It's amazing to witness the lengths that people will avoid having to orally answer a ten minute questionnaire. One house I went to, I saw lights on in the second floor, a TV playing Jurassic Park 2 through the semi-frosted window on the door, and when I rang the doorbell a little girl's voice asked "Who is it?"
"Census Bureau!" I replied. Immediately there was a flash of movement while the child was picked up, the television was shut off, and then the lights upstairs blinked off as well a scant second later. I shrug and leave a notice with my phone number on it (that no one ever calls) like if they weren't home. I went back to my car to organize and do a bit of paperwork, and I saw the door open and a man pick up the notice five minutes after I sat down in my car. He looked at me, a look of terror on his face and nearly slammed the door as I got out of my car and waved hi, but opted to just sheepishly complete the interview.
This would be an understandable reaction for a hispanic household. I could really be immigration. But how I am able to induce such horror into the hearts of an all white family with an accent fresh from Alabama, I'm not sure.