By: W.C. Reader

The phone rang a couple of weeks ago, awakening us from a deep dream of peace. When we answered, it was the editor, and he told us he wanted to send us on a special assignment. That brought us wide-awake, because a special assignment usually means work, and that is something that usually doesn't impress a lazy-inclined reporter. But out of courtesy, we asked him what he had in mind. He said that recently he had received a few letters from Scrooge-type people, casting doubt on the existence of Santa Claus, and berating us newspaper people for printing stories about him. We know we were being "canned" when he went on to say that he wanted to put this controversy to rest, once and for all, and the one person he could think of who could handle the job was us. (County Boy) because of our propensity to separate truth from fiction (ahem!).

With a buildup like that, how could we refuse, so we asked, "When do we leave?" "Right now", he answered, saying a helicopter would land on the landing pad at Kaiser Hospital within the hour, pick us up, and take of immediately, for the North Pole. After we arrived, we were to observe what was going on up there at this time of the year, and then report back to him. Then he hung up.

That gave us barely enough time to kiss Mama Doris goodbye because the 'copter already had landed. Then we grabbed one of our Korean War footlockers which was filled with winter clothing, hopped aboard the aircraft with it, and we were on our way to the top of the world.

The first part of our flight took us over the Western United States, Canada, and Alaska. But then we slipped into a terrain that was blanketed with snow and ice, had no trees, and very few animals appeared. We knew we soon would be approaching the North Pole, so we asked the pilot and navigator to turn their heads while we slipped into our winter clothing, fully expecting to get out and walk around when - and if - we arrived.

Suddenly the navigator said we should be over the North Pole. Almost immediately, he let out a big war whoop and told us to look straight down. We did as told, and there before us was one of the largest buildings we ever saw, all lit, and with thousands of elves running in and out with all kinds of materials. We told the pilot to land on what appeared to be a small landing field, and when he started to do so, who else but Frosty the snowman came running up, waving flags at us and yelling "Pull up! Pull up! Only reindeer and sleighs are allowed to land here!" We did as told, and not to soon either because, right behind us was a team of reindeer pulling a sleigh and coming in for a landing. They did this several times and it was obvious they were practicing for landings on rooftops. And leading them in each was a single reindeer with a shiny nose. It was Rudolph!

Next, we told the pilot to get closer to the big building so we could look in and see what was going on. What a sight! In one side of the interior were hundreds of elves making every imaginable kind of toy. On the other side was what appeared to be an assembly line. A big, fat roly-poly man in a red suit seemed to be in charge, no doubt Santa Claus. He had thousands of letters in boxes beside him, and he was separating them into two piles, one for those marked "NAUGHTY" and one for those marked "NICE". Those letters in the "NICE" pile were sent down the assembly line where elves picked them up, read them, and then filled big, red stockings to be put aboard Santa’s sleigh. Those marked "NAUGHTY" were sent over to a bank of telephones operators who were calling home to the writer's parents, listening intently, writing something on the envelope, and then sending it back to Santa.

Ever so often, Santa Claus would stop the assembly line, go outside, crawl in the sleigh, and take off for a practice run with Rudolph leading the way. Listening carefully, we could hear him hollering "Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas to All!" Guess he didn't want to forget his lines.

Taking our last turn around the building, we noticed a pleasant little old lady standing at an ironing board, brushing soot off of a red, fur-covered suit and then ironing it. Appears Santa had been practicing going up and down chimneys, and Mrs. Santa wanted him to look good when he takes off on his travel around the world on Christmas Eve.

And with that, we turned our 'copter around and headed for home, arriving at our starting point about 24 hours later. We filed our story with the editor, and basically it said: "Everything is all right up at the North Pole. Santa Claus and his staff have everything under control, and you boys and girls can expect him over your house at sometime after midnight on Christmas, December 25."

Then we went home, sat down, and joined Dear Mama Doris in drinking a cup of chocolate. Then we asked her to join us in saying to all of you:

"Ho! Ho! Ho!

Merry Christmas to all,

And to all a 'Good Night'"! - Country Boy and Mama Doris

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