Blogger: Wendy Lawton
Location: Books & Such Central Valley Office, CA
The post WWII years of the fifties are considered the decade of innocence. People still sat down as a family for dinner. Though televisions were making their way into homes, most people still read or played games in the evening. Some listened to radio programs. This insulated period was filled with hope. Jobs were plentiful. Houses and cars were relatively affordable. It was in this milieu that theme parks were birthed. The most famous, of course, was Disneyland, which opened its gates for the first time in 1955. Other theme parks began to sprout up. The one I remember was Santa’s Village in Scott’s Valley, California which opened in 1957. Interestingly, it was the first ever theme park franchise–there were other Santa’s Villages, one in Dundee, Illinois and another in Lake Arrowhead, California.
Our family could never have gone to Disneyland– it seemed like a world away–but I’ll never forget the day in 1958 my parents packed up our turquoise blue Ford station wagon and we made the fifty-mile trip to Santa’s Village. I don’t remember much about the park except that there were large sculptures of mushrooms and toadstools that we could climb on, lots of shops with toys, a candy shop and a North Pole made out of ice. Of course every child had to put his tongue on it and I was no exception. (Can you imagine the germs?)
I also remember my father being nervous the whole day because at Santa’s Village one never paid for anything. If you wanted a hot dog or a toy you just handed your “official Santa’s Village passport” to the clerk to mark the purchase. The owners wanted to “protect the magic” by never allowing money to change hands, so one didn’t pay until checkout at the end. This was before the age of credit cards and with our big family and modest means, I could see that it made it hard for my dad to feel the magic of Santa’s Village. By the time we checked out the bill was bigger than the budget, so my mother wrote a check. If I remember correctly, we ate frugally the rest of the month.
But as for a remembered place, it was such a rare treat, my brothers, sisters and I never forgot that day. The official Santa Claus at the village was an iconic Santa— a Danish actor respected for his professionalism. We were sure we had seen the real Santa and to this day, no Santa has ever measured up. I still feel somehow feels as if I visited Santa’s workshop once, a long time ago.The reason Santa’s Village– clearly a commercial venture– is a remembered Christmas place is that it represented an especially happy day in a happy childhood. A sacrifice on my parents’ part, but a rare treat that we often remembered together.
Do you remember any of your visits to Santa Claus?
Sharon Kirk Clifton
I never really believed in Santa Claus, but I loved the idea of that jolly old elf. Since we lived in the heart of our small central Indiana town, my path to and from school took me past the courthouse where a wee “Santa Cottage” stood between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Santa, assisted by “Mary Christmas,” held court there.
Each afternoon a long queue of children and parents wended down the sidewalk and curled around the corner. Several times each year, I would step to the end of that line and go through. Santa probably wondered why I squinted at him, but I was trying to see the man beyond his disguise. I played the game and give him my wish list, and then Mary Christmas handed me a whistle sucker, all the while giving me that “Haven’t you been here a few other times this year?” look. The sucker was what I really wanted.
The Santa in the shack did not sound at all like the Santa on WCTW. The latter’s voice was deep and jolly. He seemed genuinely interested in the children who called in their requests. Years later, that radio Santa became the publisher of a local weekly. He gave me my first writing job. He paid me to do what I loved. Imagine that! Merry Christmas!
Because of Christ
Wendy Lawton
Sharon, That is a Santa who gives a valuable gift! What a great story.
This year one of my clients sent me a Christmas ornament. It’s St. Nicholas kneeling before the baby Jesus. At first I thought it was an interesting mixed metaphor– Santa and our Savior. Fantasy and Truth. But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I love it. The historical St. Nicholas would have loved it as well- that’s what his life was all about.
So many Christians worry about letting children experience Santa Claus. I have no problem with Santa and the “magic” of Christmas. I’m a believer in the power of myth to lead people to Truth. And also in the fun of make-believe. Real things become more real over time and make-believe falls away but not until it has helped develop our imagination.
It reminds me of what C. S. Lewis said: “A man can no more diminish God’s glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word, ‘darkness’ on the walls of his cell.”
Truth will out. Jolly old elf or not. 🙂
Julane Hiebert
As a child, our Christmas tradition was to visit the tiny country church where my mother’s family worshiped, then we would go to the home of my Uncle, who still lived on the ‘home place’, for a family gathering.
The men of this church would ‘make’ the wonderful big Christmas tree which stood at the front of the small sanctuary. They would first find a tree, probably in someone’s shelterbelt of trees, then fill in any empty spaces with the branches of another–making one very large, and–in the eyes of a child–perfect tree. And under those fresh, spreading branches, loaded with paper chains and candles, would be gifts for everyone!!
The Christmas program always consisted of the same thing. Anyone could present a song, or poem, or memory, and always ended with any and every child in attendance acting out the Christmas story . No rehearsals, just everyone taking part, singing Carols, and more angels and shepherds than could fit on the tiny little stage.
Towards the end of the program, Santa would announce his arrival by tapping on the windows. Oh how excited we would be, his face first appearing in one window, then another, and another until he finally burst through the front doors!! Then he would hand out the presents . . . and no one ever went home without a special gift with his/her name on it. How he knew who would be there remained a mystery for many years.
We kept this tradition until my grandmother died in 1961. By then the families were getting so large it was hard to get everyone together at one time–the sale of the farm probably being the last we were all at the ‘home place’.
But I can still smell the freshness of that tree, still thrill with the memory of the family-packed sanctuary with voices raised in song, and smile at the remembrance of Santa Claus peeking in the church windows.
The appearance of that December icon never once diminished the true meaning of Christmas for me. And that little church, Ebenezer Methodist Church, still represents a magic time. . . oh the stories it could tell!!
Janet Ann Collins
I remember when I was three years old going shopping with my mother in New York City and visiting Santa in each store. I asked her how he could get from one store to another so fast and she replied those were just Santa’s representatives and the real Santa Claus was the spirit of Christmas. But what did that mean? I didn’t ask. Now I’m the author of Secret Service Saint, a book about how Saint Nicholas became known as Santa Claus by doing secret good deeds. As we celebrate the coming of Christ on Christmas, giving and love are the ‘spirit’ of his birth.
Wendy Lawton
What a beautiful story, Julane. It gives new meaning to the importance of being known by name.
Cheryl Malandrinos
Oh, Santa’s Land in Vermont was the place to go for us. It wasn’t the largest place or the most exciting, but I still remember going from time to time and making fun memories, and even being able to take my son there once. Sadly, it’s closed now, like so many other places I loved as a girl.
It’s so nice that you have us looking back again this week. We learn to appreciate the little things that meant so much to us.
Mary Keeley
Wendy, we share the memory with you, albeit across the miles. My children have happy memories of family fun at Santa’s Village in Dundee, Illinois. Happy times indeed.
Larry Carney
Such beautiful memories! In this busy season when the reason for the season is often overlooked, it is good to know that there is more to the day than reindeer.
(I, however, don’t have too many fond memories of the mall santas I encountered as a lad 😉 )
Charise
Oh– I never got to go to Santa’s Village. My grandfather was a fisherman in Santa Cruz and we drove by it all the time but I never got to go in (they probably were paying off a previous visit with those passports). I remember pressing my hands and nose to the car window for the glimpses from the road of that magical place. It’s gone now but you’ll still see a mushroom here and there when it was sold off.
I wrote Santa a note when I was 9 saying if I didn’t get a kitten I was not believing in him anymore. I didn’t get the kitten. He wrote back, but I stuck to my guns and didn’t believe after that.
I had a great friend who would grow the beard and play Santa. I had him come to my house when my daughter was about 6. She is 18 and told me recently that she always believed that was the real Santa. Even now she asks how we got the sleigh bell sounds on the roof (which we didn’t).
Diane Stortz
My family also visited Santa’s Village–it must have been the one at Lake Arrowhead. I was remembering this just the other day.
I know the Santa and baby Jesus that you mentioned in a comment also. Thought you might want to know about this picture book: http://www.amazon.com/Santas-Favorite-Story-Hisako-Aoki/dp/0833574140
Definitely agree with you about the role of imagination in the development of the capacity to have faith.
Thanks for these blog posts! Merry Christmas!
Wendy Lawton
Ooo, Diane. I love the illustrations. I think I’m going to add this one to my library.
Christopher Dearman
Wendy,
Thank you for sharing your memories about Santa’s Village! They were very interesting to me, because I actually published a book that collected the memories of former employees like myself of Santa’s Village a little while back.
While it primarily deals with the Dundee, IL park, it also includes history of the two sister parks as well with the Scotts Valley & Lake Arrowhead versions.
You can find more information about it here:
http://www.santasvillagegonewild.com
Please don’t be scared off by the title.It really is a love letter to the park. It’s filled with true stories that I guarantee will make you smile, laugh out loud, and maybe even shed a tear or two. Hall of Fame Santa Phillip Wenz (who worked at the park for over 20 years) was a big contributor to the book, and made sure I didn’t make things too “naughty.” 🙂
I hope you check it out! I think that you might enjoy it, and I’d love to hear what you think.
Christopher Dearman
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