Edmund “B‑Wak” Comfort (pictured in red shirt), a former graffiti writer turned airbrush entrepreneur, was watching the Freddie Fixer Parade pass by Dixwell Plaza. “See,” Comfort said, pointing to a group of young men greeting each other with handshakes and pats on the back, “that’s love.”
Comfort was among the crowd lining Dixwell Avenue into downtown Sunday for the annual parade that culminates a week of community clean-up and charity events.
Comfort hung out in the plaza with his airbrushed canvas murals on the wall. On weekdays, Comfort shares his talent, and his understanding of business, with 10 teenagers in the Youth Continuum building on Grand Avenue. He said Freddie Fixer is an inspiration, and the parade is a source of pride in the community.
“You can’t walk down the street without giving daps to everybody you know” at the parade, Comfort said. “That’s love. It’s unity in the ‘hood, unity in the community. That’s what Freddie Fixer is about, and that’s what it’s gonna be like all day.” Comfort is a New Haven native and old- school hip-hopper from the Universal Zulu Nation, which in the 1980s attempted to organize a truce between youth gangs.
Click on the play arrow to watch video highlights of the parade shot by Tom Ficklin.
p(clear). Drill squads from Waterbury brought family members out to Dixwell for the annual parade. Pictured are the McKenna sisters — from left to right: Keyshia, Patricia, Puna, Charlene Fullenwiley, and Stephanie holding Savion. They came to see the Berkley Knights and Dynamic 54.
p(clear). Kirvanna Jones, a 15 year-old student at Career High School and leader in training at LEAP, passed out flyers to sign kids up for the group’s summer program.
p(clear). Sam Patrick, Eli Fields, Donnel Joyner, and Pop Hills (pictured from left to right) said they are nostalgic for the days when the parades attracted people from all over the country. “Back in the day, it used to be the biggest parade in the city,” Fields said. “You couldn’t even walk around here, it was packed. Everybody used to hang around after the parade and have cookouts and barbecues.”
p(clear). Some parents were upset by vendors selling toy guns and fake cigarettes at the parade.
p(clear). Diverous Godley went to get some balloons for his son. Godley’s son found the toy he wanted, a look-alike gun with an orange tip. Godley pulled his son away from the cart to watch the drill teams instead.
p(clear). “It’s not right to have a lot of toys, next to fake cigarettes, guns, and handcuffs. What is that promoting in our community?” Godley said. “My son said ‘But Dad, it’s just a toy.’ But I told him all it takes is one person to mistake it for a real gun and you can get killed.”
p(clear). Larry Stock was one of the street vendors from New York City who sold cartoon character balloons, makeup kits, and toy guns, toy cigarettes, and switchblade combs. When asked if he was aware that the Dixwell neighborhood was struggling to get rid of gun violence, Stock said the violence went away when they tore down the Elm Haven projects.
p(clear). “That don’t have nothing to do with gun violence,” said Montreal Godley, Diverous’s wife (pictured, wearing Orange), who is an activist at St. Mary√Ǭ¥s Church and a Yale-New Haven Hospital employee.
p(clear). “Why would you even sell that, bring that stuff out to the African American community event? We’re trying to get rid of that. It’s a shame,” Godley said. “Hopefully, every parade, from here on in, there won’t be no violence.”