Seminoles’ rare court defeat could be a blueprint for others who sue the tribe
It took three years, but a management company has beat the Seminole Tribe in court, while possibly making it easier for others to successfully sue the tribe.

A nasty dispute over possession of a mobile home park has led to the Seminole Tribe suffering a rare defeat in court, while perhaps weakening Indian claims to sovereign immunity in future cases.

Thanks to a recent injunction from a federal judge, Hollywood Mobile Estates last week regained control of a mobile home park located steps from the tribe’s glitzy Hollywood-area casino. The private management firm had been forced off the property by the Seminoles three years ago, with no prior notice, and at gunpoint.
“They just showed up at the office, with the police, guns drawn,” remembered Nancy Gallagher, president of the mobile park’s homeowners’ association. “It was chaos.”

Hollywood Mobile Estates, which had long managed the park, was given an hour to pick up and go, Gallagher said. The Seminoles cited a litany of alleged lease violations that included desecration of a tribal cemetery.
The company left, but it didn’t take kindly to the Clint Eastwood-style eviction. A federal lawsuit soon followed.

After intense legal wrangling — and getting an earlier decision overturned on appeal — Hollywood Mobile Estates ultimately prevailed. The outcome may be precedent-setting, as other attorneys who have cases against the tribe are taking notice — and taking notes.

The Seminoles and other Indian tribes are usually near-impossible to sue because they enjoy a unique legal status as a sovereign nation. But in the trailer-park case, the courts found that sovereign immunity didn’t apply in a matter where tribal leaders were violating federal law.

The management lease for Hollywood Mobile Estates had been federally-approved, and the tribe’s unilateral breaking of the lease was therefore deemed illegal.

Attorney Bruce Rogow, who represented Hollywood Mobile Estates, said the judiciary in general has begun to question tribal sovereign immunity more frequently, and he suggested the Seminoles be careful not to overuse that defense, lest the backlash lead to judges eliminating sovereign immunity completely.

“The concern is that sovereign immunity being used as a shield is often times used unfairly, and so that is what creates the problem,” Rogow said.
Seminole Tribe spokesman Gary Bitner calls it “stretching” to view this one defeat as a sign of a judicial backlash, but others doing battle against the tribe now feel emboldened by the trailer-park outcome.

“It’s a potential game-changer,” said attorney Kenneth Whitman, who represents KnightTime Billiards. The pool hall, located within the Seminole Hard Rock casino complex, has a pending lawsuit against the tribe for unethical and unlawful business practices. Whitman said he is going to amend the suit to include the recent decision against the tribe.

In a written statement, Bitner said there were dozens of “serious lease violations” that prompted the tribe to take over the mobile home park in 2008: the property falling into disrepair, desecration of a tribal cemetery, and the refusal of the management company to develop or return a valuable 10-acre section of the property that could be developed commercially.

Hollywood Mobile Estates denies running afoul of the lease, and in a review of the matter, the federal Bureau of Indian Affairs found the Seminoles lacked legal grounds to break the lease.

The park is home to hundreds of non-Seminole families, and the old management team’s return has brought peace of mind to residents who worried the tribe might ultimately evict them, too.

Gallagher, the association president, said the tribe treated residents well but tribal leaders wouldn’t commit to letting the trailers stay there long-term.
Bitner said the mobile park comprises roughly 25 percent of the Seminoles’ Hollywood reservation, which he said suffers from a “severe housing shortage.”
Hollywood Mobile Estates, meanwhile, has vowed to let the residents stay until the end of its management lease, which runs until 2024.

“We don’t have to live with that fear any longer,” Gallagher said. “We’re all very happy they’re back.”

To beat the Seminoles in court, Rogow dusted off a 1908 Minnesota court case involving the sovereign immunity of states, which held that individual office-holders could be forced by the courts to halt any actions that violated federal law.

Rogow is well-respected in legal circles and teaches federal jurisdiction law at Nova Southeastern University. Rogow also knows Indian cases quite well — he worked for the Seminoles for close to 20 years.

Fort Lauderdale federal judge William Dimitrouleas initially dismissed Hollywood Mobile Estate’s lawsuit in 2009, citing sovereign immunity protections. But then an appeals court found that sovereign immunity did not apply in all aspects of the case, and Dimitrouleas got a second crack at it.

This time, the judge found the tribe’s legal defenses “without merit,” and granted an injunction ordering the Seminoles to vacate the premises. Last week, the tribe did exactly that, though Hollywood Mobile Estates’ victory is a bit short of complete.

For about three years, the Seminoles collected rents that would have normally gone to the management company. The tribe successfully employed its sovereign immunity defense to prevent being forced to pay back rent or other damages to Hollywood Mobile Estates. And under the terms of the lease, the Seminoles have always collected 15 percent of the rental revenues, and will continue to do so.
Dan Adkins, vice president of Hartman & Tyner, a Michigan company that’s a partner in Hollywood Mobile Estates, said the company lost between $7 million and $9 million in rent during the last three years, and also spent about $1 million in legal fees. Hartman & Tyner also owns the Mardi Gras Casino in Hallandale Beach.

“At least, in the end, it was a victory for due process,” Adkins said. “I would hope that they would have learned from this, that they just can’t continue to basically bully people.”

Attorney Rogow still has a fondness for the tribe, thanks to his many years spent representing it. Rogow’s office features Seminole memorabilia, and the attorney’s son once spent a summer working as an alligator wrestler on the reservation. Citing a recent leadership shake-up on the Seminole Tribal Council — in which James Billie reclaimed the chairman’s title after an eight-year absence — Rogow expressed optimism that the tribe’s business tactics would change as well.
Rogow said his winning legal strategy is “only a precedent if it has to be used again, and my hope would be that it doesn’t have to be used again.”