(FLORIDA, UNITED STATES) Florida’s new state-run immigration detention center—widely branded by officials as the “Deportation Depot”—quietly opened in mid-August 2025 at the former Baker Correctional Institution near Sanderson, about 45 miles west of Jacksonville. By early September, the site held 117 detainees, with state leaders signaling plans to ramp up quickly.
The facility’s initial capacity is 1,300 detainees, expandable to 2,000, and Florida officials say the $6 million setup costs will be covered upfront by the state, with the federal government reimbursing ongoing operations. Governor Ron DeSantis called it a “ready-made infrastructure” fix for immigration enforcement, as Florida deepens its role in detention once led by federal agencies alone.
The center’s opening came on August 14, 2025, the same day it was announced, making it one of the fastest turnarounds for a major detention site in Florida. State officials say the Deportation Depot will work alongside “Alligator Alcatraz,” the controversial Everglades detention complex launched earlier in 2025. Alligator Alcatraz remains open after a federal appeals court stayed a lower court order that would have required it to wind down; a separate federal judge has temporarily halted further construction there over environmental concerns, with a final ruling expected before the end of September.
What sets the Deportation Depot apart, however, is not only its size and speed, but its secrecy: there is no public, regularly updated list of people held inside. As of mid-September, the state has not provided a detainee roster, making it hard for families and lawyers to confirm whether a person is inside, how to reach them, or whether they have been moved. Advocates warn this “unlisted” status could block legal access and weaken oversight of a detention center that may soon hold thousands.
Policy details and federal backing
The facility is operated by the Florida Department of Emergency Management, with state leaders indicating plans to involve the National Guard. Florida Attorney General James Uthmeier has framed the site as a practical expansion to supplement Alligator Alcatraz, and he has expressed confidence that the Deportation Depot will avoid the immediate legal challenges seen with the Everglades facility.
State officials, pointing to state sovereignty and public safety, say the center is built for quick intake and long-term holding of people suspected of being in the United States 🇺🇸 without permission. The Trump administration has pledged to reimburse Florida for detention-related expenses, marking a shift from previous years when state or local governments often absorbed these costs.
President Trump has suggested Florida’s approach could serve as a national model, reinforcing the administration’s broader push to expand detention and removal across the country. According to analysis by VisaVerge.com, Florida’s strategy reflects a growing alignment between state leaders and federal priorities, setting up a test of how far state-run detention can go with federal financial support.
Inside the former prison, Florida has created space to hold both men and women—an operational change from the site’s previous life as a men’s facility. Officials have not released information on intake procedures, attorney access, or family notification, beyond saying the state is ready to “fill it up quickly.” For many lawyers, those gaps raise alarms. Without clear intake rules or a public roster, they say:
- Confirming a client’s location can be slow and uncertain.
- Delays can cost people the chance to seek bond, gather evidence, or meet filing deadlines.
The Deportation Depot’s opening also comes amid heavy political interest. Supporters in conservative strongholds argue the facility will deter unlawful entry and allow faster transfers to deportation. Opponents call the expansion inhumane, especially when people are detained solely for immigration violations, and they question whether a state-run system—paid for with federal dollars—can maintain transparency and basic rights.
State leaders say they expect little legal resistance at the new center, even as court fights continue over Alligator Alcatraz’s environmental footprint and operational scope.
Beyond Florida, the national detention population hovered around 60,000 in August 2025, and more than 70% reportedly had no criminal convictions. Florida’s new capacity could push those numbers higher, especially if state-federal partnerships expand. Legal scholars note that states stepping into a space long controlled by federal agencies could fragment oversight and standards, with different states setting different rules for access, care, and release.
Transparency gap and community impact
The lack of a public detainee list is already reshaping daily life for families and counselors trying to find loved ones. Advocates say the missing roster means they can’t confirm who’s detained, which units they’re in, or whether someone has been transferred or deported.
Lawyers report trouble verifying a client’s location—sometimes only learning of a move after missed calls or failed visits. Journalists and watchdog groups face their own barriers: without baseline data on the number of people held, their nationalities, or how long they’ve been inside, outside oversight is limited.
That gap leaves essential questions about conditions and medical care unanswered, and it makes it harder to map patterns of prolonged detention. Florida officials have not addressed the transparency issue directly. The Florida Attorney General has focused instead on capacity, stating confidence in the Deportation Depot’s legal footing and describing it as a needed supplement to Alligator Alcatraz.
Governor DeSantis has argued that expanding detention is necessary for state security and immigration enforcement, matching the Trump administration’s mass deportation agenda. While supporters in Baker County welcome the jobs and federal dollars the reopened site may bring, others in the rural community worry about escapes or rising crime—even though data show most immigration detainees have no criminal record.
For people seeking basic information, the choices are limited:
- Some families turn to legal aid groups, though access to the facility remains uncertain.
- Others consider Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests, which can take time and may not provide immediate answers about a specific person’s whereabouts.
The Department of Homeland Security provides a central portal for FOIA filings; readers can find it on the Department of Homeland Security FOIA page: https://www.dhs.gov/foia. Advocates say FOIA can help build a picture of detention practices but won’t solve the urgent problem of locating a person held inside a state-run site with no public roster.
Reported process at the Deportation Depot
Here’s what people report about the typical process at the Deportation Depot so far:
- Apprehension by state or federal authorities of individuals suspected of being in the country without permission.
- Transfer to the Baker County site, which can hold both men and women.
- Processing on arrival, with key details about intake procedures and family notification still unclear.
- Detention for weeks or months while immigration cases move forward or removal is scheduled.
- Release, transfer to federal custody, or deportation—with outcomes hard to track publicly in the absence of a detainee list.
Legal and immigrant-rights organizations say the “unlisted” status heightens the risk of prolonged detention and rights violations. Without public oversight, they warn, poor conditions and blocked access to counsel can go unnoticed.
Environmental groups—while not focused on the Deportation Depot—continue to challenge Alligator Alcatraz over permits and environmental harm, arguing that rapid buildouts often skip safeguards. Those cases could influence how Florida expands or retrofits future sites.
Legal background and potential consequences
Florida’s approach is rooted in its 2023 law SB 1718, which broadened state authority to detain people for immigration violations and laid the groundwork for state-run detention. The first major test came with Alligator Alcatraz’s opening in June 2025; the Deportation Depot is the second.
Together they mark a major shift in who runs immigration detention in Florida, and they test how state-run centers will mesh with federal immigration courts and removal operations. As capacity grows, the stakes for families and due process will grow with it. Attorneys stress that early contact with a detained person can shape the entire case—especially if someone fears return to danger or has a viable claim to stay.
Without quick confirmation of location and a way to schedule legal visits, those claims can stall. Community groups in Baker County, a deeply conservative area, are split: many back the governor and President Trump’s policies, while others balk at detaining people only for immigration reasons. For now, the promise of local jobs and federal spending competes with the unease that comes with a large detention center in a rural county.
State officials say they are ready to scale if needed. The facility’s design allows more beds to come online fast, and leaders have made clear they plan to “put it to good use.” Critics counter that scaling a detention center without a basic system for public accountability is a recipe for mistakes. They predict lawsuits if access to counsel remains limited or if the state continues to withhold basic information about who is being held and why.
Looking ahead, Florida’s Deportation Depot could shape national policy. If the reimbursement model works, other states may follow, multiplying sites where public oversight varies and where the line between state and federal responsibility blurs. At the same time, legal battles around Alligator Alcatraz—especially over environmental compliance—could slow or alter expansion plans, depending on how courts rule in the coming weeks.
The bottom line for people with relatives inside is clear: keep records, call attorneys early, and expect delays confirming custody.
For those seeking documents, the DHS FOIA process can help, but it won’t give quick answers about day-to-day movement in a state-run detention center that does not publish a roster.
For now, the Deportation Depot in Florida stands as both a high-capacity enforcement tool and a test of how far a state can go in building a large immigration detention system without making basic information public.
This Article in a Nutshell
Florida opened Deportation Depot on August 14, 2025 at the former Baker Correctional Institution near Sanderson, roughly 45 miles west of Jacksonville. The site held 117 detainees by early September and offers an initial 1,300-bed capacity expandable to 2,000. Operated by the Florida Department of Emergency Management with possible National Guard support, officials say the state covered about $6 million in setup costs, expected to be reimbursed by the federal government. Advocates and lawyers warn the facility’s lack of a public detainee roster impedes family contact, attorney access, and external oversight. The center joins Alligator Alcatraz as part of Florida’s state-led expansion of immigration detention under SB 1718 (2023). Supporters emphasize security and fast intake; critics highlight transparency, due-process risks, and potential for prolonged detention without clear intake procedures. Federal backing could make Florida a model for other states, while ongoing legal and environmental challenges to similar sites may affect future expansion.
