The Miami Herald
April 22, 2001

Year after raid, most lives back to normal

 BY CAROL ROSENBERG

 Dolphin is a full-blown, 60-pound black Labrador retriever. The puppy that once played with Elián González in Little Havana still lives with the boy's great-uncle and his family, in a fenced yard six miles away.

 Donato Dalrymple, the Lauderhill man who became known as ``The Fisherman'' for spotting the boy at sea on his first-ever fishing expedition, is cleaning houses again in Broward County. Janet Reno is back home in Kendall.

 No longer fixtures of the nightly national news, the people who were central to the boy's seven-month custody case today are engaged in more mundane routines.

 The lawyers and the spokesmen, the law enforcers and the clerics -- they have all moved on.

 Lázaro González, his family and the dog now live in a modest, three-bedroom home in West Miami, bought for them by admirers after the April 22, 2000, predawn raid.

 But scars remain. The two Broward cousins who saved the boy in an inner tube on Thanksgiving Day 1999 have not spoken in more than a year.

 Neither have the once-close Gonzálezes of Cárdenas, Cuba, and Little Havana.

 ``Castro won't allow it,'' said Lázaro, 50, who sports a wristwatch with Elián's face behind the dial. Unemployed since the raid, he starts a $12.53-an-hour county job on Monday -- a full-time position painting and repairing buses, said Miami-Dade Transit spokesman Manny Palmeiro.

 Angela, 48, still works in a Hialeah factory, the family breadwinner.

 Marisleysis, 22, is back at Miami-Dade Community College. She has changed majors -- from child psychology to elementary school education. And, by several reports, she is still quite fragile.

 ``She gets incredibly upset . . . as in melancholy. She misses Elián incredibly,'' says González family attorney Frank Quintero, co-counsel in their federal lawsuit.

 It's a year to the day since federal agents stormed the González home at 2319 NW Second St. and grabbed Elián at gunpoint to reunite him with his father, Juan Miguel. These days, the empty house has the feel of a shrine.

 But Lázaro said he still stops by the house just about every other day.

 His brother, Delfín, is a less frequent visitor.

 He is back home in the Keys, where he has a lobster trap business.

 `THE FISHERMAN'

 Also scarce is Dalrymple, 41, who is awaiting a court date in his lawsuit against former Attorney General Reno and others, says attorney Larry Klayman of Judicial
 Watch. He is seeking $100 million in pain and suffering in the federal raid.

 Dalrymple was once such a Little Havana regular that he was snoozing on a couch the night of the seizure -- and tried to hide Elián in a closet.

 Now he's listed as a featured speaker next month on Judicial Watch's Cruise to Clean Up Corruption, a seven-day, $1,908-minimum sail to Mexico and back.

 The list includes other darlings of the conservative set, such as Gennifer Flowers, the Arkansas lounge singer who says she and Bill Clinton had a 12-year affair.

 Dalrymple's cousin Sam Ciancio, 43, of Pompano Beach, went to Cuba in November to see Elián.

 The roofer who dived in to save the boy from the sea is headed back to Cuba in June for a Hemingway fishing tournament.

 Ciancio dates the cousins' rift to a teary-eyed meeting a year ago with Elián's father in attorney Greg Craig's office. ``Juan Miguel said, `I was born and raised a
 communist. I love my country and I just want to take my son back home,' '' the roofer recounted.

 ``But Donato would have none of it.''

 RENO BACK HOME

 Reno, 62, is settling into a post-Elián routine, too. Back home since January, she is writing a memoir, speaks occasionally and is trying to mend relations with Cuban
 Americans.

 She frequently tells interviewers, both English and Spanish media, how sad she is that the Elián episode stirred pain and resentment.

 Immigration Commissioner Doris Meissner has returned to an earlier life, too. Once again at her Washington, D.C., think tank, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, she is now specializing in global policy by foreign nations.

 Others have moved on as well:

 THE SPINNERS

 Armando Gutierrez, the publicist who championed the Little Havana side of the story, still does public relations on Coral Way.

 ``I still live in the same house and have the same business,'' he said.

 Still writing his memoirs, he hopes to publish the book himself this summer under its working title: The Spokesman.

 Immigration and Naturalization Service spokeswoman Maria Cardona and Justice Department spokeswoman Carole Florman have both left for partisan posts in the private sector. Cardona is communications director at the Democratic National Committee; Florman is vice president for communications at the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.

 THE LAWYERS

 Three members of the former so-called Elián Defense Team, pro-bono lawyers hired by Lázaro to keep the boy here, are now pursuing politics. Manny Diaz and Jose Garcia-Pedrosa are candidates for Miami mayor; Spencer Eig is seeking a seat on the Miami Beach Commission.

 ``I don't intend to make my involvement in Elián part of the campaign,'' said Eig, who concedes that his pro-bono work on the case has enhanced his political profile. ``As I go around talking about the issues, people recognize me as abogado de Elián, the lawyer of Elián.''

 But the Elián connection did not help Roberto Curbelo Jr., a González family friend who was inside the Little Havana house when the agents broke open the door.

 He lost a Miami-Dade County Commission District 11 race and has returned to real estate.

 Immigration attorneys Linda Osberg-Braun and Roger Bernstein still share Aventura offices. Diaz and Kendall Coffey split up their practice around the time Coffey joined the recount team of Democratic presidential candidate Al Gore.

 Washington insider Greg Craig, once President Clinton's attorney, said his Williams & Connolly law practice is unchanged by his representation of Juan Miguel. Craig, who said his wife and five kids got close to the Gonzálezes, called the case ``one of the most satisfying experiences I have had as a lawyer.''

 Juan Miguel has rung up the Craig home at least a half-dozen times from Cárdenas, Craig said, when an English speaker can help with the call. Once, he said, Elián
 came on the phone.

 ``He said, `Hello Greg.' It was probably around birthday time.''

 Financially, Craig did fine, too. Private Americans, ``not any Cubans,'' paid his fees -- ``although it didn't come close to all the time I put into it.''

 THE CLERICS

 Sister Jeanne O'Laughlin, Barry University president, has extended her contract through 2005. The Catholic nun who hosted Elián and his grandmothers turns 72 in May but has no plans for retirement, said Barry spokeswoman Michele Morris: ``She has got more endurance, stamina, strength and life than a lot of people half her age.''

 O'Laughlin pointedly tried to persuade her friend Reno to let Elián stay in Miami, an effort that did not hurt fundraising on the campus with many Cuban-American
 students. Morris said the school raised $120 million last year, $20 million more than its campaign target.

 Meantime, the Rev. Joan Brown Campbell is back in upstate New York after her fourth visit to Cárdenas, Cuba, in less than a year. The former general secretary of the National Council of Churches, she sponsored the U.S. stays of Juan Miguel and Elián's grandmothers. She is still director of religious studies at the Chautauqua
 Institution, which she calls ``a progressive think tank.''

 A grandmother herself, she says she visits Cuba so often because she's grown close to Elián and his father, Juan Miguel, who writes about once a month. ``I am
 convinced that they are a very strong family,'' she said.

 THE DEMONSTRATORS

 The black-clad Mothers Against Repression gather each Wednesday at Our Lady of Charity Shrine by Mercy Hospital. Founder Sylvia Iriondo, who got a blast of tear gas during the federal raid, says they offer a weekly 6 p.m. prayer for Cuba's children.

 Member Rosa de la Cruz, the art collector who was heartbroken over what she felt was non-Cuban indifference to the episode, is still boycotting the Miami Art Museum and the Museum of Contemporary Art. ``It's very sad because I still support a lot of young artists but I am no longer active in MAM and MOCA,'' said de la Cruz, who was overcome by tear gas that morning. Moreover, at her request, the two museums rubbed her name off credits posted by artwork she contributed. The benefactor plates now say ``anonymous.''

 THE FEDS

 The gun-waving federal agent who appears in an emblematic photo of Elián's seizure remains anonymous. Immigration service spokesmen say he is still with the El
 Paso-based Border Police Tactical unit that grabbed Elián. But they still won't name him. Betty Mills, who carried Elián out of the Little Havana house, has left South
 Florida. The INS agent now teaches at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in rural Georgia.

 Jim Goldman, who headed up the enforcement operation, is still the INS chief of investigations at the Biscayne Boulevard headquarters, says INS spokesman Russ
 Bergeron. Goldman's boss, Miami District Director Robert Wallis, was promoted to director of the agency's Central Region in Dallas.

 THE PHOTOGRAPHERS

 The freelancer whose photo of Dalrymple and Elián trying to hide in a closet now has full-time employment.

 Alan Diaz is on staff at the Associated Press' Miami office, no longer a day-rate photographer. Last week he won a Pulitzer Prize, journalism's highest honor.

 Freelance cameraman Joaquin `Tony' Zumbado, who followed Diaz into the house, said he initially suffered deep depression because federal agents stopped him from filming the moment. Now he says he visits the González family often and films them. He plans to produce a documentary.

 Zumbado said the Elián episode neither hurt nor helped his career.

 NBC recently sent him to the Middle East for a month to film Palestinian unrest and Yasser Arafat. But he still marvels at the impact of the story of the child whom he first filmed soon after he was saved.

 ``I have been covering big stories for 25 years, important people, wars in Central America, people who were already important when I covered them,'' he said. ``But I still can't believe that this little Elián rafter kid went from someone who nobody knew to all of a sudden everyone knows his name.''

                                    © 2001