In the quaint town of Albion, N.Y., signs adorn windows and billboards with a simple, yet powerful message: “Believe.” The mantra encapsulates the legacy of its most beloved figure: Charles W. Howard.
Howard’s name might not ring a bell at first, but chances are if you’ve ever been enchanted by a Christmas movie or watched the sparkle in your child’s eye while they sat on Santa’s lap, he’s inspired your holiday, whether you realize it or not.
Following World War II, Howard was a living testament to the Christmas spirit, setting the modern benchmark we associate with St. Nick today. For nearly 20 years, millions watched him ring in the season as the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade‘s iconic Santa Claus, a title he held from 1948, which was the parade’s second national broadcast on NBC, to 1965. He died the following year at the age of 69.
“Charlie didn’t have a lot of money, but he had a huge heart,” Sue Starkweather, Albion’s historian, tells Yahoo Entertainment. “His messages about kindness and generosity were important for the country to hear during that time. It showed us that you didn’t need a lot of material things to do the right thing.”
For many, Howard wasn’t just a representation of Christmas. He was Santa Claus.
“He not only felt that children deserved better, but that they should learn from Santa the true meaning of giving,” says Starkweather. “He wasn’t playing a role. He truly believed these things.”
From the farm to 34th Street
Born on a farm in Albion in 1896, Howard’s first go at playing Santa was in his fourth grade school play.
As an adult, he became a toymaker by trade, working at various department stores in upstate New York building toys and impressive displays. He also wowed audiences with his own creations, which included a miniature 10,000-gallon replica of Niagara Falls filled with apple cider.
“He was ahead of his time for a lot of things,” Jane Holland, Howard’s granddaughter, 62, tells Yahoo Entertainment. “He was just as creative as Walt Disney, in my opinion.”
While mastering the art of toy-making, Howard soon took notice of the number of Santas he felt were “unprofessional and unkept, not displaying the heart of what a Santa should be,” read a book about Howard that was digitized by SUNY Brockport.
He thought he could do better — and he did.
Howard put the red suit back on and instantly became a surprise Christmas hit locally. Before long, he was taking his own St. Nick to department stores across the state to high demand.
His Santa was so beloved that a reporter from the Buffalo Courier Express suggested he start a school for aspiring Santas. In 1937, at the age of 41, he founded the Charles W. Howard Santa School, the world’s longest-operating school that, to date, has trained hundreds of Santas across the U.S. and abroad.
A major aspect of the school was teaching courses on child psychology, how to act appropriately at parties and media appearances, Christmas history and shaping one’s facial expressions.
“How are you going to make your eyes twinkle? How are you going to let the children know what you’re thinking and feeling?” Starkweather recalls of the school’s teachings. “Charlie was a professional. He was very particular and he wanted things to be just so. He had high expectations for everyone who took his courses.”
Miracle on 34th Street
The school’s reputation only added to Howard’s demand, and soon, Hollywood came calling. He was hired to serve as technical director for the 1947 film Miracle on 34th Street, teaching actor Edmund Gwenn how to walk, act, talk and even breathe like Santa.
Written by Valentine Davies, the film centers on an old man named Kris Kringle (Gwenn) who fills in for a drunk Santa in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. He becomes a surprise hit and later professes to be the real Santa Claus, leading to a court case to determine his authenticity.
Howard was already on Macy’s radar, given that numerous other department stores at the time — including J.L. Hudson’s, Foley’s, Nieman-Marcus, Dillard’s — were all sending students and executives to train at what was known as the “Harvard of Santa Schools.”
Soon after the film wrapped, he was invited to be Macy’s lead Santa for the 1948 Thanksgiving Day Parade. And, much like the film, he wowed audiences instantly and continued the role for the next 17 years.
The King of Christmas
Howard used the national exposure, including appearances on the Johnny Carson and Jack Parson shows, not only to spread cheer, but to bring Christmas magic to the masses.
In 1953, two years before Disneyland first opened, Howard built the long-forgotten Christmas Park in Albion, N.Y. An amusement park with holiday attractions including castles, reindeer petting zoos, a 40-foot bell tower, paddle boats, fishing ponds and a train that ran around the property and through a magical tunnel. It welcomed over 80,000 annual visitors in its heyday, before closing for good in 1966, the year of his death.
Over the years, the park received tens of thousands of letters from children across the country, many of which are kept in the city’s archives.
“Dear Santa, I have been a good boy. Would you bring me some Christmas toys?” one letter reads. “Dear Santa, For Christmas I want a truck and a gun and a tractor and also bring something for my two brothers,” reads another.
“It was fascinating as a kid to go. It was magical,” Holland remembers of the park. “There was a big wooden book you’d sign when you entered, asking you if you were ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ He had mechanical things moving all around the toy shop, like flying helicopters, that went around a big tree. You could stand there for hours.”
‘The biggest gift he gave was hope’
Howard’s legacy extends beyond just Santa. In many ways, Holland says, he wasn’t just her grandfather — he was also the nation’s.
“I remember being so excited to go to my grandparents house,” she recalls. “We couldn’t wait to get on his lap and give him a big hug. He was warm, approachable and brought something special out of us. And, he always wore Old Spice.”
For all the kids who’ve ever believed in Santa, Holland adds, “It’s really not the persona of Santa we take with us. What we carry inside us, really, is his character. My grandpa was a giving, loving person. It was never about him, it was always about what he could do to make somebody else happy or make somebody else smile.”
That includes paying routine visits to kids in the hospital, or playing Santa for those who were physically unable to go out and visit him at stores. “The biggest gift he gave was hope,” she explains. “That’s what we really take with us.”
“Santa still does live here,” Starkweather says of Howard’s hometown of Albion. “His spirit still lives on with so many of us in that one simple phrase: ‘Believe.'”
