Photograph by Skye Dunlap
Naughty or Nice?: Willow Glen Elementary pupil Brooke Lucero tells Santa Claus (John Meeks) that she wants an Easy Bake Oven for Christmas this year. Meeks has been the school's Santa for five years.
Subbing for Santa Claus
'Until you put on that red suit, you're just a regular guy-but everyone knows Santa.'
--Steve Yoppini
By Jessica Lyons
John Meeks sits on one of four grown-up chairs in Deborah Robertson's kindergarten class at Willow Glen Elementary. He's wearing furry red pants, and the outline of a pillow protrudes from his matching red coat. Shiny white hair and a beard billow out from under a Santa hat. Meeks sits facing the 19 squirming schoolchildren.
"Who's first?" he asks.
Tiny hands shoot into the air.
Robertson explains to the children that each will get a turn to sit on Santa's lap and tell him what he or she wants for Christmas. They will also each get their picture taken with Santa.
It's Miranda Ashlock's turn, and she runs over to Santa.
"What do you want for Christmas, Miranda?" Santa asks the little red-haired girl.
"An Anastasia music box," she replies. "It's at the mall, at Oakridge."
David Vandonzel, a serious little boy who folds his hands as he sits on Santa's lap, says he wants a dog.
"What kind of dog?" Santa asks.
"A Dalmatian," David says.
"We'll have to talk to your mom and dad about that, okay?"
"Okay. Merry Christmas," David says.
Meeks, 54, has been the elementary school's Santa for the past five years. A member of the Willow Glen Sunrisers Kiwanis Club, he's also Santa for the Willow Glen Senior Center.
"It's fun to do, meeting the kids, listening to the things they want," Meeks says. "But some are heartwrenching. One year, one kid asked for a Christmas tree."
After all the 5- and 6-year-olds take their turns, Santa and the 19 kindergartners sing "Up on the Housetop." Santa shakes his belly during each "ho, ho, ho" refrain.
"All of you have a very merry Christmas, hug your moms and dads and be very good," Santa instructs, before going to the next class.
I'm not sure who it's more magical for--Santa or his tiny subjects.
Scrambling to meet his Dec. 25 deadline, December can be a pretty busy time for ol' Kris Kringle. So he relies heavily on kind-hearted helpers, like Meeks, and at least three other Santas throughout Willow Glen.
A Regular Guy
Steve Yoppini remembers the exact day he became the jolly old elf. He had been asked to play the role for a Christmas party. Walking to the party, dressed in plush red robes, Yoppini heard two young voices yelling at him from a nearby car window. "Santa, Santa, over here," they screamed.
"And then I realized--hey, that's me," Yoppini says. "It's amazing because until you put on that red suit, you're just a regular guy, but everyone knows Santa."
His 5-year gig as Schallenberger Elementary's very own Santa Claus followed shortly thereafter. "My children were going to school there, and I happened to have the Santa suit," he explains.
His daughter, Taren, is now a sixth-grader at Willow Glen Middle School, and his son, Kaelan, is a sophomore at Willow Glen High School. "They have since moved up a few grades, but I'll probably end up doing it for Schallenberger for a couple more years, anyway," Yoppini says.
Smiling at the memory, Yoppini leans back in his metal chair at Willow Glen Coffee Roasting Co. He is wearing jeans and a navy hooded sweatshirt, and he doesn't seem ready to give up his alter ego anytime soon.
At 48, Yoppini is a young Santa, with graying blond hair and a short beard. But he's got the warm, deep voice, he's over 6 feet tall, and he projects a larger-than-life presence that seems to go with the red-and-white attire.
The kindergartners are his favorites, he says. They all hug him, and ask questions like "How's the weather at the North Pole?" They expect an honest answer. Some only ask for one Christmas present, but some kids can go on about their wish list for 20 minutes.
"The kindergartners still believe," Yoppini says.
One week from today, he'll don the suit and visit Schallenberger's kindergarten to fifth-grade classes. There's only one criterion, he says. "You have to know what all the hottest toys are."
You don't, however, have to know the names of Dasher, Prancer and Vixen's six counterparts. Yoppini still doesn't.
Photograph by Skye Dunlap
Santa's Helpers: Glen Muir, Steve Yoppini and Paulette and Tony Ornellas (left to right) pose in the Ornellas' home on Minnesota Avenue.
Mr. and Mrs. Claus
Another Willow Glen Santa, Tony Ornellas, says kids visit Santa at 1195 Minnesota Ave. for a different reason: They come to see Santa's better half (also known as Tony's wife, Paulette Ornellas).
"The best thing is to see Mrs. Claus," says Tony, 57. Santa sits in his front yard and hands out candy canes to local kids. Mrs. Claus keeps him on his toes.
"Mrs. Claus comes over to Santa's chair, and they are both here, but Mrs. Claus is always picking on him. 'Santa, did you shine your boots? Santa, tuck your shirt in!'"
They also come for the elaborate lights--some 50,000 of them--that brilliantly decorate the Ornellas' house, porch, trees and a dozen or so hedge animals.
Santa's Helper
It's a cold afternoon in early December, and the man sitting at a table outside Jamba Juice looks like he could be the real thing.
Glen Muir, 62, doesn't make any special appearances as Father Christmas. But he only cuts his hair and beard once a year, the week after Christmas, and on the first Monday after Thanksgiving--and on every day following until Christmas--he puts on a red T-shirt, black suspenders and a red Santa hat. It becomes his everyday uniform, which he wears to work, to the grocery store and even out to dinner.
Today Muir's beard is about five inches past his chin. It's wavy, and streaked with blond. Most important, it's real.
"I do wish it was whiter," he admits.
He's rather lean, too, for a Santa.
"Actually, I've tried to lose some weight," he says.
Two small boys follow their mom into Noah's Bagels, but their eyes don't leave Muir's face. The younger boy's mouth hangs open, and his eyes look like saucers. His older brother smiles knowingly. Muir doesn't turn to look at them, but he's subtly conscious of their stares. He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake.
Muir and his wife, Micki, were eating dinner in a restaurant last weekend when one of the servers brought over a folded up note.
"It said, 'Dear Santa--a Barbie and a kitty' in a 5-year-old's handwriting," Muir says. "A little while later a 5-year-old girl and her big brother came over. She didn't say much, she was really quiet, but finally her brother said, 'My sister wants to know if you're the real Santa.' I said, 'No, I'm just a helper.' That's all I ever say.
"I just do it for the fun of it, to see people's reactions," he continues. "I'd like to think I brighten their day a little bit. Maybe I put a smile on their face when they are having a bad day."
Even with the threat of rain, and the holiday traffic, it's hard not to smile in the presence of Muir. The interview is over when he remembers one last essential detail.
"I almost forgot to tell you," Muir says. "The little girl's name is Megan, and her brother is Nathaniel."
Santa never forgets.
Willow Glen, California Since 1992
