Starting in 1956, the Florida Legislative Investigative Committee—led by Sen. Charley Johns—used anti-communist hysteria to target integrationists, academics, civil rights leaders, and LGBTQ+ Floridians. Cloaked in the rhetoric of protecting “the American Way,” the committee wielded unconstitutional tactics: secret interrogations, entrapment, and threats of expulsion, job loss, or criminal prosecution.
When Rev. George Ziemer, a Miami pastor, publicly accused the local ACLU chapter of communist ties and called them “atheist pinks” for blocking distribution of Bibles in Dade County schools, chapter chairman Richard B. Royce pushed back:
“Our only interest is to maintain all civil liberties, including freedom of religion. We insist on a wall separating church and state.”
Amid this climate of fear, we organized. The Florida Civil Liberties Union—what would become the ACLU of Florida—was born in direct response to this abuse of power, standing up for free expression and defending the rights of Floridians against surveillance and intimidation.
For decades, Miami police routinely arrested people experiencing homelessness, especially during high-profile events like the Orange Bowl and Super Bowl. These “sweeps” polished the city’s image but left countless people jailed and stripped of their belongings.
In 1988, the ACLU filed a lawsuit on behalf of nearly 5,000 unhoused residents. Four years later, U.S. District Judge C. Clyde Atkins ruled in Pottinger v. City of Miami that the city’s practices were unconstitutional, ordering the creation of safe zones free from police harassment. A decade later, mediation secured compensation for those unlawfully arrested or deprived of property.
Though the Pottinger protections were terminated in 2019 after being in effect for twenty years, the case left a lasting legacy that reshaped policing practices nationwide and spurred the creation of housing programs and social services to assist people experiencing homelessness.
Though the Pottinger protections were terminated in 2019 after more than two decades, the case left a lasting legacy. It reshaped policing practices nationwide and spurred the creation of housing programs and social services to assist people experiencing homelessness.
“Without a doubt, it changed the City of Miami’s policies for how it works with this most vulnerable community,” said Benjamin Waxman, cooperating attorney with the law firm Black, Srebnick, Kornspan & Stumpf, P.A.
Daniel Tilley, legal director at the ACLU of Florida, added: “Criminalizing homelessness is not the answer. We will take note of Miami’s response to this ruling.”
While no longer in effect, the case affirmed a vital principle: constitutional rights belong to all people, including the most vulnerable.
When Governor Ron DeSantis delayed calling special elections after two legislative resignations in 2024, Floridians were left without representation. We went to court to hold him accountable and to ensure every voter’s voice was protected.
This was not an isolated incident. We had already sued DeSantis in 2021 and 2023 for similar failures—part of a troubling pattern of undermining democratic participation. In both those cases he left communities waiting for weeks without lawful representation.
“I don’t understand why the governor resists calling special elections in a timely manner,” said ACLU staff attorney Nicholas Warren. “From Jeb Bush to Rick Scott, past governors moved quickly to ensure the people retained their voice. DeSantis’s refusal to do so is both troubling and illegal.”
By stepping in, we reinforced a simple truth: accountability in government matters. Democracy requires that voters decide who represents them.