Alligator Alcatraz Is Coming: A Tent Prison in the Everglades for 5,000 People

FEMA funds—meant for hurricanes, fires, disaster response—are being rerouted to this spectacle. Cost? Around $450 m a year. Nearly half a billion dollars poured into tents surrounded by predators.

In the raw heart of the Everglades, on a long-abandoned airstrip surrounded by gators, pythons, and silence thicker than swamp air, Florida is erecting what officials are already calling Alligator Alcatraz. A sprawling tent city designed to detain thousands in real time.

On dusty trucks, we’ve watched generators roar in, and rows of heavy-duty canvas shelters unfurl across the grasslands—thanks to Logistics Events Corp. and US Tent Rental, rented into being on U.S. government mandate. The only reason we even know that is the investigative work of online sleuths and journalists.

Right now, the first thousand tents stand like ghost wards in the swamp; by early July, plans are calling for up to 5,000 beds—five thousand souls intended for isolation. The state says no fences are needed—just alligators, snakes, and exhaustion at the water’s edge. The site, constructed on the remote Dade-Collier Training and Transition Airport, includes large tents, surveillance systems, and mobile barracks.

Let that sink in. They plan to use the harshness of the natural landscape to keep people in an even harsher camp…

FEMA funds—meant for hurricanes, fires, disaster response—are being rerouted to this spectacle. Cost? Around $450 million a year. Nearly half a billion dollars poured into tents surrounded by predators, while flooding and fires blaze elsewhere, unaddressed.

Let me say that again. FEMA FUNDS ARE BEING USED TO BUILD ALLIGATOR ALCATRAZ!

Since taking office, Trump has repeatedly denied federal disaster aid to states—often even to those that supported him politically. In North Carolina, his administration refused to extend 100% federal cost-share funding for debris cleanup after Hurricane Helene, pushing an estimated $200 million in recovery costs onto the state.

Washington State was denied twice for disaster relief after a bomb cyclone, despite bipartisan pleas. Arkansas, under Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders, saw key tornado recovery requests rejected—only partially reversed after public pressure. In total, since February, FEMA under Trump has denied disaster requests from at least seven states, including Kentucky, West Virginia, and North Carolina.

These decisions weren’t based on a lack of need—they reflect a pattern of defunding federal emergency support. And now, FEMA dollars are being redirected toward projects like the tent-based “Alligator Alcatraz” detention facility in Florida, even as American communities still reel from natural disasters with no help in sight.

Also, lets be clear —this is no campsite—it’s a calculated message. That to flee is to die. To cross is to be corralled. To try is to be detained. A human cage stitched into the wetlands, visible proof that some lives belong in the swamp.

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A Threat to Land & Life

Ask the Everglades: pollution, sewage, light… it’s all invading a fragile ecosystem that took decades and billions to save. This land—once on the brink of a monstrous jetport—is sacred to the Miccosukee people, a nexus of ancient water and culture. The same preserve that halted highways and airports now bears tents and tainted wells.

When Miami-Dade’s mayor demanded environmental review, she warned: this isn’t a landfill—they’re paving over restoration efforts with temporary walls. Collier County officials, too, fear the hurricane season’s storms may flood tents into catastrophe.

This isn’t abstract. These people are asylum seekers, desperate parents, frightened travelers. Many are fleeing violence. Many are seeking refuge. Instead, they are being met with tents in the swamp.

And there is no accountability—no oversight, no medical infrastructure, no dignity. Just the unblinking threat of wildlife and sun-baked canvas.

We don’t have to look far for alternatives: crisis responder teams, medical workers, humane temporary shelter in towns—not swamps. We can demand rigorous environmental studies, insist on funding mental health, not muddy cages. We can refuse to cage people in the hunt for political theater.

Look at the lines of tents—each as a person, each a story interrupted. Scratch that, because we know each tent will have more than one person — often more people than they should.

Call your county leaders. Ask why this money isn’t feeding families or fighting environmental collapse. Ask why we’ve turned sacred wetlands into walls. Ask where the oversight is. Demand that light and cameras don’t become excuses for cruelty.

Read my full article on the Black Wall Street Times.

This is Alligator Alcatraz. This is state-sponsored intimidation draped in Florida sunshine. But we are here to remember: wetlands weren’t made for cages. People weren’t made for fear. And freedom wasn’t meant to be measured by the size of your tent.

If you’re in Florida—or care about human dignity—hit reply. I’m working with groups of influencers and reporters to build lines to local activists, environmental lawyers, and community funding circles.

This moment was meant to be silent. We won’t let it.

Dream Big. Act Bigger.