The Everglades Jetport Reimagined

What once sounded like satire has quickly become reality. Alligator Alcatraz is operational. But now that it exists, we must ask a much larger question: What comes next? Because this isn't just about one facility or even about detaining undocumented immigrants in remote areas. It's about precedent. It's about development creep. It's about the future of South Florida’s most fragile and vital ecosystems.

Alligator Alcatraz wasn’t built in isolation. It was built on the bones of a failed dream: the Everglades Jetport. Conceived in the 1960s as a grand international gateway for supersonic travel, the project was mostly abandoned after environmental outcry. Only one runway was ever constructed. The project also envisioned high-speed rail service as part of its overall vision to become the “travel hub of the future.” The surrounding wilderness, by some miracle, was spared from becoming a sprawling concrete transportation hub.

Until now.

Opposition wasn’t the only reason the Jetport was never finished. Supersonic travel didn’t take off as expected. The only supersonic plane to go into service was the Concorde, and it wasn’t as successful as industry experts predicted. As much as we like to believe in our wins, sometimes it just comes down to luck. If there is any lesson we can learn from recent events, it is that the government will overcome any obstacle.

The logic that justified the detention center can just as easily support the next phase. Why not reimagine the Jetport once more? After all, Brightline is operating and expanding quickly. Supersonic travel is back in the discussion and under development. With the idea of reviving the Jetport, a new train station in Stuart seems inevitable. And if the Jetport gets a second chance, so will the infrastructure that once threatened to turn the Everglades into ribbons of concrete and steel.

Imagine railroad tracks across the Everglades. Highways snaking in from every direction. Terminals, hotels, and gas stations will rise where wetlands, cypress forests, and slow-moving water once dominated. If the Disneyesque vision of South Florida becomes a reality, the Everglades would lose its identity, sacrificed bit by bit under the banner of “repurposing” and “smart growth.”

It starts small. A detention center. Then maybe an immigration court. Then transportation to and from the site. Security stations. Road improvements. A Brightline stop. And soon, we’ve walked straight back into the 1960s master plan to urbanize the Everglades.

What’s being presented as a standalone solution to a national problem could turn into a Trojan horse for unchecked development. The question isn’t whether the detention center is necessary; it’s what kind of future are we creating?

Every time we make room for a “temporary” solution, we pave the way for permanent consequences.

South Florida cannot afford to sleep through this. Residents, conservationists, and planners must recognize that Alligator Alcatraz is not the end of the story; it’s the beginning of a new chapter. And without resistance, it could be the first domino in a long-forgotten plan to build a mega-region on top of a natural wonder.

If we care about the future of Florida, our water, our wildlife, and our open spaces, we must speak up now. Because once the tracks are laid and the roads are paved, there’s no turning back.