. A phone call to an automated service confirmed that I had been selected. It was October 1991. In Easter of 1992, after three years in the U.S., I returned to Ireland briefly to process my visa and finally became a legal resident.

Life in Ireland at the time was bleak—20% unemployment, no clear career prospects, and a mass exodus of young people seeking opportunity abroad. I had completed three years of business studies at Athlone RTC (now TUS), but the reality was that even with a degree, jobs were scarce. Staying in Ireland didn’t seem like an option, so I chose America.

Once I was legal, I focused on finishing my degree. so I transferred my college credits to Thomas Edison State University in New Jersey. Through a combination of correspondence courses and local college classes, I completed my management finance degree while working full-time. My schedule was brutal—working the night shift from 11 PM to 7 AM, attending classes in the morning, and squeezing in sleep whenever I could. But America rewards those who hustle, and I was determined to make it work.

“My big break came in 1992 when a close friend helped me land a spot in the training program at Lehman Brothers. It was a life-changing opportunity.”

The U.S. operates as a true meritocracy—no one cared where I went to college or where I came from; they cared if I could do the job. That mentality allowed me to thrive. I worked alongside people from all over the world, and talent was the only thing that mattered.

Over the years, I’ve had some surreal moments. One that stands out was working for Lehman Brothers during the week while moonlighting as a horse-and-carriage driver in Central Park on weekends to make ends meet. In Ireland, I would have been too embarrassed to take on such an odd job, but in America, I saw the bigger picture. It was about surviving, hustling, and building a future.

Another defining moment was when I first set foot in the halls of Lehman Brothers. Coming from a small town in Ireland, the sheer scale and energy of a Wall Street firm were overwhelming. It was a world of fast-paced decision-making, high-pressure situations, and limitless opportunity. I thrived in that environment because I had spent years learning how to hustle, adapt, and push forward, regardless of the challenges ahead.

Despite my success, it wasn’t always easy. The biggest challenge was adjusting to a culture where everything moved at breakneck speed. Unlike Ireland, where stability and long-term security were valued, the U.S. demanded constant reinvention and adaptability. There was no safety net, and every failure was a lesson to be learned quickly.

The Morrison Visa changed everything. It took me from being undocumented to having a real shot at success. It gave me the security to build a career, buy a home, and contribute to my community. Looking back, I know how lucky I was, but I also know how much I worked to make the most of it.

“The Morrison Visa wasn’t just an immigration policy—it was a lifeline. It gave thousands of Irish people a legal path to stay in the U.S. and build a future.”

Today, as immigration policies become more restrictive, I believe programs like it should be revived. There are ambitious, hardworking people out there who just need the chance I was given.

As the program marks its 30th anniversary, I hope we continue to push for legal pathways for future generations. The legacy of the Morrison Visa isn’t just in the people it helped, but in the contributions we’ve made to America in return.