By Sue Anne Pressley
Washington Post Staff Writer

MIAMI, June 1 –– The waving Cuban and American flags were back. So were the T-shirts with the slogan, "Elian, My Friend, Miami Is With You," the Elian
license plates for sale, the prayer huddles in the middle of the street.

But this time, the tone was different. Many in the crowd of about 75 milling around today outside the empty Little Havana house where young Elian Gonzalez lived
for five months seemed almost resigned to losing the boy to communist Cuba and Fidel Castro. Many said they no longer trusted the U.S. government or the
American judiciary to do what they considered right, and they had not really expected the 11th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals to grant the child an asylum hearing.

"I just wanted to be here no matter what happens," said Lazaro Astengo, 27, an unemployed security guard and karate teacher who came to the United States 20
years ago. "You can see people have lost hope here today. Everything is going opposite of what we thought. What else can we expect? Only the worst."

Elian's great-uncle Lazaro Gonzalez, his 21-year-old cousin Marisleysis, and the other relatives who cared for the boy in the small white rental house on Northwest
Second Street vacated the house shortly after the April 22 raid in which federal agents seized the youngster. The family's memories of the time there with Elian were
too painful, said spokesman Armando Gutierrez.

Elian has been staying with his Cuban father in Washington awaiting the court's decision.

For Cuban American supporters who kept vigil round the clock during the long months of legal wrangling over the shipwrecked child's future, the house has become
a focal point for frustration and sadness. Today, they mourned what could only be described as a resounding defeat.

Cuban exile leaders and Miami police, however, said they did not foresee a repeat of the mass demonstrations that rocked Little Havana on April 22. The protests,
which led to rock throwing and angry skirmishes with police, resulted in more than 350 arrests.

Many in the crowd had feared the boy would board a plane for Cuba as early as today, but that possibility was forestalled when the appeals court extended an
order prohibiting Elian's departure for 14 days to allow Miami relatives time to appeal.

"I do not expect any violence at this point," said Jose Basulto, leader of the exile group Brothers to the Rescue. "This is going to generate deep resentment. . . . But
we're calling for people to remain calm."

Miami Police Lt. Bill Schwartz also urged restraint, saying police were taking a "laid-back" approach.

"It's calm," Schwartz said. "It's about what we expected. Well, some people are upset, of course."

Those people turned toward the waiting television cameras, shouting angrily in Spanish and jabbing the air with their index fingers. One new group, calling itself the
Cuban Force, urged Cuban Americans to withdraw their funds from U.S. banks. But by late afternoon, many of them had packed up and left the vicinity of the
house, dispirited.

"My parents taught me what it is like in Cuba," said Jennifer Guerra, 18, a student at Miami-Dade Community College. "We've been standing here for five months,
screaming, to tell the American people what is going on. And they came here [on April 22], and they gassed us, and they treated us like pigs. They care more about
diplomatic affairs than the freedom of a child."

Special correspondent Catharine Skipp contributed to this report.