![]() |
||
| An Immokalee Icon Barbara Linstrom-Arnold |
||
|
When Fred N. Thomas Jr. arrived in Immokalee nearly two decades ago to serve as executive director of the Collier County Public Housing Authority, he assimilated nicely thanks to his love for the outdoors. Of course, his business acumen and résumé, which includes leadership posts as public housing director in Tampa, Indiana and Virginia, also made for a good match. But as a well-educated African American with roots in Harlem, he hardly fit the rural Immokalee mold-except for his love of hunting and fishing, which explains his lifetime membership in the National Rifle Association. Benny Starling, a veteran farmer and executive director of the Immokalee Chamber of Commerce, is amazed by Thomas' stature in the community. "Against all the odds-from ethnic to being a Northerner to coming into a basic redneck community-Fred Thomas has single-handedly done more for Immokalee than anybody else I know of," says Starling. And while many refer to him as the unofficial mayor of Immokalee, Thomas is quick to assert that he is not a public official any longer. "I'm more of an ambassador," he says. "But I sell Immokalee better than anybody sells Immokalee, because to sell Immokalee you've got to love it and you've got to respect it." With active participation in 15 civic and professional organizations, the 65-year-old has hardly slowed down since retiring in 2002 after 16 years with the housing authority. He is, among other things, enjoying the freedom to speak his mind. "For 37 years of public service, I had to monitor what I said. Now I can say what I want to whom I want the way I want," he professes. For example, he's critical of those in Collier County outside of Immokalee who treat it like a second-class community. Known for his bold presence at county commission and board of education meetings, Thomas has gained a solid reputation. However, he has no interest in running for office, despite pleas of some neighbors, he says. "Every community should have a spokesperson as articulate and passionate as Fred Thomas," says Collier County Commissioner Jim Coletta. "As an elected official, I have come to rely on him as a close friend and trusted adviser. Whenever a political decision is made regarding Immokalee, you can rest assured that he has played a part in it." Thomas' commitment to civic duty makes up nearly three pages of his five-page résumé. Currently he is chairman of the Immokalee Community Development Advisory Board, president of the board of the Big Cypress Wilderness Institute, vice president of the board for the Redlands Christian Migrant Association, a Rotary Club member and a member of the Collier County Republican Executive Committee. Priority: Education As an ardent supporter of education, Thomas fumes when talking about teacher's salaries. "We need to ensure that the best and the brightest among us are teaching our kids-and we are not doing that," he says. His passion for the subject comes from his mother, who insisted on the best education for her children. Testing in elementary school revealed that Thomas had an IQ of 138. That score, along with his big brother's score of 146, prompted their mother to insist on the best education possible. And that led to his immersion in different cultures. Thomas and his brother traveled from their home in a Harlem public housing project to a predominantly Jewish school across town. Further testing led to his placement in an academically advanced, virtually all-white high school. On a partial scholarship, he next landed in Washington, D.C., at Howard University, where he studied chemistry. More of a people person than a bookworm, Thomas left college after a few years to widen his horizons. The year was 1960. "I did the Route 66 thing," he says. His travels took him clear to California. Somewhere along the way, he realized that he had a knack for sales, and he quickly became a crew leader selling magazine subscriptions. "While other guys were selling 12 subscriptions a day, I wasn't into that nickel-and-dime approach of door to door," he says. "I went to the doctors' offices and the libraries and renewed all their subscriptions." But just making money for the sake of making money didn't interest Thomas. "You have to feel good about what you're doing. Making money is one thing, but it's empty if you can't be proud of it," he says. "And you have to have an impact." He eventually returned to college to work on completing his degree so he could properly care for his future family. While studying psychology at Norfolk State College in Virginia, Thomas lived in public housing. When he graduated in 1967, the director of public housing was so impressed that one of his tenants had earned a Bachelor of Arts that he hired Thomas to serve as tenant relations adviser. The experience shaped Thomas' commitment to public housing. SWEET HOME IMMOKALEE During his tenure with the Collier County authority, Thomas grew public housing in Immokalee from 250 units to 641. And in full-circle style, he handed over the reins to a former female tenant of the projects. Thomas takes pride in his community, relishing its unique cultural make-up and especially the tidy, bright pastel-hued homes of the farm-worker village, a housing project developed under his watch. He does voice frustration, however, in how the town is perceived. "In Naples, people just do not appreciate or respect Immokalee," he says. "They don't see that there's so much potential here in so many ways." Viewing the multicultural benefits of a community with Hispanics, Haitians and a sprinkling of "American whites and American blacks," Thomas sees tremendous possibility in Immokalee. "There's a synergy here that was unheard of before," he says. "All these different cultures are working together." As chairman of the Master Plan and Visioning Committee and the Immok-alee Redevelopment Council, Thomas sees a bright future for the community. His dream is to develop a strong industrial base around Immokalee's airport and to encourage a thriving high-end ecotourism market. "I would also work on getting all the businesses on Main Street to develop a venue that encourages tourists to stop," he says. "They could walk from the casino and get a hamburger from five different cultures." Thomas is also eyeing the positive impact of the construction of Ave Maria University on the edge of town. "Their students can learn from our cultures, and we can provide workers for their retail establishments," he says. Having lived in Immokalee far longer than he's lived anywhere else, Thomas is woven thoroughly into the community fabric."I think this is the greatest place in the world to grow and prosper," he says. |
||