Upgrading Christmas: From Merry to Legendary

by Fayeruz Regan 12.2021

Until this year, I thought I had been doing Christmas right. I’ve been taking my son to Richmond Ballet’s Nutcracker since he was two. He’s attended the Grand Illumination, met Father Christmas at Agecroft Hall, and rode the Dillwyn Santa Train. He spoke with Santa one-on-one as we chugged through the snowy countryside.

But it was recently brought to light that I had never taken my son to see the Legendary Santa. When my coworker used the term “legendary,” I assumed it was like how restaurants claim that their chili is “world famous,” though they couldn’t possibly all be world famous, if any.  

Coworkers passing by caught wind of my holiday travesty. There were audible gasps. They corrected me, saying that “Legendary” was his actual name – the brand. “How old is your son?” they asked. When I said seven, they exhaled, claiming there was still time. Little did they know that my son was questioning Santa’s girth in relation to the interior of our chimney, and recently declared that sitting on a stranger’s lap was creepy.

The Legendary Santa is a Richmond institution, starting in 1936 at downtown’s Miller and Rhoads department store. People wax nostalgic when discussing Miller and Rhoads. It seems to have lent some big city grandeur to our mid-sized town. Like a Fifth Avenue storefront in Manhattan, there were stunning window displays, seven floors of retail, and the Legendary Santa.

Miller and Rhodes transformed the seventh floor into “Santaland.” Lit trees lined the walkway that led to Santa’s red velvet throne. There was a fireplace, a Snow Queen, a talking pine tree named Bruce the Spruce, and most importantly, Santa knew every child’s name. “We would have lunch in the tea room that they set up. Santa would come down the chimney, drink a glass of milk, hold his belly and laugh out loud,” says Judy Kostyniuk, reminiscing about Santaland in the 1960s.

I thought this tradition had ended when Miller and Rhoads closed their doors in 1990. But after shifting to a few different locations, the big production has settled in at the Children’s Museum of Virginia. I have friends who are former employees of the museum, and their eyes go wide when describing the event. Not at the wonder of it, but the chaos.

Drama is nearly inevitable with such a large undertaking. The consensus is that the children aren’t the problem so much as parents, who are more likely to break into a tantrum. Before COVID-19, there weren’t appointments to see the Legendary Santa, and the lines were long. That, coupled with wriggling children and holiday stress made the cheery holiday music almost mocking.

“They forget that Santa, the Snow Queen and those running the show are real people. Once, Santa got very sick. He physically could not do the job, and parents were livid,” says a source. No one employed by the museum was willing to offer their name for the record. I find it charming that they want to protect the legacy.

Dan Rowe had been playing the Legendary Santa since 1966, when his brother Hansford retired from the job. After serving a half century as Santa, and getting inducted into the International Santa Claus Hall of Fame in 2011, he passed away in 2020. It made the news, which reached far and wide.

To give an idea of how beloved the Legendary Santa is, know that families have driven in from Texas for the experience. Former Richmonders wanted their offspring to experience the magic themselves. While it’s common for families to come in from Williamsburg and Roanoke for this tradition, you’ll find the occasional family that’s flown in from Colorado. “Going to see the Legendary Santa is a core memory for me,” says Sarah Hallett, a native Richmonder. “I take my kids in hopes that it will have the same lasting impression.”

Needless to say, I signed up. I hate the idea of missing out on a cultural phenomenon. I only went to prom so I could experience firsthand how disappointing it was.

I have a feeling that this is my son’s final year of Santa Claus, elves on shelves and all the Christmas magic that orbits small children. We had a great run, and it will end a skeptical seven year-old sitting on a stranger’s lap. At least that lap is legendary.