Elian's Kin: 'Everyman' in the Spotlight
By MIKE CLARY, Times Staff Writer
MIAMI--In Cuba he became a policeman like his older brother, and then studied
to be a physical education
instructor.
After he, his wife and their two young children got visas to come here
in 1984, he worked odd
jobs--painting
boats and doing body and fender work.
Lazaro Gonzalez was never political. He was no community leader. He made
no news.
But right now the 49-year-old great-uncle of Elian Gonzalez is one of the
most talked-about people in
America.
To the U.S. government he is a law-breaker who has defied several federal
mandates, gone face to
face with
Atty. Gen. Janet Reno and refused to budge, and now is daring immigration
officials to enter his house
and seize
the 6-year-old child in an action that many believe could explode into
civil unrest.
According to Gregory B. Craig, an influential Washington lawyer, Lazaro
Gonzalez has "not only
broken
the law, but emotionally damaged and exploited this most wonderful little
boy." Craig is
representing
Juan Miguel Gonzalez, Elian's father, who wants to return with the boy
to Cuba.
Surveys indicate that around the U.S., most people agree with Craig that
Lazaro Gonzalez is
flouting
the law by refusing to hand over Elian, whom he has cared for since the
boy was rescued at
sea Nov.
25.
But that opinion doesn't garner much support when translated into Spanish
and offered up to the
throngs
on the street in front of the great-uncle's Little Havana home. Here, Lazaro
Gonzalez is a
Cuban
everyman, thrust almost at random onto a world stage and asked to undergo
a test of personal
integrity
that has been magnified by global and exile politics. And to the vast majority
here, Gonzalez is
passing
the test with flying colors--the red, white and blue of the American and
Cuban flags.
"I think he is an excellent man, un hombre recto," said Maria Machado,
60, who like hundreds of
Cuban
Americans stops by the house almost daily to lend support to the Miami
relatives' fight to
prevent
Elian from returning to Cuba.
"I wouldn't say he is a hero exactly. He is just doing what any of us would
do--the right thing."
For weeks, Lazaro Gonzalez has made his position clear: He will not try
to prevent U.S.
Immigration
and Naturalization Service officers from removing Elian from his home,
but he will not
deliver
him into their hands either. That, said Gonzalez, would betray a promise
he made to Elian, who
the family
says often expresses his desire not to go back to Cuba.
"Lazaro has repeatedly been given a series of ultimatums the likes of which
I think are
unprecedented
in this country," said Roger Bernstein, one of several Miami attorneys
volunteering to
represent
Gonzalez. "He's a very courageous man who cares deeply about his family
and loves Elian
like he
does his own children."
In Washington, where he has been waiting for 11 days to regain custody
of his son, Juan Miguel
Gonzalez,
31, is furious with Lazaro. Elian's father has spoken bitterly of how he
gave up his bed to his
uncle
when Lazaro and the family visited their hometown of Cardenas, Cuba, in
1998.
Now, the way Juan Miguel sees it, his uncle--his father's brother--won't
give him back his own
son.
Juan Miguel said Sunday on CBS-TV's "60 Minutes" that he didn't believe
a video taped at the
relatives'
home in which his son said he didn't want to go back to Cuba.
"This is child abuse and mistreatment, what they're doing to this boy,"
Gonzalez said. "The way
they're
abusing him, turning him against his father . . . he's suffering more here
among them than he
suffered
in the sea."
Nonetheless, tensions eased a bit over the weekend before an expected ruling
this week on the
Miami
family's request to grant Elian an asylum hearing. But the pressure on
Lazaro Gonzalez is
unrelenting.
On Friday, the government formally revoked his temporary custody of Elian,
and the 24-hour crowd in
front
of his house is more vocally supportive and more demanding. The flag-waving,
sign-toting supporters want
to hear
from him, have their picture taken with him, even touch his hand.
The strain is showing. A square-shouldered man of medium height, Gonzalez
is often seen leaning against the
front
fence, sucking on a Marlboro, head down, listening intently, while some
lawyer, politician or celebrity offers
advice.
According to those around him, Lazaro Gonzalez listens and then makes his
own decisions. And at times
those
decisions run counter to his advisors' suggestions.
The controversial videotape of Elian telling his father that he did not
want to go back to Cuba, for example,
dismayed
some legal advisors, say sources. On a CNN-TV talk show Sunday, Spencer
Eig, another lawyer,
dodged
questions about whether it hurt Lazaro's case.
Born in Cardenas in 1950, Lazaro is the youngest of nine children. He was
34 years old when he
followed
the path to Miami blazed years earlier by his older sister Caridad and
his brother Delfin, who
had been
convicted of actions against the Communist government and jailed for 10
years. When
Lazaro
and his wife, Angela, arrived here on immigrant visas, their son William
was 12, their daughter
Marisleysis
was 6.
Prior to Elian's arrival, Lazaro Gonzalez was arrested twice for drunken
driving, for which
Armando
Gutierrez, the family's spokesman, said Gonzalez is sorry.
In the escalating verbal war between Cuba and the exile community over
the Elian case, officials of
the Fidel
Castro government called Lazaro an "alcoholic" and accused him of sexually
abusing students
in Cuba.
Gonzalez has countered those allegations with a 1983 Cuban government document
certifying
that he has not been sanctioned by any criminal court.
For years, Angela Gonzalez has worked in a clothing factory in Hialeah.
Marisleysis, 21, who has
welcomed
the role of Elian's surrogate mother, is a 1997 graduate of Miami High
School. After three
semesters
of community college, she found work as a bank loan officer, a job from
which she is on
leave.
William, married with a young child, lives elsewhere in Miami.
Since Elian's arrival, Marisleysis has been hospitalized several times
for stress and various stomach
disorders.
And Lazaro Gonzalez has had little time to work. Gutierrez said the family
gets by on
Angela's
income, along with some help from Delfin Gonzalez, 63, who has a business
selling lobster
traps.
The Cuban American National Foundation, a well-connected lobbying group,
has paid for the trips
to Washington
that Marisleysis, Delfin and other relatives have made in urging an asylum
hearing for
Elian.
But foundation spokeswoman Ninoska Perez said Lazaro Gonzalez has refused
other offers of
cash.
"He says, 'I don't want anyone to say I'm doing this to help myself,' "
she said.
This week, Lombardo Perez Jr., the owner of a Miami Ford dealership and
a director of the
Cuban
American National Foundation, told the Miami Herald that he has hired Gonzalez
to eventually
work in
the body shop and has already begun paying him.
Government-appointed counselors who met with Gonzalez last week say the
fishbowl existence in
which
Elian lives--with television cameras trained on the house constantly--is
not healthy for the child.
Nor for
adults.
"He's very volatile," said psychiatrist Paulina Kernberg of Cornell University,
who met with Lazaro
Gonzalez
for less than an hour last Monday. "You know, he converts to a kind of
fighting, brassy
persona.
He would say one thing, and then he snatches it away. He's been, I think,
under too much
pressure."
Ironically, Gonzalez and his family made their journey out of Cuba with
the one member of the
family
in Miami who does not agree with his stance on Elian. Manuel Gonzalez,
59, has supported
Juan Miguel,
and the brothers who live six blocks apart no longer speak.
Manuel Gonzalez has visited family in Cuba three times in recent years.
He was there when
Elisabeth
Brotons was pregnant with Elian, he said in a recent interview; he was
there when Elian was
2 years
old, and again in 1998, when the boy was 4½. That is the summer
that Lazaro Gonzalez first
met Elian.
After Elian's mother, Elisabeth Brotons, and 10 others drowned and the
boy was plucked from the
sea, Manuel
and his wife, Emilia, were in Spain on vacation. Had he been here, said
Manuel, he might
have been
given custody.
And, he said, Elian might be back in Cuba by now.
---
Times staff writer Esther Schrader in Miami and Associated Press contributed
to this story.