Indiana, that is.
Now come on, who could resist a sign like that? We couldn't. Twice.
The first time, on our way from St. Louis, Missouri to Boondocks, Ohio, we went in search of a moment from Craig's childhood. When he was eight or nine, his parents took him and his younger brother Carl to the tiny town in Indiana named for that superhero of more innocent times. Craig's dad was a good guide and explorer on their family vacations, seeking out places he knew his family would enjoy. Craig and I have already retraced some of the steps they took, and he was eager to have an adult look at this childhood memory.
The trouble is, it wasn't there.
Instead of the sweet village he remembered, all we found was a humongous roller coaster theme park called Holiday World, with parking lots the size of the Great Lakes packed full of cars, trams crammed with families being delivered from myriad motels and cabins surrounding the park, and a horizon looped with coasters of every size and shape.
We stopped at the main sign and drove up and down a couple of side roads, but to no avail.
We couldn't find it. We commiserated over time's erasure of precious places and continued on our way.
Later, when Craig posted the experience on facebook, several readers said, yes, it is still there, that quaint homage to Christmas past. So on our westward tour back to Missouri, we pulled off the highway once more to search more closely.
And sure enough, it is there, tucked safely away behind the carparks and coasters, quietly continuing its traditions for those believers who care to come.
The twenty-two foot statue of Santa Claus, dedicated on Christmas day 1935, sits up on a rise, keeping watch over the three little buildings below. St. Paul's Santa Claus Church (don't ask me, I don't get it either) was built in 1880.
We loved the place, but then, we're both still eight year olds at heart.
Glass cases inside the museum are filled with toys from decades long gone.
Still intact is the set at which many thousands of children were photographed with Santa.
For four decades, Santa was Raymond James "Jim" Yellig, a man born and raised in the nearby village of Mariah Hill. Jim's story is a fairy tale in itself. He had his first taste of Being Santa while in the Navy during World War I, when he and his shipmates, docked in Brooklyn, decided to throw a Christmas party for the underprivileged children in the area. As he was from near Santa Claus, Indiana, the crew chose him to be Santa. Touched deeply by the experience, he promised that if he made it through the war safely, he would "forever be Santa Claus".
As lives do, Jim's moved on after the Navy, with marriage and work taking time and priority. He and his wife lived in Chicago for a while, then, in 1930, moved back to his Indiana hometown to open a restaurant. A few years later, Jim's good friend, the postmaster in Santa Claus, enlisted his help in answering the letters that children addressed to Santa, which the postal service delivered by the satchel to the town post office.
Jim rediscovered his passion. Shortly afterward, he began dressing as Santa for the children who came to visit Santa Claus Land, becoming so famous as his alter-ego that he even appeared on "What's My Line". Jim Yellig spent over half his life doing his particular service to the world, dying in 1984 at the age of 90. He was inducted into the International Santa Claus Hall of Fame in 2010.
On the wall are the most recent of the children's letters to Santa, some received in the mail, some written right here.
These two are from the Santa Claus Land website:
I read another from a little boy suggesting that, since they didn't have a fireplace any more, Santa come in through the dryer vent; and one from a little girl listing her and her sister's clothing and shoe sizes. There are many poignant letters in the collection, too, asking for a home or a job for mom.
Here in Santa Claus Land, the requests keep on coming in.
I wasn't sure why I decided to post this now instead of in a few months, but now I think I know. Maybe, with nearly a four month lead time 'til December 25th, we can think about this:
Because Santa is alive to the children, and I'll bet we can all figure out a way to help him out.
Awww... I'm a sucker for a sweet story. Thanks, Candice.
Posted by: Maria Lee | August 30, 2015 at 07:23 AM