Uma Ramiah Photo
At 50 years old, Freddie FIxer found his footing again — in the shoes of white-gloved, red-felt-and-tassled-fez-hatted Robert Fluitt, who shuffled, hopped, stepped, danced and brought joy up and down Dixwell Avenue.
Fluitt did that from Hamden just to the edge of the Yale campus as he took part in New Haven’s annual Freddie Fixer Parade.
The original organizers of the parade 50 years ago invented the Freddie character during the urban renewal era as a force for litter pick-up and general neighborhood improvement. The parade mushroomed in size then waned since then. Sunday it started coming back with the help of enthusiasitc marchers like Fluitt, whose infectious grin and effervescent moves had the crowd falling in love and dancing along.
For the past half century (minus two years skipped for weather) Freddie Fixer has stood as a celebration of African American neighborhoods, culture and heritage for the Greater New Haven area. In some years past, the parade has turned to violence.
This year New Haven cops were out in force, at every corner: no major problems reported. Police officials spent the week coordinating detailed plans internally and with other groups in the community. The parade came off generally low-key yet upbeat. Various participants noted a different feel to the day: They appreciated the smaller size, more families and kids out on the street waiting for the floats and dancers, and a general feeling of security. Instead of thinking of Freddie Fixer as a parade where people might get hurt, they saw the event as a celebratory, positive community gathering beginning a rebirth. Fluitt helped make that happen.
The 48 year-old Yale-New Haven Hospital employee is a member of New Haven’s Prince Hall Shriners of Arabic Temple #40. Along with eight other Shriners, Fluitt marched along the parade route shouting out to familiar faces and breaking it down to James Brown and other classics the whole way.
He weaved across Dixwell, stopping in front of groups of kids to hand out candy before skipping back to the center line for a little more dancing.
Amidst all those concerns over safety and the potential of violence, parade watchers seemed to connect to his consistent, joyful movement and positive energy. Many joined in.
It was as if Fluitt was stepping the parade into the future.
He admitted that Freddie Fixer was still much smaller than it was in its heyday in the ‘80s and ‘90s before neighborhood violence mucked up the scene. He insisted the community is ready to put in the work necessary to slowly build the event back up to its former glory.
“Hopefully this year is the start of something new, a decreasing of violence in the neighborhood,” he said.
The parade saw step teams, floats, mascots like Mickey and Minnie Mouse, rappers, horsewomen, souped-up cars, motorcyclists and city officials walking through New Haven’s storied African American neighborhoods. The celebration tapered off at an invisible yet unmistakeable border just before Broadway and the Yale campus, where gowned students took over the streets celebrating graduation.