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Miami Herald
5 days ago
- Sport
- Miami Herald
How Fafa Picault overcame racism, adversity on road to Inter Miami, Haiti national team
Fabrice 'Fafa' Picault is known for his infectious smile and easy-going nature. But behind that happy face is a 34-year-old Haitian American whose journey from youth soccer player in Cutler Bay to Lionel Messi's teammate at Inter Miami has been anything but easy. It was long, circuitous, and arduous. He was spit on. He endured more racial slurs than he cares to discuss. He has bounced to 11 teams and four countries over his career. But he toils on, summoning strength and guidance from his 97-year-old grandfather, Henri Picault, a Haitian immigrant who drove a New York City taxi for more than 50 years before retiring four years ago; his father, Leslie, a former professional soccer player; and his mother, Lucerne, a lifelong educator. Every morning begins with a 7:15 a.m. wake-up call from his mother, and they pray together over the phone. 'My Mom is the first person I talk to every day,' Picault said. 'We pray before every training and before every game. I then talk to my Dad really quick, too, if he's up. They've always been available and around for me, so I'm blessed to have that.' That familial love and faith carried him through his most difficult moments. He remembers tearful four-hour family phone calls on Skype when things hit rock bottom. An honor student at Coral Reef Elementary and Southwood Middle School, Picault put academics on hold (much to his mother's dismay) and left Miami Killian High at age 16 to head to Italy and chase his soccer dream. He was invited to join Cagliari, Calcio's reserve team, on the island of Sardinia. Picault's maternal grandfather, Max Antoine, played for the Haitian national team. His father played for the Philadelphia Fever in the Major Indoor Soccer League. He was eager to follow in their footsteps. He fell in love with soccer while playing for youth clubs in West Kendall, Coral Springs and Weston, and with an academy team that was jointly run by Cagliari and local club, Strike Force. His father, with whom he trained from the moment he could kick a ball, supported his decision to go abroad. His mother took some convincing but eventually came around if he promised to keep above a 3.7 grade point average in his online schooling, which he did. 'Education is the sure way to go, but we took a chance because Fafa was very mature for his age, had a very special talent, and if he didn't do soccer now, when would he do it?'' Leslie Picault said. Spending the first eight years of his life in New York, and the next eight in Miami, he embraced his multi-cultural upbringing and never had any trouble blending into any group. He spoke four languages fluently – English, Creole, French and Spanish, and was excited by the idea of adding Italian to his list. But he was unprepared for the racism he encountered. 'Being the only black player there, I faced a lot of problems,' Picault said upon returning to the United States in 2012 to play for the Tampa Bay Rowdies and then the Fort Lauderdale Strikers. 'I could probably write a book. My second week, a teammate spat in my face. Other guys called me a black piece of this or that. There were lots of racial slurs. Even one of my coaches voiced his opinion of blacks openly, saying stuff to me like, 'This is not the jungle of Africa.' It was rough because I was trying to break in, and those guys made it harder for me.' Things got so bad in 2011 that he took some time off from the sport and moved to Paris to live with an aunt before returning to the United States. 'It was very hard on our family, having to parent him from so far away,' said Picault's father. 'We told him to try his best, and prove he belongs. But it got really, really rough on him, so we said, 'Son, we have soccer in the States. Come back home.'' Looking back on that stage of his life now, seeing how far he has come, Picault said those years in Italy sharpened his game, strengthened his resolve, and thickened his skin. 'There were things that happened then that wouldn't happen now, with social media and awareness, so I'm glad there has been progress,' he said. 'I've taken two things from that as I've gotten older. It toughened me up, created a thick skin that is unbreakable, where nothing bothers me. I can just silence all the noise.' He stressed that there were many wonderful people in Italy and at the club, adding, 'I don't want to make it sound like I went to Italy and everybody was a racist.' He still considers Cagliari a second home, goes back yearly on vacation, and has many close friends there, including some former teammates who took him under their wing. Because of that kindness from teammates, Picault makes it a point to be a mentor to newcomers in every locker room. 'As I've gotten older, I've taken that role of making sure the young guys are okay because I know how far that can go and how much that meant to me as a young player back then,' he said. Picault, who had been selected for some Under-20 U.S. national team camps, thought he would land with an MLS team after returning from Italy. It didn't happen. So, he attended the NASL Combine, signed with the Tampa Bay Rowdies and later joined the Fort Lauderdale Strikers. 'Fafa always had a unique ability to put the ball in the net, and he can accelerate with the ball to get away from defenders,' said Thomas Rongen, who coached Picault with the U.S. Under 20 team. 'His first few steps are quite remarkable. He's very mature, has a great sense of humor, is a gentleman and consummate pro.' In January 2015, he moved back to Europe and spent six months with Sparta Prague in the Czech Republic before signing with St. Pauli, where he impressed manager Ewald Lienen, a friend of German legend and former U.S. national coach Jurgen Klinsmann, who invited him to a camp in 2016. 'Fafa is an interesting character,' Klinsmann said at the time. 'He took the route to Europe and fought his way through, and came out in St Pauli with a coach I know really well, and he told me: 'The kid is a fighter.' He's a hungry goalscorer, takes on people. He has speed, smells where the ball goes, good instincts. These are things that are difficult to teach.' Picault says his resilience comes from his family lineage. His paternal gradfather, Henri Picault, fled Port-au-Prince, Haiti, at the age of 35 in December 1963 and headed to New York City with his wife Dinorah, to escape François 'Papa Doc' Duvalier's oppressive regime. Henri Picault got his first job at a deli, then spent a half century as a cab driver, with a Haitian flag hanging from his rearview mirror. Fafa loved getting rides from him. One of their favorite destinations was a Dominican restaurant called Malecon on 97th and Amsterdam. 'He knows every crevice and crack in that city,' Fafa said. 'The biggest thing I took from him was work ethic. He was loyal to his craft, to be doing his job for as long as he did, at his age, I really admire that.' His maternal grandfather, Max Antoine, was a former star on Haiti's national team and beloved. Fafa did not realize what a big deal his grandfather was until he attended his funeral in Haiti in 2005 and there were people lined up for blocks outside the church. Throughout his career, which includes stints with six MLS teams, Picault has become a fan favorite. That is especially true in South Florida, where the Haitian community has embraced his return. Jim Curtin, who coached Picault with the Philadelphia Union from 2017-19, said: 'He lights up a room when he walks into it with that smile, always has a positive attitude. He's a great guy in the locker room. On the field, Fafa's a playmaker. Everywhere he's been, on every team, in every situation, whether it's a club team, or internationally with his national team, he always makes big plays. Only certain players have that. 'He was so valuable to me in the locker room as a young coach, literally helping me translate in the film sessions, in the locker room. We had maybe 15 countries represented, and I think he had every language covered.' Picault's team-first mentality is something Inter Miami coach Javier Mascherano has mentioned on numerous occasions this season. Curtin said he was the same in Philadelphia. 'Whatever your teams needs, at whatever moment in the game, if it's make a 90-yard recovery sprint to break up a play, even though he's an attacking player, he'll do that defensive work for you,' Curtin said. 'If it's make a big play on a header, on a corner kick at the end of the game to win it, he'll do that. He's a guy who will do whatever it takes for a team to win, and that's a coach's dream.' After Saturday's Inter Miami game against the Columbus Crew, Picault is headed to Aruba to play for the Haitian national team in World Cup qualifying matches against Aruba and Curacao. Because of the political unrest and violence in Haiti, the Haitian team cannot host any games. Wearing that Haiti jersey, as his grandfather did decades before, makes him immensely proud. And playing for Inter Miami, in front of Haitian fans, is also special, he said. 'Every time I step on the field, I know I represent more than just myself; I represent a big community of Haitians, both here and abroad, who are supporting me and have my back,' Picault said. 'With the situation going on in Haiti, we Haitians play with an extra chip on our shoulder, an extra passion, knowing the joy we can bring and maybe some peace for the people there.'
Miami Herald
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Miami Herald
Singer Melky Jean launches new rum brand, pours Haitian American legacy into each bottle
'Do you drink rum? Do you have a moment?' Melky Jean, the Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter and younger sister of multi-talented hip-hop icon Wyclef Jean, steps up to her in-home bar, pulls some of the most popular Caribbean and Latin American rum brands from the shelf, displays them on the counter and begins pouring. 'Ready for the next one?' she asks before taking out a final bottle, shaped like a sailing ship. For months, Jean has been hosting private tastings inside her North Broward home, hoping to get feedback and reactions as she introduces guests to her latest endeavor, one where she's blending her Haitian roots and American upbringing into a passion project aimed at both 'making people smile' and telling a story. As she pours from the bottle, she waits to see the reaction. 'I always said that if I wasn't in the entertainment business, I would have been a bartender. Why? Because I like to see people smile,' Jean said, explaining her draw to rum, whose origin date back to the 17th century in the cane fields of the Caribbean. 'I love to make drinks, but I also love to see people have a good time.' For the past 10 years, Jean has been crafting her own spirit brand and this month she debuted her Saint Sauveur 1972 Haitian Heritage Rum at the Miami Grand Prix. The month also marks Haitian Heritage Cultural Month, and she will feature the rum at the GIRLfriends In Business women entrepreneurial event hosted by L'Union Suite in West Palm Beach on May 31. She also recently landed her first deal with a restaurant to feature the spirit, Espanola Cigar & Lounge on South Beach. With her trademark smile, the artist whose background includes branding and marketing alongside her husband Supreme, stresses, 'I'm really about the spirit life, and it's as if I took that and put it in a bottle. I feel like it's really in our rum.' Saint Sauveur, Jean insists, is not your ordinary rum. It's a deeply personal project rooted in her own family history, Haitian culture and pride and her deep desire to tell a Haitian American story. It's a story about three generations of Haitian women, whose images have been combined to create the rum's label; and it's a story about a first generation Haitian American with each foot planted in two different cultures. 'I remember Americans making fun of me, because even though I was technically American, my whole culture and everything about me is Haitian. Then I remember when I was with the Haitians, they would make fun of me. I never completely fitted in,' she said. 'So what is my story?' 'Is there not a place for me? Are there not more people like me out there who don't fit into one particular box?,' Jean wondered. 'We deserve our space on the platform. We deserve our space on the bar, right next to Barbancourt, right next to [Venezuela's] Diplomático. There is enough room for all of us.' 'This is serendipitous' Jean says she has been hands-on with every aspect of Saint Sauveur. 'From the minute you first experience my rum, it comes from what you smell first,' she said. 'You'll get the hints of the coconut. You'll get the hints of the vanilla. There's one or two little secrets that I put in there, and I'm not telling anybody, so that they don't bite, you know? The smell of my rum alone is different than any other rums you'll smell.' There is both a two-year ($37.99) and four-year aged ($49.99) rum. The first comes across smooth and feminine, and the second offers a hair-raising kick and masculine vibe. Then there's the packaging and name, which are also 'intentional.' In between sips during her tasting, she asks about the Mayflower, the 17th century ship that brought English settlers to North America and established the first permanent European settlement. 'What would its equivalent be in a Haitian American context?' Jean asks. READ MORE: France forced Haiti to pay for independence. 200 years later, should there be restitution? In coming up with a name, Jean said she wanted to tell a story, but not just any story; one of the Haitian American experience in America. 'The story of the Saint Sauveur actually stuck with me,' she said. A 56-foot wooden sailboat, the Saint Sauveur brought the first documented group of Haitian refugees to South Florida after making landfall 40 miles north of Miami in Pompano Beach on Dec. 12, 1972. Jean stumbled on the story in a Miami Herald article while researching for the name of the first boat that brought Haitians to America. But it wasn't just the sailing ship's name that struck a chord with her. The year of the ship's arrival, is the same year that her mother, Solage, immigrated to the United States. 'I was like, 'This is serendipitous,' ' Jean said, adding that the bottling was a measured choice. 'I wanted that when my bottle sat on a shelf, it told the story.' Tribute to three generations of Haitian women Though Jean and her four siblings grew up in a strict conservative household with their pastor father, the Rev. Gesner Jean, their mother —like many Haitian women— made kremas, the traditional Haitian alcoholic beverage that's similar to eggnog but with no eggs and includes spices and often overproof white Haitian rum known as kléren. Her mother, Solage, made the drink in order to sell and have her own disposable income, Jean said. And even though she is allergic to alcohol and couldn't taste her own creation, the family matriarch had her own recipe. Jean's maternal grandmother Edalie was a rum maker and used to distill her own kléren, which is made with fermented sugarcane and often referred to as Haitian moonshine due to its raw and rustic production in shacks throughout rural Haiti. 'Honestly, I feel like I was able to capture the essence of grandma, the essence of mommy and the essence of Melky in a bottle in Saint Sauveur,' said Jean, who also runs her own organization, Carma Foundation, focused on improving the lives of women and children. 'And so I was very intentional, even with the labeling. I wanted it to be reflective of my mother and grandmother. 'Three generations of Haitian women. I wanted to be able to tell a story, not only my story, but my mom and my grandmother, who had 10 kids,' she said. Her brother Wyclef Jean, who wore a branded Saint Sauveur T-shirt during a special live performance with Lauryn Hill at Mana in Wynwood during the Miami Grand Prix earlier this month, said it's 'amazing to see my sister owning what once belonged to us.' His younger sister looking to their family's legacy to create opportunity is a source of pride. 'At the end of the day, you don't have to look any further than your culture,' he said. 'What I am hoping is for there to be a domino effect where more women in our culture build more businesses and understand the pride of Haitian culture and what they have in their hands,' added the rapper. Haitian rums growing in popularity Jean's passion project comes at a moment when Haitian liquor is finding its footing among consumers. Kerby Jacques Altidor, a collector of Haitian rums, said there is growing interest in the product including for kléren. Altidor said new brands are now popping up in top South Florida restaurants and at rum bars where business owners and patrons are also asking for 'their story.' 'People are going crazy for Haitian rum and they want to be educated about it,' said Altidor, who hosts his own rum tastings to introduce people to various brands. 'There is a confusion of what Haitian rum is, and what makes it distinct. There is also a lot of misinformation, like what kléren is and what is Haitian rum.' Kléren, Altidor insists is not moonshine as it is often described because of its homespun, rustic production. But there are brands of the overproof spirit with high quality production processes joining the more established Haitian brands like Rhum Barbancourt, which has now won over 57 medals.. Altidor, who is hosting his annual Konbit Bwason event on May 24 at IPC Art Space in Little Haiti and will feature Haiti-based kléren distiller, Tonty Jean-Jacques and his Clarin Lakay, has yet to taste Jean's rum. But her brand is part of an emerging market of boutique rums being created by members of the Haitian diaspora, he said, that are finding their way to the shelves of high-end establishments. Jean knew that if she got into this space, she wanted to control the narrative. She partnered with a female-owned distillery in Chicago, a city founded by a Haitian, to produce her rum, which is available for purchase online at 'I realized that being a woman, I wanted to have my own brand, but it was also one of the first times in my life that I was going to be able to tell my story,' she said. So far, Jean has received inquiries from various distributors including one in Amsterdam. But she and her husband recognize that the rum market is crowded. Still, while a rum like Barbancourt is well known, Jean stresses, 'I'm creating a rum for my generation, and I'm creating a rum that is a Haitian American story.'
Miami Herald
13-05-2025
- Politics
- Miami Herald
Designating Haiti's gangs as terrorists risks humanitarian aid
The Trump administration's decision to designate Haiti's most powerful armed gangs as Foreign Terrorist Organizations and Specially Designated Global Terrorists may project strength. Still, it risks triggering a catastrophic humanitarian collapse just as the need for aid intensifies and international support is stretched thin. Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced the designations last week, targeting the Viv Ansanm coalition, which controls up to 90% of Port-au-Prince, and its ally, the Gran Grif gang in the Artibonite region. These gangs have undeniably unleashed terror: more than 1,600 Haitians were killed in the first three months of 2025, and over five million face acute hunger. But branding them as terrorists is a blunt instrument where a scalpel is needed. The implications go far beyond symbolism. Under U.S. law, providing 'material support' to designated groups becomes a federal crime, a broad definition that can include food, fuel or medical supplies. This could criminalize humanitarian workers who must negotiate access with gangs or pay tolls to deliver aid. Already operating under dangerous conditions, many aid groups may now pull out entirely — tightening the gangs' grip on neighborhoods and deepening the suffering of those trapped inside them. Broward U.S. Rep. Sheila Cherfilus-McCormick, co-chair of the Haiti Caucus, warns the move could push Haiti further into isolation. Disrupting remittances and aid — economic lifelines for millions — would devastate a country already teetering on the edge. Haitian families rely on those funds for food, education, and survival. The gangs' dominance is not just a law enforcement issue; it's a symptom of institutional collapse. The Trump administration may view the designation as a show of resolve, but it lacks a strategic endgame, or even a path to prosecuting gang leaders. Without U.S. troops on the ground or a viable Kenyan-led force, what's the plan to dismantle these armed groups? There's also a critical deadline looming. In June, the contractor managing the U.S.-constructed base for nearly 1,000 Kenyan-led multinational troops needs assurance that the administration will continue the $200 million in funding. Without a firm commitment before the contract expires in September, the limited mission could withdraw this summer, leaving a dangerous power vacuum. In that case, gangs will operate unchecked, and more than a million displaced Haitians will be left to fend for themselves amid spiraling chaos. Experts warn the designation could also complicate future peace-building and gang demobilization efforts. It might even be used as justification for deporting Haitians from the U.S., including those tenuously linked to violence. State Rep. Dotie Joseph, a Haitian American leader, cautions that the terrorist label could be weaponized against Haitian immigrants, just as similar labels have been used against others, including Venezuelans targeted over tattoos or clothing. 'In practice, I am concerned that the administration may use such a designation as an additional tool to mistreat Haitian immigrants in the U.S.,' Joseph told the Editorial Board. The administration's next steps must include clear safeguards, guidance for aid groups and donors, and a strategy focused on weakening gang finances, not humanitarian access. The goal must be to choke off gang resources, not the flow of food and medicine. Labeling gangs as terrorists may play well politically, but the real cost could be paid in lives lost to hunger, disease and violence. Haiti doesn't need more punitive gestures. It needs protection, support and a coordinated international response. If the Trump administration won't back the U.N.-authorized Kenyan-led force, there must be a credible Plan B. Port-au-Prince is on the brink of state collapse. Declaring gangs as terrorists may feel decisive, but it won't stop the violence, and it could sever the last remaining lifelines for millions. This is a moment for nuanced diplomacy, not slogans. Haiti needs sustained, strategic engagement and a plan to dismantle the criminal networks Rubio himself says pose a threat to U.S. and regional interests. Haiti deserves better than an empty gesture dressed up as strategy. Click here to send the letter.
The Star
09-05-2025
- Health
- The Star
He's almost 90, but he wants to teach seniors how to use tech
MIAMI: Bertie McCulloch's smartphone has kept him safe in ways he hadn't imagined. McCulloch has hypertension and began using his phone to monitor his blood pressure. He would then give that information to his doctor. Based on the data collected, McCulloch's doctor was able to determine his medication was about 30 milligrams too much. It was then that McCulloch, 89, realised that other people his age need to understand the nuances of technology and how it can be helpful to their everyday lives. That is why he'll be teaching other seniors in North Miami about how they can get comfortable using technology. 'Right now, I'm down to 10 milligrams, and I don't have the fluctuations that I experienced before,' he told the Miami Herald . 'I would like to explain to them that they can help themselves by monitoring these certain things.' The event, NoMi Tech Senior Smart Living Luncheon, is one of many during NoMi Tech Month, North Miami's month-long effort to infuse technological skills and funding into its backyard by offering training to residents and business owners. McCulloch will sit on a panel with OneUnitedBank president Teri Williams and North Miami IT director Claude Charles to discuss why it's important to understand tools and offer tips to seniors who may be tech-averse. LaShevia Burns, president of Bringing Tech, will also lead a senior tech session. 'One of the things that we are more intentional about is making sure that all generations are included in this process,' North Miami Councilwoman Mary Estimé-Irvin told the Miami Herald. 'North Miami has a very large, diverse community. There's a large Haitian American community, a large Hispanic community, and the seniors are sometimes left behind. So I'm very excited about bringing in awareness and having a luncheon that makes them comfortable to adopt technology and not to be scared that they're not able to handle a big old computer.' NoMi Tech began in 2023 as a partnership between Lightship Foundation, an organisation that provides resources and support to tech business founders from diverse backgrounds. The goal is to help make North Miami a viable tech destination for businesses. The event has since grown and this year included a drone pilot program for adults and an afterschool music program for youth. Estimé-Irvin said it was a no-brainer having McCulloch teach to seniors. 'Just like anything else in life, when your peers are the ones participating, it's just believable,' she said. 'It's credible, and you can see that it's possible.' In North Miami, a city with a predominantly Black population, 97% of households have access to a computer and another 81% have Internet access, according to recent US Census Data. About 14% of the population is 65 or older. McCulloch's goal is to make his fellow seniors more comfortable with computers and smartphones and how to use them. For him, it's more than simply using the devices, it's about finding online communities, keeping track of appointments and scheduling prescription refills. Still, he says, he knows many seniors are worried about the dangers they potentially face while using technology. 'We don't like our information out there, and there is that kind of sense that you're giving up too much when you do all of that,' McCulloch said. Staying connected McCulloch, who was born and raised in Jamaica, has seen tech come and go, from beepers to Blackberrys to iPhones. He moved to New York in the 1960s when his wife was recruited for a nursing job. At the time, he worked as a junior chemist for Schenley Industries before working at Technicon Corporation, where he saw the company transition from manual system of analysing blood to a more automated process. McCulloch eventually worked at the New York City Health and Hospitals Corporation, and again, he witnessed the way tech changed another workplace. 'The evolution of technology and computer systems could not be avoided in the path that I was on,' he said. 'You couldn't avoid it. You embraced it because this was the trend. This was what was going to make you more efficient, and everything will be more accurate.' McCulloch moved to South Florida in 2012 after he retired and was convinced by his children to get a smartphone. He was slightly hesitant, like most senior citizens, but obliged as he'd had more experience with technology than most people his age, he said. The youngest of 10 children, McCulloch's only remaining sister died last year at 98. He described her as being in great shape, with a sharp mind who frequently used her tablet. It's what he desires for himself and his peers. 'The awareness of being in the present with everything around you is so important now,' he said. McCulloch knows it can be a challenge because seniors might not trust the technology. 'When you talk about seniors' struggles with technology, it has to do with the negativity surrounding social media and the cybersecurity aspects of it,' he said, adding he'd stopped using Facebook altogether after he got hacked several times. Still, he encouraged those who do use it to change their passwords frequently. He also cautioned against clicking on every popup or ad they see on the screen, adding that it may lead them to a website that asks for sensitive information. McCulloch also noted that there are resources for seniors so that they don't encounter misinformation online and recommended that they use Snopes as a way to determine if something they see on the Internet is true. McCulloch said technology has its uses for seniors, such as building community outside of their homes, especially those who live alone. Having a community online can be helpful to avoid loneliness and also to be aware of what's going on in the neighbourhood. 'It's amazing the information that comes through that chat,' McCulloch said. 'You get alerted about people who might not be from your neighbourhood, about things that you're concerned about in terms of safety, and you get tips about how you should deal with it.' He added it's a good way to also keep up with community events and meetings. Ultimately, McCulloch wants seniors to understand the rapidly changing world around them. 'The times have changed so rapidly, almost everything you touch or go to is computerised,' he said. 'You have to make the effort to understand what is happening around you.' – Miami Herald/Tribune News Service
Yahoo
02-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Seeking answers about death at Broward ICE center, congresswomen say they encounter ‘hostility and evasiveness'
Two members of Congress said Friday their efforts to learn more about the death of a detainee at an Immigration and Customs Enforcement center in Broward were stonewalled by staff at the facility. Their questions about the medical care at the Broward Transitional Center were met with 'hostility and evasiveness,' U.S. Rep. Sheila Cherfilus-McCormick told reporters outside the center after she and U.S. Rep. Frederica Wilson spent an hour and 35 minutes inside. The facility's staff 'refused to give us complete and clear answers,' Cherfilus-McCormick said. U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, which is at the forefront of President Donald Trump's efforts to round up and deport people who aren't in the country legally, hasn't provided much information about the death of Marie Ange Blaise, a 44-year-old Haitian citizen. ICE posted a 'detainee death notification' press release on Tuesday. It said Blaise was in its custody when 'pronounced deceased by medical professionals' at the Broward Transitional Center on April 25, at 8:35 p.m. 'The cause of death is under investigation.' That prompted the congressional visit. Cherfilus-McCormick, who represents most of the African American and Caribbean American communities in Broward and Palm Beach counties, is the only Haitian American member of Congress. Wilson, who represents South Broward and Miami-Dade counties, represents Miami's Little Haiti community. Both are Democrats. If conditions at the Broward facility and other ICE locations around the country persist, Cherfilus-McCormick and Wilson said, there would be more cases like Blaise — ending in detainee deaths. 'Marie is just an example of what is going to continue to happen,' Wilson said. 'This is something we're going to continue to see. It's going to get more crowded. It's going to continue to have more deaths. It's going to continue to have more children without their parents.' 'We must speak out. We must protest. We must let people know that this is wrong, that these people are human beings, that they are not to be caged like animals,' she added. Cherfilus-McCormick said what she saw inside the facility was 'heartbreaking.' 'This is not working. Marie Blaise wasn't just a one-off,' Cherfilus-McCormick said. 'This is not humane. Everything about it is very cruel and very, very unusual and peculiar.' Cherfilus-McCormick said there are 'well over 500 people' at the center, but she couldn't get a precise count. 'I specifically asked them how many people are here today and they would not answer,' she said. 'Instead, they wanted to give us a tour of empty bedrooms. They want us to take us into the chapel to show us how pretty the facility is. This is not about a facility being pretty. This is about how you are treating these women who are here and everybody else who's here in this facility.' Florida Senate Democrats change course with new leader Lori Berman. 'She doesn't fly off the cuff.' Campaign cash flows to state Rep. Cassel after her switch to Republican Party DeSantis questions Broward's 'massive' budget increases. 'What are they doing with that money?' Cherfilus-McCormick recounts horrors facing her own family members in Haiti, offers possible solutions to gang-fueled crisis Republican Moraitis matches Democrat Moskowitz in early money raised for Florida's hottest 2026 Congress race Challenger raises 18 times as much campaign money as Congresswoman Sheila Cherfilus-McCormick People have been detained at the facility for what she said are 'little incidents and infractions,' including one person who was in the U.S. for more than 25 years — and whose daughter is in the military — who's been at the transitional center waiting to be processed for five months. The main focus of the visit, they said, was to try to find out about health care services at the facility in general, and find out as much as they could about Blaise's death. Cherfilus-McCormick said she was told by the medical coordinator that there is one 'on-call' doctor for the facility. When the congresswomen began pressing for details, she said, their inquiries were shut down. 'We asked her several questions about what is her procedure, and she became very hostile, didn't want to answer questions. So we asked a little bit more. Well, how many people, how many doctors do you have? She said one. When we started asking more about that doctor, she refused to answer that question. 'Then when we asked about how many health care professionals, she stopped answering questions. And you could see that she was physically upset and didn't want to respond any longer,' Cherfilus-McCormick said. The lawmakers said they spoke with four detainees with specific knowledge of what happened to Blaise. 'They told us how she complained of chest pain regularly … for quite a few days,' Cherfilus-McCormick said. On the morning of her death she was given a prescription, but the pain continued. 'If you had persistent heart pain, chest pain, why was there no EKG? Why wasn't she sent to the hospital?' she asked. ICE said in its April 29 announcement that it 'provided email notification of Blaise's death' to the Haitian consulate in Miami. Wilson said the members of Congress haven't been able to find out much about Blaise or her family. She said her staff was able to track down Blaise's 22-year-old son via phone in California but he 'instantly became so upset' — possibly, she said, fearing the call was being traced or the government would try to find him 'because he might have been undocumented' — that he didn't provide much information. ICE's initial statement about the death provided some details about Blaise. The agency said it didn't know when or where Blaise entered the United States 'without admission or parole.' On Feb. 12, U.S. Customs and Border Protection stopped her at the airport in Saint Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands, attempting to board a flight to Charlotte, N.C. On Feb. 14, CBP transferred her to ICE custody in San Juan, Puerto Rico. On Feb. 21, ICE transferred her to Richwood Correctional Center in Oakdale, La. On April 5, she was transferred to ICE's Miami division, which put her at the Broward Transitional Center. ICE said it notified the inspector general's office for its parent agency, the Department of Homeland Security, and the ICE Office of Professional Responsibility, about the death. Wilson scoffed at the notion of those offices investigating what happened because, she said, so many of their staffers have been fired since Trump took office in January. Cherfilus-McCormick and Wilson said there should be some kind of external investigation into the death. ICE didn't immediately respond to questions Friday about Blaise or what Cherfilus-McCormick and Wilson reported from their visit. Neither did the GEO Group, the national private prison company based in Boca Raton, which has the contract to operate the facility. Wilson said GEO Group's contract should be canceled. The facility is on Powerline Road in Deerfield Beach. The nearest major landmark is the Monarch Hill landfill, more commonly known as Mount Trashmore. In the press release, ICE said it cares for detainees. 'ICE remains committed to ensuring that all those in its custody reside in safe, secure, and humane environments. Comprehensive medical care is provided from the moment individuals arrive and throughout the entirety of their stay. All people in ICE custody receive medical, dental and mental health screening and 24-hour emergency care at each detention facility. At no time during detention is a detained illegal alien denied emergent care,' the statement said. GEO Group uses similar language about 'a safe, secure, and humane environment.' Tessa Petit, a native of Haiti who is executive director of the Florida Immigration Coalition, said the Trump administration has 'declared hunting season on immigrants' and is 'failing to provide the minimum safety and basic needs to those in their care.' Petit and Mary Estimé-Irvin, a city of North Miami council member, and chair of the National Haitian American Elected Officials Network, joined Cherfilus-McCormick and Wilson outside the facility, but only the lawmakers and their staffers were allowed inside. Estimé-Irvin said Blaise's name 'must not be forgotten. Her story must not be ignored. The death of Marie Ange Blaise raises serious troubling questions about the treatment of individuals in federal custody.' Anthony Man can be reached at aman@ and can be found @browardpolitics on Bluesky, Threads, Facebook and Mastodon.
