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France won't take in Haitian-born man (Lionel Jean-Baptiste - lost his U.S. Citizenship)

Every night Lionel Jean-Baptiste goes to sleep, he hopes to wake up to a normal life again and that everything that has happened was just a bad dream.

But then harsh reality sets in. Jean-Baptiste's continued stay at the Krome detention center in West Miami-Dade is a metaphor for his life of hope and despair.

A refugee from one of the world's poorest countries, Jean-Baptiste survived a tragic sea voyage from Haiti, became a successful Miami restaurant owner, a U.S. citizen -- and then a man without a country when he was convicted of selling crack cocaine and lost his citizenship.

His American dream has turned into an immigration nightmare.

''Every day when I wake up I see myself here and I feel like I'm in hell,'' Jean-Baptiste told The Miami Herald Friday during his first interview since federal immigration officers detained him June 14.

Haiti-born Jean-Baptiste, 58, is the first naturalized American in more than 40 years to have his citizenship revoked after a drug-trafficking conviction. On Oct. 31, Haiti refused to take him back because he had renounced his Haitian citizenship when he swore allegiance to the United States.

Now, the United States is attempting to expel Jean-Baptiste to France -- but an official at the French consulate in Miami said Friday that the French consul turned down the request from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

Jean Baptiste said immigration officials told him that if Paris rejected the request, the United States would turn next to the Dominican Republic.

Barbara Gonzalez, a Miami spokeswoman for U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, said: ``Our obligation as a law enforcement agency is to carry out orders of removal as issued by immigration judges.''

Jean-Baptiste said he see-saws between hope and despair about his chances of avoiding deportation, getting out of Krome and back to his family that includes his wife Raymonde and children Sydney, 11, Naomi, 21, Pierre Richard, 30, Ronald, 35 and Lionel, 38.

Jean-Baptiste said his hopes soared when he heard Haiti would not take him back. He thought release was imminent since the U.S. Supreme Court has ruled that foreign nationals who cannot be deported must not be held indefinitely.

''I fell into despair when I got this letter Wednesday,'' he added. The letter states officials intend to remove him ``to an alternate country, specifically France, of which you are a citizen''

The French consulate official said French authorities had ''no proof'' Jean-Baptiste was a citizen of France, and that as a result, he cannot be accepted. U.S. officials said the allusion to French citizenship was a mistake in the letter.

Jean-Baptiste told his story during the hour-long interview in Krome, ironically the same detention facility where he was first held for about five weeks in 1980 after he and dozens of other refugees were rescued when their overloaded boat capsized en route to South Florida.

There were 155 people on the boat when it left Haiti but only about 95 survived, he said. Upon release, Jean-Baptiste worked in a series of odd-jobs until he landed a job as cashier in a Little Haiti restaurant he eventually came to own.

After becoming a legal resident, Jean-Baptiste brought his wife and three Haitian-born children. Two more were born here.

Jean-Baptiste's biggest success, the restaurant, was also the scene of his downfall.

It was there that in March 1995, about five months after applying for citizenship, Jean-Baptiste was approached by a woman -- an undercover Miami police detective who at the time was working for a federal narcotics task force.

Jean-Baptiste said the woman asked to buy two ounces of cocaine. When he replied that he didn't sell drugs, the woman left the restaurant.

'Then she came back and asked `Where can she find or buy drugs?' '' he said. ``I went outside and pointed somewhere where she can actually purchase the drugs.''

Jean-Baptiste, who maintained he was innocent throughout the trial, said he was just trying to be helpful, not because he was an accomplice of the drug peddlers.

A year later, Jean-Baptiste became a U.S. citizen. Six months later, he was indicted and arrested. He pleaded not guilty but was convicted at trial. He served seven years in prison.

While still in prison, he received an immigration service letter advising him that his citizenship would be revoked.

Eventually a federal judge stripped him of his citizenship. An appeals court upheld the decision, the Supreme Court refused to hear the case -- and Jean-Baptiste became immigration history.

Back at Krome, Jean-Baptiste is hoping no country will take him and that immigration officials will be forced to release him even if it is under supervised conditions.

He also wants to know why immigration authorities targeted him when his arrest and conviction occurred after he became a citizen. The case departs from normal practice under which immigration generally moves to revoke naturalization when an applicant has lied about his past. But in Jean-Baptiste's case, there were no accusations he had committed a crime at the time of his citizenship interview.

''All I want to know is why?'' Jean-Baptiste asked plaintively. ``I don't understand why this is happening.''