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It started with a threatening phone call.

Ali Tamimi was warned to stop working for the Americans. He dismissed it, thinking it was his friend playing a joke. But his friend received a similar phone call.

Then Tamimi found a note on the windshield of his car. It had a verse from the Quran, and warned him again: Stop working for the Americans. Tamimi showed it to his boss at the American construction company where he worked inside the Green Zone, an area housing U.S. soldiers. His boss told him to be careful. Alter his route to work. Stay overnight with friends or family on occasion. But in Iraq, someone is always watching.

One morning, an explosion outside shook the house. At first, Tamimi could see only smoke and flames. Then he realized his car had been bombed.

That's when he knew for sure.

The Tamimis had to leave Iraq.

The Tamimis -- Ali, wife Fatma and their children Roz, Husain and Montather -- arrived in High Point last December as refugees.

International refugee organizations report a humanitarian crisis in Iraq, with millions forced to flee persecution because they practice a disfavored religion, were born into a marginalized minority or agreed to work in support of the U.S. government. Those who stay live in fear, and many starve because they can't find work.

When the Tamimis left Iraq, they couldn't even trust their neighbors.

It was not uncommon for innocent people to be shot without reason by a passer-by. Government officials could seize your house or force you into military service at any time.

These days, the Tamimis do have a neighbor they can trust -- an American whose help and generosity eases their transition.

Kathy Pearce was drawn to the Tamimis because her son, Army Capt. Kris Mills, was stationed in Iraq for a year. Pearce says she's grateful to any Iraqi who assisted American soldiers.

She met the Tamimis' tiny, dark-haired daughter, Roz (pronounced Rose). Pearce, who has traveled to Mexico, thought Roz was Mexican and tried to speak to her in Spanish. The two bonded because both have brothers with developmental disabilities.

Pearce cares for her youngest brother, Jimmy Carter, who has Down syndrome, obsessive-compulsive disorder and mental retardation.

Although Roz, 12, is the middle child, she often acts as an older sister to both her 9-year-old brother Montather and 15-year-old Husain, who is autistic.

The more Pearce learns about the Tamimis, the more she wants to help them. As newcomers, they struggle to navigate their lives in America. They often receive mail they cannot read or understand. With just Ali Tamimi working, they worry about money. And without a car, the entire family relies on others for transportation.

That's where Pearce steps in. She helps them decipher their mail. She takes Fatma Tamimi to the store. When Roz and Montather miss the bus, she drives them to school. This summer, she even delayed her own out-of-town vacation to help when Fatma gave birth to the newest addition to their family, son Yaser.

Their needs sometimes overwhelm Pearce, who juggles her own job and family duties. But if she didn't help the Tamimis, what would they do?

Ali Tamimi started working at Marsh Furniture Company within a couple of months of coming to High Point.

He rides a bike about three miles each way, leaving at 6 a.m. to be there on time. He carries his lunch wrapped in a plastic bag tied to the handlebars. He doesn't wear a bike helmet. Some may consider this an unsafe practice. But consider where the Tamimis came from. Ali Tamimi no longer worries that he will be shot on his way to work or that his family could be harmed because of how he makes his living.

In Iraq, his job in the American-occupied Green Zone paid him three times more than his previous jobs. But he risked his life.

Tamimi left for work at 4:30 a.m. to avoid being seen. He didn't even turn on the headlights as he drove out of his neighborhood. His excuse for being out so early was that he was going to wait in line for fuel. The children were instructed to tell anyone asking that their father worked as a taxi driver.

The Tamimis would pray each day that he would get to the Green Zone and back home again safely. The journey from his doorstep to the Green Zone could take hours because of road bombs or American or Iraqi Army checkpoints.

At home, Fatma Tamimi worried until he called, letting her know he'd gotten safely inside. There were times, however, when she waited several hours for his call because of roadblocks or because phone signals were interrupted by explosions.

They could relax only when he arrived safely at work or safely back home.

Iraq wasn't always like this.

Ali and Fatma Tamimi's parents started their families in the 1970s, known as the "golden era of Iraq."

It was a time when smart, principled men such as Fatma Tamimi's father could succeed on their own merit and work ethic. Though orphaned and poor as a child, her father became a successful bank director in Baghdad.

Ali Tamimi's father was a foreman for a Brazilian construction company. Ali Tamimi, one of 12 children, says his father worked hard so they could own their own home.

Fatma Tamimi was one of 10 children. It was not uncommon for families to have 10 or more children at the time because the government awarded money to parents for each child they had.

Food was inexpensive, and medical care was free. People were eager to help each other, no matter the time of day or night. They could trust each other.

That all changed after the Gulf War.

When Iraq invaded Kuwait in 1990, the United Nations Security Council imposed economic sanctions against Iraq. The sanctions banned financial resources and all trade except for medical supplies, food and other humanitarian items.

When the Gulf War ended a year later, the sanctions were extended and expanded to include the removal of weapons of mass destruction.

Shortly after the sanctions, the Iraqi government rationed food, allowing each person just 1,000 calories per day -- 40 percent of the daily requirement. There also was a dramatic increase in child labor, which was nonexistent in the previous decade.

Rafid Kully, an Iraqi engineer who worked as a translator for the U.S. military, says people changed after this.

"People were starving, working 24 hours trying to survive, but they cannot. It was chaos," he says.

Between 2001 and 2003, Tamimi juggled as many as three jobs at one time to provide for his family. The economic climate of Iraq at that time was so unstable that many Iraqis left the country for better job prospects. Before the U.S. invaded Iraq in 2003, Tamimi occasionally worked in Jordan, where he could earn more money.

After their car was bombed, Tamimi returned to Jordan with his wife and children. They lived there a year until they were approved to resettle in the U.S. While there, Tamimi worked illegally as a painter.

Tamimi's work ethic and determination to support his family impressed Bob Pearce. That's why he doesn't mind that his wife devotes so much of her time to helping them. Pearce often helps the Tamimis when his wife can't.

"If they did nothing, I wouldn't help them," he says. "As it is, I can't see not helping them."

Kathy Pearce was struck by the relationship between Ali and Fatma Tamimi.

Before meeting the Tamimis, Pearce believed Iraqi men treated women poorly, based on her son's experiences and observations there. He told her he saw more female suicide bombers because their lives were considered more dispensable than a man's. She heard that Iraqi men weren't as respectful to women.

"I don't see that with Fatma and Ali," Pearce says.

Ali Tamimi often helps Fatma with the children. He calls his daughter "Rozie."

When Husain becomes nervous or agitated, he begins to cry or chew on his hands. It is often Ali who calms him best.

"Husain," he says gently and speaks to him calmly in Arabic.

He holds baby Yaser while Fatma fixes his bottle. He cared for Yaser so that Kathy Pearce could take Fatma shopping after he was born.

"He understands that she need to get out and get away, like any new mom. He's good with all of the children," Pearce says.

Roz and Montather don't swim well, but they love the pool at their apartment complex.

They beg their parents and "Mama Kathy" -- that's what they call Pearce -- to go to the pool with them constantly. From the pool's edge, Montather cartwheels into the water.

"Come and get me!" he screams to Roz, as he paddles furiously away from her.

Roz likes to see how long she can stay submerged.

Knowing their enthusiasm for the pool, Kathy Pearce promised them a day at Jamestown's City Lake Park, where there is a big water slide, to celebrate Husain's birthday. They told her they never had birthday parties because the war made it unsafe for people to visit each other.

"We're not real social people, but it still hit us how hard that must be," Kathy Pearce says.

Visitors to the Tamimis' home are offered a cup of hot chai tea, even when the temperature climbs to the upper 90s in the summer.

Fatma Tamimi serves the slightly sweetened tea. Husain hovers near his parents. Sometimes he shouts words or phrases in Arabic or English. Words such as "Pepsi" or "bird." Sometimes he shouts "Kathy!" or "Bob!"

He alerts his mother if she doesn't hear Yaser's cries. Sometimes he sits protectively over his sleeping baby brother. Husain goes to McIver Education Center, a school for students with developmental disabilities. There, he learned how to make his bed and straighten his room.

In Iraq, families sometimes ostracize children like Husain. Fatma Tamimi visited a school there for children with developmental disabilities and mental retardation. The children she saw were neglected and in poor condition. She believed he could be better cared for at home.

Roz and Montather's English improves daily. Their conversations with each other are a mixture of English that flows into Arabic, then back to English.

And then there's Yaser. He will likely grow up speaking English without an accent. Unlike his siblings, he'll have no memories of Iraq. And he could grow up drinking more Coke than chai tea. This doesn't bother his parents.

They have no desire to return to Iraq. The focus now is building a life in America for Husain, Roz, Montather and Yaser, the family's first American citizen.

The Pearces believe Yaser is destined to succeed.

"He can be the president," Bob Pearce says.

"Yes, we're starting to groom him for that," Kathy Pearce says.

Contact Tina Firesheets at 373-3498 or tina.firesheets@news-record.com

Diane Lamb and Rafid Kully contributed to this report.