In Miami Celebration Is Dampened With Caution
By Sue Anne Pressley and April Witt
Washington Post Staff Writers
MIAMI, April 19—In the streets outside the Little Havana house where
Elian Gonzalez has been living, jubilant demonstrators who have sacrificed
sleep, work and home life to fight for the 6-year-old's continued stay
in the
United States felt vindicated today: They had fought the intimidating forces
of the federal government and won, at least for now.
With cries of "Thank you, God" and "God bless America," many burst into
tears as soon as the favorable decision by the 11th U.S. Circuit Court
of
Appeals was announced, ordering the boy to remain here as his political
asylum case is appealed. Well-wishers rushed to hug Elian's great-uncle
Lazaro Gonzalez, who has since last week defied the federal order to
surrender the boy to his Cuban father. And a group of 100 protesters who
had protectively encircled the house to ward off federal authorities felt
secure enough--for a moment anyway--to break formation and march
triumphantly down the street behind a sign denouncing Attorney General
Janet Reno.
Flush with victory, and evoking biblical images of David besting the giant
Goliath with a slingshot, they said their resolve has only been strengthened,
their energies recharged. They will continue to fight for as long as it
takes
to ensure that Elian will never return to Cuba.
"Fidel is going to have a heart attack today," said social worker Rafael
Penalever about the Cuban president who has demanded Elian's return.
"The Cuban people in Miami are joined at this moment, and nobody can
take Elian back.
"The Cubans are going to blockade the streets and blockade the airport
for months if that is what it takes--there are many bad things that will
happen if they try to take Elian from us."
At first, confusion reigned, as many of the people keeping vigil outside
the
house seemed to interpret the ruling as confirmation that the major battle
was won and that Elian would not be going back to Cuba at all. Street
vendors immediately displayed a new line of red, white and blue T-shirts
that said, "Elian Lives in America Now."
But gradually, the realization dawned that there is nothing to prevent
officials with the Immigration and Naturalization Service from coming to
take the boy to Juan Miguel Gonzalez, his father waiting in Washington.
And, although the celebration continued, it was with a feeling that all
guards
must remain up.
"No one should make predictions on the ultimate outcome based on this
order," said Miami family attorney Kendall Coffey, speaking to the
growing hordes of protesters and reporters outside the house. "The family
is very grateful for the obviously serious concern and study that is being
received, but this is a preliminary order, it is not a final decision.
. . . We
call upon the INS to take no precipitous action between now and the time
this appeal is heard. Because it is so clear that the rights of a child
have to
be heard without further disruption, without further dislocation, without
further trauma of any sort."
The family received the news today "tearfully and with prayer," he said.
"Recent days have been very difficult, days of unrelenting pressure from
every source," he said. "But they stood courageously."
Speaking through an interpreter, Lazaro Gonzalez said that "the Gonzalez
family continues to believe in the laws of the United States and we will
continue to pray . . . that Elian will remain here where his mother wanted
him to be, in a country of freedom."
The family has been keeping the child since his rescue off the South Florida
coast on Thanksgiving Day, one of three survivors of a shipwreck in which
his mother and nine others drowned. Since last week, the five-month saga
has taken on a new urgency, as Lazaro Gonzalez refused to give up the
boy and federal officials refused to back down from their plans to come
and get him, by force if need be.
It was unclear what might happen next, in terms of the boy's transfer to
his
father. Although police here were busy reinforcing barricades around the
neighborhood, several said it was unlikely that any federal authorities
would come to get the boy this evening with the crowd so large and the
traffic snarled by revelers.
The celebration continued to grow, despite the uncertainties. A honking
motorcade crawled through the streets of Little Havana, and children hung
out the windows of a school bus, shouting, "Viva Cuba Libre"--long live
free Cuba. Many in the crowd dabbed at tears as the anti-government
feelings of the past few days seemed to be replaced by a patriotic fervor;
American flag pins appeared on lapels and someone began singing "The
Battle Hymn of the Republic."
About the only dissenting voice to be found was high above, on a banner
trailing a small plane. "Send Elian Home--The Taxpayers," it said. Recent
news reports have estimated that the dispute has cost local governments
here more than $1 million in police overtime pay and other expenses.
As those around him hugged and cheered, Humberto Perez shared the
elation, but not the sentiment that the worst might be over. One of the
first
paratroopers to land in Cuba during the failed Bay of Pigs invasion 39
years ago, and a veteran of two tours in Vietnam, he is not ready to
declare a final victory--or a peaceful end to the ordeal.
"The boxing match is 12 rounds. This is the 10th round and this one is
in
favor of us," Perez said. "Justice and the law are two different things.
I'm
here now for justice, not for the law. I respect the laws of this country.
. . .
[But] the veterans of the Bay of Pigs are here . . . to protect the child.
It's
that simple."
Special correspondent Catharine Skipp in Miami contributed to this report.