More Pages from the Red Suit Diaries: A Real-Life Santa Shares Hopes, Dreams, and Childlike Faith
By Ed Butchart
4/5
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About this ebook
Readers who open this heartwarming book will find themselves transfixed. From the devastating loss of his beloved "Mrs. Claus" to revisiting old friends to making new ones, this Santa shares his experiences with readers looking for some Christmas spirit. Woven throughout is a faith--and a joy of giving--that energizes Butchart's mission to spread love to all kinds of children and adults. This fun-spirited, inspirational read will delight collectors of Christmas books and anyone who's a child at heart.
Ed Butchart
Ed Butchart has been Stone Mountain's offical Santa Claus in Atlanta, Georgia, for thirteen years. He also runs a year-round workshop and ministry, Friends of Disabled Adults and Children, which refurbishes wheelchairs and medical equipment for those in need. As president and founder, Butchart has helped change the lives of thousands.
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Reviews for More Pages from the Red Suit Diaries
21 ratings4 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A truly heartwarming book. I didn't want to put it down. What a wonderful way to explain Santa's place in the celebration of Christmas. I believe!
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5A bit too preachy and self-gloating for my taste, but it's a quick religious read about the real meaning of Christmas, from a man who played Santa Claus professionally and religiously. Some real stories that he encountered in his life were quite touching.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Ed decided to be a 'doer'. This is his story of giving to others with his gift of being Santa Claus and his and his wife's ministry of fixing wheelchairs.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This is a heartwarming book, full of true stories from a Santa helper of more than 20 years.I recommend this for all parents of kids a month prior to Christmas. The time lead will give parents enough time to get the important thoughts prior to preparing Christmas gifts.The author does not promote any store or purchases., He advises through the stories what is important in each gift, tailored to each child of Santa-admiring age.
Book preview
More Pages from the Red Suit Diaries - Ed Butchart
Author
Dear Diary
There have been a lot of things that have influenced my life as Santa, but none has had a more profound and personal impact than the death of my Annie, my wonderful Mrs. Claus. It was the winter of 2004. She had been sick for a long time and had been in the ICU four times in our twenty-one years together. A couple of those times, her doctors told me there was nothing more they could do for her. But with hard praying—and her amazingly strong will to live—her health improved and she was allowed to come home again.
This time, however, was different. She told me she just couldn’t pull off another miraculous recovery. She was simply too tired and weak to do it again. I begged her not to leave me. I told her I could not go on without her, and particularly could not go on being Santa. But she told me that I had to keep going. There were too many kids who believed in me, she said, and our love for Jesus demanded that I keep sharing that love with kids and adults. She told me not to mourn, because she knew where she was going and whom she would be with, and she wanted me to go on and be happy again. She slipped into a coma two days later and died on one of the most important days in our lives—Christmas.
The reaction of my family and friends was amazing. A good friend (and a fellow Santa) in High Point, North Carolina, sent me an email that said, Boy, don’t you know Annie had a glorious Christmas Day.
My oldest son, Paul, responded, That’s great, Dad. Now you have something else to celebrate on Christmas: Annie’s going home to heaven.
And that was so true. Annie was taken into the arms of Jesus, on the very day that we celebrate his birth. She was freed from all her pain, all the medications, and given a home in heaven on the day she and I had commemorated so many times in our Red Suits. We had always prayed that our portrayals would demonstrate God’s love for his people. I know her love did just that.
DIARY ONE
finding peace
Airbrake McGuirty
For several summers I’ve been playing a character in a replica 1870s town—called Crossroads Village—at the Atlanta area’s Stone Mountain Park, a historic theme park. My character is Airbrake McGuirty, a railroad engineer complete with requisite blue-and-white-striped overalls and hat. I was still grieving the loss of my Annie and found that going to Stone Mountain Park and becoming someone else for a few hours a day was good therapy. It helped me see that my life still had purpose.
Here’s how Airbrake was born. In 2000 the management company at Stone Mountain Park opened the first element of Crossroads Village—a hamburger restaurant—with a grand opening scheduled for Memorial Day weekend. The theme of the restaurant was a diner for railroad crews, and the creators wanted a character to act as a host and entertainer—to greet customers and make them feel at home. They handed me a pair of striped overalls, a matching hat, and a work shirt and asked if I could create a character. I added a bandana, work gloves, and a pump oilcan with a long spout—the kind railroad men used to keep the steam locomotives running smoothly.
Nobody told me exactly what I should do other than just entertain folks.
When the ribbon was cut and the first customers arrived, I stood by the door and greeted them and helped them decipher the menu and place their orders. I tried to keep it light, bantering back and forth in my Airbrake persona. But it was only a few moments before my beard caught some visitors’ attention. There was no way I could escape the Santa association. No matter how much I protested, I couldn’t avoid it. So I decided to make it part of the fun.
I was carrying the oilcan around but couldn’t figure out how to work it into my routine. When I spied the ketchup pump, inspiration hit me. I went into the kitchen, opened the oilcan, and poured it full of ketchup. I pumped it into the sink a few times to make sure it worked, then went back into the dining room.
I went up to a kid just about ready to bite into his hamburger and said, How are the French fries?
Before he could reply, I said, You need a little motor oil on them, don’t you think?
Just as I started to pump, his mom yelped. When she saw it was just ketchup, she laughed. I knew I had found my gimmick. It was an easy way to divert attention away from my beard.
Unfortunately, I didn’t wash out the can every night, and the acid in the tomatoes began to work on the metal parts of the pump. Soon the ketchup tasted terrible! So I put the gimmick aside for a few days. Then I found a homemade toy a friend had given me. He called it a hooey stick.
It was two pieces of wood of two different lengths. One was about a foot long and had a series of notches cut into its edges, with a small rectangular propeller attached at one end by a nail. The other piece of wood was about four inches long. The trick was to rub the small one along the notches on the big one and make the propeller turn. By skillful manipulation of the small stick, you could change the direction in which the propeller turned.
Kids and adults were amazed. They could not figure out how the contraption worked. To enhance the mystery, I would say the secret word
just before the propeller reversed direction. The secret word was hooey. And when someone asked me how it worked, I’d reply, It’s just a bunch of hooey!
That silly gimmick has worked for more than four years now, and it has brought a lot of fun into people’s lives, including my own.
I had a friend of mine produce five hundred hooey sticks. I packaged them in kits and sold them in Crossroads Village gift shops. Thanks to the generous management at the Park, all the proceeds went to my ministry, Friends of Disabled Adults and Children (FODAC). And anyone who bought one of the kits was entitled to one free hooey lesson from me.
The Adventures of Airbrake
Being Airbrake was and is wonderful therapy for me. It gives me a chance to have in-depth visits with a lot of folks. I walk along the queues where the people are waiting to board the trains and talk to folks about where they’re from and how they like the Park. Many people ask if I am Santa Claus. Most of the time I feign surprise that anyone would even make that connection. Then I add slyly, Come back at Christmas and find out.
I do have a few ploys for avoiding direct questions about Santa, and most of the time it works. I tell people, I’m not Santa; I’m the Easter Bunny!
Nobody believes that, of course, and I usually wind up whispering, Shhh, don’t tell anybody. I’m in disguise.
That will usually work until they board the train and are pulling out of the station. Then there is a chorus of Bye, Santa Claus!
from all the kids—and lots of the adults.
My primary job as Airbrake is to make the wait for the train seem shorter by entertaining with my hooey stick and engaging people in conversation. We host many international visitors, and it is always a treat to try to communicate with them. I do okay with Spanish, German, and American Sign Language. I’ve found that many Europeans speak German, so we can often find a connection there. But mostly I just blunder on and probably make a big fool of myself. But what the heck? I do that in English too.
Some fun happens when a kid or parent recognizes me because the person has seen me before as Stone Mountain’s Santa. And believe me, it’s hard to deny my Santa identity to anyone who’s seen me in my Red Suit.
Sometimes it can work in reverse. Once I was in my full Santa gear, eating at a wonderful seafood restaurant in High Point, North Carolina. A lady came up to my table and said, Hello, Santa. The last time I saw you, you were wearing a blue-and-white-striped outfit.
I was stunned. My goodness! How in the world did you recognize me?
By the twinkle in your eye!
she said.
What a wonderful compliment that was!
Many of the people we see at the theme park are with tour groups, and that adds a new dimension to our encounters. On one occasion there was a large crowd of tour folks waiting for the train, and I (now as Airbrake) asked if there were any rich widows in the group. To my surprise, four women raised their hands. I picked out a pretty lady in the middle and said, Tell me about it.
She answered, Well, I own my own home outright, and I have lots of money in the bank. I also have a brand-new Cadillac and a big monthly income.
I said, Wow! Would you marry me?
She laughed real loud and said, Are you kidding me? Marry you and mess all that up? Forget it!
The crowd roared and applauded. I couldn’t help but laugh myself.
Every afternoon at 5:30 all of the actors in the Park gather for the Sundown Social event at the gazebo in front of the train station. There is a lot of singing and dancing—and a huge amount of fun. It always ends with the Tennessee Waltz, and the audience is invited to join in. The characters choose partners from the audience while everyone else sways to the music. It’s a wonderful time. And it would be even better if I knew how to dance. The kids are often dancing right up front, watching me intently to see what I’m going to do. I did ask a staff member to dance one time, and we did okay, but I could