Just weeks ago, the public was told the Everglades was “just swamp”—uninhabitable, undevelopable, and certainly not fit for building infrastructure. But in less than a month, that same swamp was transformed into a federally funded detention center now dubbed Alligator Alcatraz.
They turned that swamp into a prison—and bragged about it while doing it. Tents stretched across soaked earth, lined with cages. And yeah, they flooded within a week. Then came the food reports: moldy, worm-infested meals.
They’re selling merchandise. Conservative influencers were brought in to tour it, brag about it, and post photo ops.
But I’m done soft-pedaling. People are going to die there. This is no Alcatraz. It’s worse. It’s happening in a swamp without drainage, during Hurricane Season. They’re banking on storms hitting the facility—storms that will drown tents and drown accountability.
History will call this Alligator Auschwitz.
We first broke this story in late June—before it was trending, before most major outlets caught on. Before the press photos. Before the fencing. Before the cages. Before they brought in the people. This was planned. Coordinated. And funded—in part—by FEMA, the same agency Trump refused to deploy when natural disasters devastated blue states like North Carolina and Illinois. But suddenly, this swamp was worth building in. For this.
Let’s catch up.
By the time the White House made it official, construction was already days ahead—and so were we.
The reason we were ahead isn’t because we pay attention to CNN or the giants of media—it’s because we have a network of on-the-ground activists, leaders, organizers, and storytellers who help connect us in the moment these historic things are happening—not after. I’m proud of that.
Trump himself toured the site on July 1st. He called it “innovative,” posing like a developer inspecting beachfront property. By July 5th, the site began to flood. No drainage. No storm prep. Just tents in marshland—a marshland expected to see increasingly severe storms as fall approaches.
TIMELINE: Alligator Auschwitz – From Denial to Detainment
Late June 2025
Our initial reporting uncovered alleged contracts between DHS, Logistics Events Corp, and U.S. Tent Rental confirming the construction of a large-scale detention facility in the Everglades. Despite denials, the infrastructure was underway before public acknowledgment.
July 1, 2025
Trump visits the site personally, calling the project “innovative” and “smart use of space.” Photos show him posing next to drainage equipment that was never installed properly.
July 3–4, 2025
Federal records show the first rounds of detainees were transferred to the site under Title 42 expansions, mostly from Florida and Georgia ICE facilities.
July 5, 2025
The facility floods after a short storm. Reports confirm no elevation prep, drainage or waterproofing was done before tents were erected. Cages were submerged partially in water.
July 7–8, 2025
Orange County Corrections confirmed that "some" inmates had been transferred to the site (WESH 2 News). Eyewitnesses reported up to 400 detainees already housed in cages inside the compound.
July 9, 2025
Detainees began speaking out. One green card holder, Leamsy Izquierdo, described 24/7 lighting, extreme heat, standing water, mosquito swarms, lack of showers or basic hygiene, and “sandwiches full of rot” (Newsweek).
July 10, 2025
Florida lawmakers announce site visit amid bipartisan concern. Human rights groups, including ACLU Florida, demand investigation into the use of FEMA funds, which had previously been denied for natural disasters in blue states like North Carolina (Gulf Coast News).
July 11, 2025
Estimates put current detainee count between 400–600 people, including minors. News outlets including NBC South Florida, PBS, and The Guardian report systemic issues: inedible food, lack of AC, withheld medical care, and no legal visitation.
Within days, people were dropped off—migrants pulled from buses across state lines and quietly brought in. Some were separated from their legal representation. Some were minors.
Then came the food reports: rotting sandwiches, mold, worms, and inedible portions. Some detainees went over 24 hours without meals. Multiple outlets, including El País, Axios, and The Guardian, confirmed it. We now know people are being held in constant light—no separation between day and night. No AC. No medical staff. No footwear. At least five deaths have been reported in Florida’s broader detention system in 2024 alone.
This is not about border enforcement. It’s a political test—a show of force to see what the public will tolerate, or worse, celebrate.
They said it was temporary, but the contracts are multi-year. They said it was overflow, but the layout allows for 5,000 people. They said it was infrastructure—but there are cages inside. No matter how they dress it up, a prison is still a prison. And this is worse.
These will inevitably become death camps. I won’t downplay that. Not now. Not after it happens.
And they want to replicate it. Sites are already being scoped in Georgia, Texas, and Arizona. Same blueprint. Same silence.
Additional Findings
The Justice Innovation Lab raised alarms over multi-year contracts contradicting White House claims of temporary use.
Newsweek confirmed permanent residents with minor offenses are among the detained, raising serious due process issues.
DHS and ICE have not released population counts despite multiple FOIA requests.
El País and The Guardian are investigating reports of food poisoning and potential deaths since July 7.
We will keep documenting every piece—from budget trails to cages to conditions. But what matters most right now?
Don’t let this get normalized. Don’t let “temporary” become the lie they win with. Share what you know. Push local outlets to cover it. Ask your city if these contractors are active nearby. Back the organizers, lawyers, and families doing the real work.
Because no one should be left to rot in a tent on stolen land, behind razor wire, in a swamp they never chose.
And no one should be able to build that kind of cruelty—without consequence.
Dream Big. Act Bigger.
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I don’t wait for mainstream headlines to tell me where the story is—I talk to the people already on the ground.
If I could, I’d pack my gear and drive to Texas, New Mexico, California’s farms, and yes—Alligator Alcatraz. Whether it’s detention camps, environmental collapse, or communities left behind, I want to report directly — before the networks even know it’s happening.
But I also know I’m not the only voice that matters.
That’s why I don’t rely on grants or funding that should be going to Black, Indigenous, and frontline journalists. Substack subscribers help me stay independent and make space for others—not take it from them.
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