As the controversial Alligator Alcatraz closes, advocates fear that conditions at the remote Baker Correctional Institution—nicknamed ‘Deportation Depot’—are mirroring the same systemic failures.
The silence surrounding the Baker Correctional Institution is broken only by the occasional, desperate whistle of a man trapped inside. Located in the remote forests of northern Florida. nearly 50 miles from the nearest metro area of Jacksonville. the facility has become a black box of immigration detention. While the now-closed Alligator Alcatraz in the Everglades drew national attention through its proximity to Miami and its high-profile visitors. Baker—a former state prison closed in 2021—operates in a fog of obscurity.
Inside the perimeter. approximately 1. 000 detainees. including elderly individuals and DACA recipients from countries like Russia. Cuba. Venezuela. Honduras. and Guatemala. endure what they describe as a war of attrition. Detainees report stifling heat from malfunctioning air conditioning. broken windows. and portions of food so meager that men resort to smuggling leftovers in their socks to survive the day. Jose Andres Urbina, a Venezuelan asylum seeker who lived in St. John’s County until his arrest on May 9, 2026, says he lost 40 pounds during his four-month stint at Baker. Breakfast, often served between 3 a.m. and 6 a.m., typically consisted of two spoonfuls of eggs, bacon, unflavored oatmeal, and fruit cocktail.
This isolation is no accident. A Department of Homeland Security Office of Inspector General report recently warned that ICE has provided minimal oversight for the facility. noting that Baker was not internally inspected by the Office of Detention Oversight. nor was it scheduled for inspection in fiscal years 2026 or 2027. The facility is run by the GEO Group and other contractors. When reached for comment. ICE directed inquiries to the state of Florida. while the Governor’s Office and the Florida Division of Emergency Management. which operates the site. did not respond.
The human cost is measured in more than just physical deprivation. Esther. who speaks with her boyfriend via 15-minute phone calls. says he has developed unexplained white patches on his skin but remains unable to access medical care. He spends his days playing solitaire to avoid the tension of a cramped dormitory where 100 men share space lined with 50 bunk beds. “He wants to wait here and see what happens,” Esther says, even as officers repeatedly offer him voluntary departure. For Amy Godshall. an attorney with the ACLU. the intent is clear: “The facility is designed to torture people and push them to their breaking point so that they will self-deport.”.
Legal access has become a recurring casualty. Detainees describe systematic obstacles that echo the violations found at Alligator Alcatraz. including delayed attorney calls. missed court appointments. and lost legal mail. With no commissary available to purchase extra food, many remain in a constant state of hunger. The connection between the two facilities is not merely circumstantial; both centers were part of an administrative push that saw Florida officials. including Governor Ron DeSantis. place optics and remote sequestration at the center of their detention strategy.
Every month. the Micah Solidarity Project brings up to 100 people to the edge of US Highway 90 to hold a procession for those inside. During an April gathering, organizer Clara Sowers watched as drones circled overhead and sheriff’s cars loomed nearby. When the crowd whistled toward the prison, the entire facility erupted in a collective response. “They were so excited to see other humans,” Sowers recalls. For the detainees at Baker. the world outside feels as distant as a foreign war. but as long as the doors remain shut. the vigil on the highway continues.
Baker Correctional Institution Florida Immigration Detention ICE GEO Group Ron DeSantis Deportation Depot Human Rights