By Terry Dickson
The Florida Times-Union
CORAL GABLES, Fla. — As a fire chief, Freddy Howell can get into his turnout gear and on the truck in 30 seconds.
It takes him an hour to get into his other uniform, but there’s grease paint, a phony red nose and oversized shoes. It takes another hour to get his clown face off. A bride can get dressed for her wedding quicker.
Howell, the fire chief at Kings Bay Naval Submarine Base, is also Higbee the Clown. But don’t look for him at your local circus taking a pie in the face or riding in a Mini Cooper with 15 other clowns.
He works as Higbee to teach kids about fire safety and prevention, to avoid drugs and to wear seat belts and bicycle helmets. Even the name has a fire connection. The Higbee device on fire hose couplings helps firefighters keep from cross-threading them.
He does it in a way to get laughs, but that doesn’t always work. Sometimes he walks into a room and kids start screaming like they’ve seen a ghost or a department store Santa Claus.
A lot of people would go straight to the kid to show him there’s nothing to fear, but that’s like trying to drape a live boa constrictor around the neck of someone to help them get over their fear of rubber snakes. Howell just hangs back, does his act and before you know it, the kid’s coming for a clown hug.
“Just perform,” he said. “They’ll warm up.”
If you think people outgrow a fear of clowns, reconsider.
“I’ve had grown men and women do the same thing,” he said.
He and a bunch of other clowns were walking in the Savannah St. Patrick’s Day Parade one year and a woman crossed the street to get away from them.
“She said, ‘Y’all stay over there because I’m afraid of y’all,’'' Howell said.
People call sometimes and ask him to change into his clown outfit and drop by their husband’s office for about five minutes and hand out a few balloons for his birthday.
“That’s two hours for five minutes,” Howell said. “I tell them I’m sorry, but it’s not worth it.”
Clowns are supposed to be funny and spread joy, but that doesn’t always work. Once a year, he tries to get some people to smile who have every reason to cry.
The National Fallen Firefighters Foundation holds a weekend observance to honor those who have died in the line of duty. They invite their families, the moms, dads, wives, husbands and children of firefighters who lost their lives. It can add up fast when you figure there’s at least one and usually several for each state.
“It’s usually 110 kids, easy. It’s a somber weekend,” Howell said. “We try to brighten it up.”
As funny as he can be in his yellow hair, size 17 1/2 quadruple E clown shoes and pants so garish John Daly wouldn’t wear them, there’s an undercurrent of sadness. After all, it hasn’t been long since they were in a gathering where everyone wore black and now there’s a big emptiness where someone used to be.
He and the other clowns don’t always succeed in lifting everyone’s spirits, but the clowns’ antics draw smiles and the relays the kids run and the other games they play get their minds back on fun for awhile.
He started “clowning’’ in 1989 at the urging of Waycross Fire Marshal J.D. Rice, where Howell was working as a self-described “young buck firefighter.’'
Since then, he figures he’s taught 3,000 other firefighters how to put on the makeup and act silly to get a serious message across. He figures upwards of 90 percent of his students have tried it a few times and then quit.
“They get ragged on by other firefighters” and some can’t take that, Howell said.
Some would rather stand up in their uniforms and talk, but that can be intimidating.
“When you’re wearing a uniform and a badge, Some kids think you’re a policeman. Some have seen police officers carry off a relative, and they’re scared,’' Howell said.
He’s stuck with it and knows it works although it’s almost impossible to put a number on a life saved when someone walks out of a burning house.
“I know of seven or eight cases. One in St. Marys, a child got his little brother and sister out of a house fire. Their mother had left to run to the store. He learned that’s what you do,’' Howell said.
Who knew a man with yellow hair and a big, painted-on mouth could help save a life?
Copyright 2010 The Florida Times-Union