Crowd of Protesters
A large, diverse crowd estimated at 280 people turned out for an Aug. 17 prayer vigil at Alligator Alcatraz, the detention center erected in the Everglades. (Photo courtesy of Rev. Andy Oliver)
UPDATE Aug. 22, 2025: Judge orders Alligator Alcatraz shut down within 60 days for environmental violations.
Florida Annual Conference | August 18, 2025
About 90 minutes east of Naples and 45 miles from downtown Miami, deep in the Everglades along U.S. 41, is the detention center known derisively as Alligator Alcatraz.
It was built on an abandoned runway that, decades ago, was intended to be a new jetport. Some of the inmates, mostly undocumented immigrants, are housed in cages, while others are in tents.
There are complaints about broken toilets, flooded cages, backed-up sewage, and maggot-laced, moldy food. The August heat and humidity are oppressive, and swarms of mosquitoes are everywhere as the state heads toward the peak of hurricane season.
Florida Attorney General James Uthmeier, who coined the term "Alligator Alcatraz," has said that the center, surrounded by alligators, poisonous snakes, and other creatures, will discourage escapes.
President Trump visited the center shortly after it opened in June. When asked if the idea was for detainees to get eaten by alligators if they try to escape, he replied, "I guess that's the concept."
"Snakes are fast but alligators — we're going to teach them how to run away from an alligator. Don't run in a straight line, run like this," he said, waving his hands in a zigzag. "You know what, your chances go up about one percent."
Critics say that’s proof the state wanted to create as intimidating and hostile an environment as possible.
The way Rev. Roy Terry sees it, Alligator Alcatraz is a call to action for not just United Methodists, but persons of all faiths.
“It is a moral crisis,” he said.
Rev. Terry’s response was to join with other faith leaders and leaders of the Florida Miccosukee Tribe of Indians in a statewide protest and weekly prayer vigil at the center.
On Sunday afternoon, he joined members from three Tampa Bay area churches – Allendale UMC in St. Petersburg, First UMC of Pinellas Park, and Hyde Park UMC in Tampa -- and many others in the vigil at the gated entrance to the center that was filled with diverse people united by a yearning for social justice.
“There were voices that were Jewish, Muslim, Christian, and people of no faith,” Rev. Andy Oliver of Allendale UMC said. “There was a beautiful poem that was read there.”
There were 280 people in attendance.
“It was a grounding experience. You hear about it on the news and see it on social media, but to hear people on the bus as we were pulling out, saying they couldn't believe it was actually real,” Rev. Brittany Leclair of First UMC of Pinellas Park said.
“To experience that firsthand and have our feet in the soil of the Everglades was something I will never forget.”
The forecast called for severe weather, lightning, and hail, but the area around the detention facility was spared. There was actually a cooling breeze.
“The mosquitoes were definitely prevalent, and there was some mud on the ground from prior days' rain, I'm sure,” Rev. Leclair said.
“But overall, the weather held out for us. At one point, it was kind of funny. We had a speaker who was speaking, and the thunder clapped pretty loud, and we all chanted, you know, knowing that the voice of God was there with us.”
“God was in our midst. I think God was in the words of the poet and in the tears of the young woman who came here,” Rev. Vicki Walker said. “She's going to tell the other college students she works with about this.
“I think God was in the voices that were raised and the tears that were shed, and the hearts that were united. And I think that God led us, God guided us. God continues to tell us that that's our neighbor, that's Jesus behind the bars. That's Jesus not being treated justly. We're committed to love."
A Regional Approach
As the project came together, Rev. Terry and the others involved decided to break the state into regions.
“Each of those regions has taken a particular week, and we have the weeks already scheduled through August. Now, we're working to have September covered, because we would like that vigil to be held consistently every Sunday,” Rev. Terry said.
The first vigil occurred at 5 p.m. on August 3, with about 70 participants.
Among those was Betty Osceola, a leader of the Miccosukee Tribe and part of the Everglades Advisory Board. She helps with the weekly set-up, provides a speaker system, and does a live stream each week.
“It’s a place where we come for healing, where we come to pray,” she told NBC News.
Her chickee village is within walking distance of the detention site. A chickee is a traditional dwelling built by the Seminole and Miccosukee tribes. These structures are designed for open-air living, providing shade and ventilation in the harsh Everglades climate.
Miami-Dade County owns the site where the center is built, but the facility is adjacent to land that the tribe leases, including villages, a school, traditional hunting areas, and sacred sites
“This is sacred land to the Tribe,” Rev. Terry said.
Gov. Ron DeSantis seized the land from Miami-Dade after declaring an emergency order in 2023 to deal with a large number of Cuban and Haitian migrants who began arriving by boat in the Florida Keys.
The land grab caught local officials by surprise, and the plan to build the detention facility was largely shrouded in secrecy until construction began. It went from concept to camp in just eight days.
Prayer vigil participants stay outside the main entrance to the facility. A state trooper stands at the gate.
It’s about 300 yards from the gate to the actual detention area, so participants don’t get to see the actual places where prisoners are held.
“We did receive word recently that the Roman Catholic Diocese of Miami had petitioned the Governor to grant faith-based access, and they were given access,” Rev. Terry said.
“So the Roman Catholic Church does have permission to go in, but we can't get in. One of our biggest issues around the center is that there's no transparency.”
There were complaints early that even attorneys had trouble gaining access to their clients. That is slowly changing, and Rev. Terry believes that is because of protests by churches throughout the state.
Meanwhile, the harsh conditions persist. The site is living up to its name. Rev. Terry said he hasn’t seen alligators or snakes while he has been there, but he knows they’re present.
“I hear them all the time when I'm out there. A lot of folks might not know what they sound like, but they're croaking all the time,” he said.
“They sound like a giant bullfrog, but those are bull gators. The area that is actually directly across from the detention center.”
Rev. Leclair said the experience will stay with her forever.
“I'm taking away the importance of community and standing together in solidarity,” she said.
“Despite all of the differences of people that gathered there, we're all together for human dignity and naming the evil that's taking place as people are being caged and treated inhumanely.”
Inside “Alligator Alcatraz”: Deplorable, Inhumane Conditions Spark Outcries throughout Florida
Joe Henderson is News Content Editor for the Florida Annual Conference of The United Methodist Church

