The Miracle on Western Avenue

by Pat Ostrom

Many of my friends have encouraged me to relieve my experience of being Santa's helper and elf during many Christmases in Chicago.

I believe these happens and stores are true experiences in spirituality or the humanitarian side of people. They help show that humanitarian acts in our lifetime can make the world a better place. Although these experiences take place in Chicago, they can happen -- and are repeated -- all over the world.

To the men and women of Chicago and the Toys for Tots organization and its support unit -- you are my family. We are a group with unique characteristics and individual traits that, when woven together, make this world a better place for kids at Christmas time. In the process we've shared peace and goodwill with many forgotten children - who all thought Santa had forgotten them. When we visit them, help entertain them and see their response, it also cheers us and forms a bond among us.

For them and for me - this is the real deal, and Santa is my hero.

Chapter 1

When I was growing up, Christmas time was considered the season of the child -- or being childlike. It was a time of expectations and visions of wonderful things to come. But in reality, life isn't always this imaginary bowl of holly jolly.

There were many times when Santa didn't stop at our house. But my mom managed to get a few gifts from the local 5 and 10 cent store - the precursor of the dollar stores. Dad was a rolling stone and did as he pleased, choosing his own interests over his family. We were lucky once in a while that our extended family would pitch in for our Christmas needs such as a tree or a train set. Oh how I remember my joy at seeing the steam come out of the engine and hearing the sound of the whistle as it circled the tree time after time.

There was one Christmas that turned me off from thinking that the holiday season was a time of joy. It was Christmas Eve in 1963. After a great day at my aunt's house, helping her put up a tree and decorations, she dropped me off at home. When I walked in I realized my dad had been drinking again, this time more than usual. He obviously was feeling pressured about the holiday and trying to buy Christmas gifts. But suddenly there was the sound of breaking glass, he had smashed the liquor bottle on the coffee table and then without warning began attacking my mother, sister, and me. It was a devastating experience.

When I saw my dad raise the broken bottle toward my sister I yelled at my dad and ran to help my sister but he pushed me into our shiny aluminum tree- the trendy tree of that era. Seeing the broken bottle and the liquor running off the coffee table, I feared more terror. But at that point, my dad passed out on the couch and I ran and hid in my bedroom the rest of Christmas Eve.

As if nothing happened, my mom, my sister and I spent Christmas Day with relatives opening gifts and relaxing, knowing that our dad was at home sleeping off his drunken stupor from the night before. Although we spent a quiet day with relatives and were thankful for that, the "beast" of Christmas had been created - with the images of the night before forever etched in my mind. There were many other days like this, however, with my dad giving in to the need for his pills and his alcohol, eventually it all caught up with him and he died less than a year later.

From that point in my life, I hated the Christmas season. So when it rolled around each year, I ignored it, suppressing any hint of the holiday spirit and denying any belief in Santa.

But in December of 1988, just as I was walking out of a supermarket near Roscoe and Western Avenue in Chicago I heard the sound of motorcycles roaring down Western Avenue. It sounded like a roar of thunder. I watched in amazement for several minutes as the child in my thought, "Wow, Santa's coming to town with hundreds of helpers!"

This opened my eyes and my mind to realizing that you can be a kid again - to see, to believe in Santa and to regain the spirit of Christmas and yuletide festivities. My soul had been touched and the quest was on. I wondered how, were, and when a biker like me could make connections with this parade of helpers. It took me almost two years to find the information and to get up the nerve to join them. I had learned that it was really pretty easy -- all you needed to do to be in the parade was show up at the Dan Ryan Woods on the first Saturday of December with a toy and be ready to ride in the parade.

So in December of 1990 I showed up with my Blue Knights Brothers at Dan Ryan Woods, but there were no crowds, just a trailer to drop off the toys. Why had this happened? It was the year of Desert Storm Operation and the parade had been cancelled, but the collection was still on.

I hung around anyhow for a while, but no crowds or cast of Santa's on bikes ever appeared. I left the woods with my Blue Knight Brothers. We stopped for coffee and then headed home. Just like a kid disappointed again at Christmas -- I was almost in tears. There was no parade or Santa on his Harley this Christmas and I felt like the joy of Christmas had once again been taken away from me.

The next year, 1991, I connected with other bikers who hooked me up with the Toys for Tots Support Unit. I attended meetings and realized my calling to help the needy kids that this group served. Going to one of the TFT meetings is like being at a United Nations meeting of biker communities. There is no "I" or "me" attitude but an understanding that we are all one unit - united we stand, divided we fall.

At the meetings any negative and positive views and different opinions are talked out well before the day of the parade. It takes every ounce of effort to make this event happen in a "Toy Story, Chicago-style." We always kept in mind that in a family you will have problems to resolve. For us we knew we had to do that so we could have the greatest motorcycle Christmas parade in America.

Motorcyclists come from all over for the parade. They ride from Midwest states or trailer their cycles from Canada just to be in the Toys for Tots Parade in  Chicago. I've seen license plates from Wisconsin, Indiana, and Michigan.

Why do they come? To give back to their roots as children growing up with a visit from Santa Claus each year and the many seasons of Christmas that have come and gone in their lifetimes. The riders come to recapture their inner child. Thousands of these "children" resurface each year on Chicago's Western Avenue as the travel with the U.S. Marine Corps Reserves. They greet their brothers and sisters in the biker community. Many of them have a sort of trademark on their bikes with signs like "Deck the Hog with Christmas Folly," or unique creatures fastened to their motorcycles. You gotta love it!

But when we all drop off the toys for the forgotten children of Chicagoland there is a sense of pride and great emotion that comes from giving the spirit of Christmas. When we're all gathered together as humanitarians taking time out in this fast-paced world, time slows down a bit to let society, view, listen and observe the motorcycle community in a different way - as Americans giving something back. Yes, every December in Chicago "Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Man" prevails through this event.

Chapter 2 - Santa Claus Lands -- The Miracle on Western Avenue Continues

When I joined the Toys for Tots Support Unit they asked me what I wanted or was I able to do for the organization - anything from crowd or traffic control to media relations such as taking photos of the events along the parade route. I remember being asked if I'd ever taken photos in a motorcycle sidecar. When I said no, little did I know the surprise I had coming. Taking still photos is one things, but taking them turned backwards riding in a sidecar is NOT easy.

My first venture with this was in 1991 when I was hooked up with a biker called Crazy Ernie of the Lost Souls Group. The name should have been a clue. He asked me if I'd ever ridden in a sidecar and then gave me the ride of my life. The first mile Ernie put the sidecar up in the air. Yep, I was facing backwards as the motorcycle tilted 40 degrees.

Most of my photos that year were not great quality and pretty blurry, but lessons learned don't come cheap. So the next year I was given a new driver and was more prepared. I filmed the parade as it progressed and got great results. Some people even asked me how I did it. I was turned backward on my knees in a praying position and holding my camera steady and in focus. Plus, faith and mind over matter played a big role in it.

That was easy compared to a few years later when they decided to strap me onto the ladder of a fire truck to get better photos. That was the worst ride of my life. I was laying flat on my stomach, strapped at the chest to the top of the ladder with no room to raise my body. But maybe that was a good thing as we passed under viaducts and train overpasses. The people watching the parade on Western Avenue were looking up at me with an "are you crazy?" expression on their faces. That adventure gave me really lousy pictures and a badly bruised body. Thankfully that's all that happened to me.

But the best thing about this event...year after year...is seeing Santa in his bright red suit riding a Harley. It's one of the greatest sights one can enjoy...this jolly man in his red suit cruising down the boulevard giving the citizens of Chicago the thrill of a lifetime. You can actually hear the crowd chanting, " Here comes Santa Claus" all the way down Western Avenue as he passes by.

Making Miracles

When I first started taking pictures for this event. I witnessed one of the first miracles of being a Santa's Helper. On this parade day Santa whipped his Harley into a u-turn on  Western Avenue. As he did so, his eyes caught a young lady in a wheelchair. Her eyes light up with joy as Santa's two-wheeled sled landed right in front of her. It was the kind of joy most children have as they meet Santa. This young girl was being driven around by her grandfather, who briefly explained the girl's condition and situation to Santa. After the quick exchange of greetings Santa had to continue his role of leading the parade on the route that we call Santa Claus Lane.

The next year, Santa made sure he found the young girl in the wheel chair on Western Avenue. When he did, he pulled out a special gift that was the start of a new life for her. He gave her a beautiful ballerina doll and told her that some day this will be her. With that he gave her grandfather a list of phone numbers of specialists he could call to evaluate the girl's condition...to see if she could ever walk again.

We learned that the grandfather followed through. He set up appointments for medical testing for the aspiring ballerina. And the news was wonderful. The tests showed that with some of today's modern medicine and physical therapy this young gal had a chance of being able to walk...and dance.

The next year, I looked for this young lady in the wheelchair on Santa Claus Lane. But she wasn't there. But Santa knew what was happening. He'd been in touch with her grandfather and was keeping track of her condition and progress.

Two years later when we passed the corner where she used to be, there she was. Not in a wheelchair but standing and waving the ballerina doll for Santa and the rest of us. Santa pulled over, made a stop and smiled and waved to her. I couldn't believe my eyes.

We found out later that her grandfather passed away just as she finished her journey to recovery and the miracle of being able to walk and dance. It remains a wonderful memory for me. Although we never have seen her again on the parade route. Santa knows that she is doing well, walking and continuing to make progress toward her goal of being a ballerina.

People often ask me "Who's Santa, Really?" I tell them he's your brother, uncle, godfather or anyone you want. To me Santa is a hero from the past living in the present. He leads us into helping, giving, listening to the less fortunate, not just at Christmas time but all year long. In my eye's  he's like my childhood hero Roy Rogers. But Santa rides on a Harley instead of a Golden Palomino, and the North Pole is really the Double Bar Ranch!

Chapter 3-Being Adopted as Santa's Helper

Each year after Toys for Tots motorcycle parade ends the work begins of collecting toys from other resources besides the parade. Friends and family frequently ask me what they can do to help. I always respond that they can buy toys for the needy kids, but not to go crazy on spending money on the toys. The TFT support unit members put together parties at local restaurants and clubs to get more toys into the hands of the neediest children in the Chicago area. About 12 years ago Santa needed help delivering toys. But one of the challenges was that many of these children have no place to call home. They may be homeless or come from broken home, are hospitalized with terminal illnesses and or children with special needs being cared for outside of the home environment.

Indeed, Santa labels this time of delivering toys the Twelve Days of Christmas for good reason. I had no idea what I was getting into. I thought I would be following Santa around dropping off toys. The Santa team makes sure every stop has the right amount of toys, gifts and candy for all age brackets and that Santa doesn't have to ask twice where the toys are. Everyone does his or her share to help Jolly Ole St. Nick.

It took me a couple of years to adjust to the operation, but now Santa and I wouldn't miss it for the world. We work hard but we kid around a lot, and our antics are almost like " The Three Stooges."

One year when it was show time for Santa, a snowstorm had dumped at least three feet of snow and we had to do handoffs of toys and baskets...just like a relay team...to get the gifts inside the building where the children were waiting. We carried laundry baskets filled with goodies up two or three flights of stairs, acting like " The Three Stooges", huffing and puffing all the way up the stairs.

Did we pass our stress tests for those days? I think so, because we're still doing it today. I was proud to be one of the stooges in this troop. This was definitely a White Christmas, I will never forget.

Everywhere Christmas lights, decorations and inflatable, Santa Clauses were covered with snow, just like at the North Pole. Everything glowed at night when the lights were turned on. You could hear the elves singing in the background " Who Let the Elves Out, Who Let The Elves Out"... our own version of the rap song " Who Let The Dogs Out." It was a lot of hard work and fun all wrapped into one glorious time being Santa's Helper in Toys for Tots land.

When the public sees us at Christmas time they view us like a blast from the past, from movies such as "It's a Wonderful Life" or " Miracle on 34th Street." Most of the adults like me are Baby Boomers who saw those movies countless times when growing up and carry that tradition to this day. I guess today's kids have that same feeling about " Toy Story" and "Bad Santa."

After the tragedy of September 11th, 2001 the requests for Christmas gifts changed. Kids were asking for fire trucks and police cars because they saw so many of these and America's heroes who saved so many during those tragic days. Kids idolized the police, firefighters and rescue workers at the Trade Center and Pentagon. The devastation the children felt from 9-11 carried through to their Christmas that year as they wondered if there was going to be a Christmas with Santa. But that year the Toys for Tots Support Unit continued the Christmas tradition with an even greater feeling and yuletide spirit of giving and helping.

With the terror of September 11th still impacting American life, we were not going to put Christmas on hold. I felt the spirit of Santa Claus bringing children and adults together in the belief that our life in the United States would go on despite the terrorist threats. With Santa we traveled through downtown Chicago to State Street, bringing our merry mayhem of a Christmas chorale to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. Our tunes stopped the public in their tracks. They looked at us like Santa and his elves had been locked up too long at the North Pole. Maybe a little Swedish Glogg would have helped sweeten the harmony. We were working together to bring the spirit of the season to children, to make them laugh with our antics.

Whenever members of the support units were out in public, at stores or restaurants wearing their Toys for Tots jackets ordinary people would ask how they could help. I always replied by encouraging them to buy a toy at the Dollar Store or one of the local retailers. I'd remind them that if you bring a one toy, that means at least one more child wouldn't be forgotten. Without that toy I'd have nothing to help a child smile. People would Thank me for helping these kids in need, which made me feel really good inside.

One time I was at a gas station wearing my TFT jacket and a minister walked up to me asking if I was part of the Toys for Tots group. My first thought was, " Oh boy, where is this encounter going?" When I responded yes, the minister said he was from a small congregation in South Elgin, IL, and started shaking my hand to Thanks me for our support. He told me a story about  Marine Corps volunteers who brought toys to his church and made Christmas much brighter for many kids in his parish. He said it would not have happened without their support and asked me if I could come down to talk to his congregation about giving to the community and why I got involved. As I was shaking in my boots, I responded that I really wouldn't want to speak in front of a large crowd. Besides, I told him I would be concerned if I spoke to them and then we didn't have a lot of toys to bring to those kids that year. I would feel terrible about that, with that he said he understood and offered me his blessing. I felt I've been blessed many times by traveling down this path with life if inner solitude and peace...and that's all I need.

Chapter 4-Santa Tour 2004

Sometimes we know our destination as a helper in Operation Santa, but sometimes we don't. The operation in 2004 was special for me because I was chosen to take pictures, and create instant photo's for the families as a small extra gift for them to enjoy. That year I has more than a few smiles acting as a special visitor from the North Pole with Santa.

As one particular child was lined up to see the Jolly old man in the red suit I asked for his name and age so I could introduce him to Santa, just as I did with all the kids. Usually I'd say something like "Santa, here's Joey, age 10. He wants to be a firefighter." This gives Santa a chance to start a conversation with the child while I get ready with the camera and a chance to capture a million dollar smile.

But sometimes the child doesn't smile because he or she is shy or afraid of Santa if it's the first time meeting him. I hope it works on the first try, but will keep cheering the child on to get a photo that the parents can enjoy. I still take the child's picture if they are crying or staring at Santa because it's still a remembrance of this short moment in a child's Christmas. It's something the parents can share with the child as he or she grows up.

Let's face it, at age 52, I'm still hanging with Santa and the elves. Did I forget to grow up or am I in my second childhood and enjoying it more than the first? Sometimes I'd snap a photo of a child who isn't cooperating because I don't want one child to not have a photo from Santa's helper.

At one stop, I shot photo's of 300 kids. In the middle of the event I started mixing the photo's of Joseph  with those of Jose and the parents began to realize what was happening. That's when Santa pointed his finger at me to fix the problem. I felt like a blundering fool with a camera, but I took my mistake in stride and regrouped the photo's in the right order. doing it all with a silly smile to keep things upbeat.

The best time for me is when the kids leave and I have requests from Mom's, nurses, teachers and other adults to take pictures of them on Santa's lap. Yes, Santa has that magical ability to bring grown men and woman back to their childhood if only for a moment. It's one of those private moments when I whisper to one of the other elves that I take some of those photo's of the ladies with Santa and send them postage due to Mrs. Claus at the North Pole. That always gets a laugh.

Chapter 5- Toy Story 2005

One school we visited was a public school for physically challenged. One child who caught my eye was unbelievable. I was bringing toys to set up in our assigned classroom. I spotted a young lady moving down the hall at a very steady pace and with great speed. As my eyes glanced at her, I noticed with bewilderment that this child had no legs! She was a special angel traveling with special crutches that had square pads at the bottom. Watching her move with no struggle or visible discomfort deeply touched me. She was indeed a child of God.

My second encounter at this school was a four year old girl with physical and mental challenges. Her legs were curved and she was in a special walker wearing special shoes. She had very little strength and was pushing herself forward with the sides of her feet. This little friend glanced into the room to see Santa sitting in his North Pole chair. As she eyed him, she pushed her way slowly toward him, sporting a smile that opens your heart when you see it. Santa spent more time with her and she rewarded him with the biggest thank you ever. It was something you felt in your heart. She moved to the hallway and watched Santa visit with her other classmates. The big guy in the red suit would wave to her between each of his visits with the other children. For Santa and this little girl a comfortable bond had been created that lives on in each of their hearts.

Chapter 6 - A Few More Miracles

One stop for us was a new hospital in the Southwest part of the Chicagoland area. It had a new wing for children and on this Sunday morning we were cautioned by staff not to be our usual jolly selves. They wanted us to be quiet and keep our backs to the wall to let the staff in and out of the rooms while Santa was rocking and rolling between rooms.

As Santa was going down the hall a three year old child hooked up to an oxygen machine was walking in the hall with his mom and a nurse. The little boy was struggling and had the look of having been through the mill. I watched his wobbly knees slowly making a path to his room. But when he saw Santa, he bolted down the hall with his portable IV feed and oxygen hook up. His mom and the nurse began running with him towards Santa. As the child reached to Santa he stared up at the large man in the red suit and smiled.

At that moment I turned to another helper, a huge biker guy, and we both started crying with tears of joy! I never witnessed such an event before in my life and I've seen a lot in my 52 years on this planet. This, I felt, was my reward for being part of the Toys for Tots Support Unit.

I had to calm myself down and stop my tears so I could continue my work of making the stops for other children in this new hospital. For the rest of that stop we reached out with our hearts as we passed along the toys to the kids and their families.

Two years ago on a visit to a University of Illinois-Chicago Hospital, our group was on the fifth floor with Santa making his room visits, when one young lady in her early teens got out of bed and limped to the door to see what was going on. She was curious and wanted to see Santa, but not in person. I helped her walk about ten feet, but by then she was weak, so I helped her back to her room. The nurse told me this was the most response that the girl had given to anything since her cancer treatments, which had left her bald. I made sure that Santa visited her room and told Santa how much she wanted to see him, but not in person. I needed to let Santa make his way into this child's heart. Being in a hospital at Christmas and terminally ill was traumatic for her. Anyone would ask, "Why me?" Santa, the toys, the elves costume, our offbeat stooge antics, and sense of humor were the best we could offer her in this cold uncaring world.

Thank You Santa!

Pat Man

#434

TO BE CONTINUED......