December 15, 2024 • 13 mins
Based on the true Christmas story of the annual CSX Santa Claus Special train, bringing Santa Claus by rail to remote Appalachian communities.
Additional reading:
Guide to Seeing the CSX Santa Train
For more strange Southern folktales, including stories not on the podcast, visit https://themoonlitroad.com
Follow us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/themoonlitroad and X/Twitter https://www.x.com/themoonlitroad
"The Santa Claus Special" was written and directed by Craig Dominey
Storyteller: Jim McAmis
Audio Production: Henry Howard
Santa Claus Clinchfield Train photo courtesy of the Kingsport Chamber of Commerce.
The Moonlit Road Podcast is a production of The Moonlit Road, LLC.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:05):
(Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) The Moonlit Road presents the Santa Claus Special,
written by Craig Dominey and told by Jim
McCamus.
Now I'm going to tell you all a
Christmas story, but before I do, I have
a word of warning for all you adults
(00:25):
in the room.
I'm about to let you in on a
little secret that might change your life.
It might change the way you look at
the world, make you question everything you've been
told and everything you believe in.
Are you ready?
Well, in here goes.
Despite what your parents may have told you,
there is a real Santa Claus.
(00:48):
And I should know, because I've seen him
myself.
Now before you think I'm absolutely nuts, let
me tell you a little bit about myself.
I was born in 1937, deep in the
remote mountains of southwestern Virginia.
Even as a very young boy, I remember
how big and rocky those mountains were.
Our tiny two-room cabin clung to the
(01:09):
mountainside like a crow perched on a tree
limb.
The soil was so hard and barren that
nobody could make a decent living growing crops.
If you ever saw where we lived, you
might wonder why we didn't just get up
and leave.
Daddy moved us there for two reasons.
To be close to the relatives and to
(01:30):
work the coal mines.
Daddy's family had worked in the mines for
years, so when he was old enough, he
grabbed a shovel and went to work.
Of course, back then, a lot of work
was done by hand.
Daddy would frequently come home and fall fast
asleep on the couch from exhaustion.
But though we didn't have much, he provided
everything we needed to live.
(01:51):
One day, Daddy was told he had to
go off and fight for our country in
some place I'd never heard of.
After he left, my older brothers and sisters
would read his letters aloud that he sent
back from these real exotic-sounding places.
But one day, the letters stopped coming.
Mama worried herself sick until the day some
(02:13):
military men showed up on our doorstep.
My Daddy was killed in battle, they said.
But rest assured, he had died bravely.
So Mama was faced with the hard job
of raising my brothers and sisters and me
alone.
She could barely pay our bills, but there
was really nowhere else we could go.
(02:33):
We all slept in the same room and
there was barely enough food to make it
through the day.
When winter came, the bitterly cold winds would
blow through the holes in the walls and
we'd huddle up against one another to keep
warm.
But we had many happy days, more than
some families I know.
I guess if you don't know what you're
missing, then what you've got is good enough.
(02:57):
Like I said, where we grew up was
very remote.
There was only one winding dirt road which
led into the mining town and it took
so long to get there that we'd take
combined trips with our neighbors to get supplies.
Now when I say town, I ain't talking
New York City here.
Our town had about three buildings, a bank,
(03:19):
a barbershop, and a company store.
But to me, going to town was an
adventure, for it was my only contact with
the outside world.
I remember Christmas being a very special time
for us.
All the families would decorate the local church
and fix these huge dinners.
We'd sing and laugh and have the biggest
(03:41):
snowball fights you ever saw.
And on Sunday, our own family would make
a special trip to the cemetery to decorate
Daddy's grave with Christmas flowers and ribbons.
We figured he ought to celebrate with us,
for Mama always said that he was still
around, even though we couldn't see him.
(04:02):
As you may imagine, there wasn't much gift
giving going on in our neck of the
woods.
In fact, I really didn't know that people
gave gifts during Christmas.
That is, until I made a trip to
town one day, saw a funny sight in
the store window, a picture of a jolly
old man in a red suit jumping down
a chimney with what looked like a bag
(04:24):
full of presents.
Who's that?
I asked Mama, pointing at the picture.
Nothing, honey, she said, quickly turning me away.
It's just a picture.
Well, me being four years old at the
time, that answer wasn't nearly good enough.
Every time we'd pass that store, I'd tug
Mama's sleeve and ask over and over again,
(04:44):
Who's that man?
And I began to notice that she was
very reluctant to answer.
In fact, it got to the point where
we had avoided the store altogether, and she
had sent one of my older brothers in
to get whatever we needed.
But one Christmas, I eventually wore her down.
The mining town was filled with even more
pictures of this mysterious old man, and I
(05:05):
could barely contain my curiosity.
So when I asked again, this was the
answer my Mama gave me.
His name is Santa Claus, dear.
It's just a Christmas story, some folks tell.
He's not a real person.
I believed her at first, but then I
started hearing other things at school.
And when we'd go into town, I'd sneak
(05:28):
a look at some of the Christmas magazines
and books.
I learned that for someone who supposedly isn't
real, an awful lot of people seemed to
believe in him.
He lived up in the North Pole and
had a team of elves that built toys
for him.
And when Christmas came, he'd hop in his
sleigh and deliver those toys to children who
had been good all year round.
(05:48):
And we're not just talking about down the
street.
He delivered presents as far away as China,
all in one night.
I presented this evidence to my mother on
Christmas Eve that year, and I told her
that other than the time I scared Mrs.
Robinson's mule with a firecracker and the time
I threw mud at Jimmy Harlan, by the
(06:08):
way, he deserved it, I'd been a pretty
good kid.
Why hadn't Santa come out to see us?
My older brothers and sisters looked at each
other with this sad look, and I remember
tears suddenly filling my mama's eyes as she
turned away.
I wasn't too young to know that I'd
just ask a question I shouldn't have.
(06:30):
You ever have one of those moments when
you suddenly find out the truth about something
and everything around you seems to change?
Well, that's what happened to me that night.
I looked around at our musty, cold cabin
filled with broken furniture and empty cabinets.
I noticed the old, ragged shirts we wore,
(06:53):
their colors scrubbed out long ago in the
hard stream water.
I noticed the jagged mountains towering above us,
blanketing us in dark shadows, broken only by
the candles we placed around the room.
I then knew the truth.
Santa was real.
And he wasn't coming to see us.
(07:14):
Only children with real homes in fancy cities
would find him sliding down their chimneys Christmas
morning.
Santa had forgotten us, and it looked like
it was going to stay that way.
Talk about getting down in the mouth, that
was me all over.
I wasn't in the mood to do all
the happy holiday stuff we did in years
past.
After all, if Christmas was a holiday for
(07:37):
rich people, why should we bother celebrating it?
So as another year went by, I started
dreading Christmas.
The last thing I wanted to see were
those red ribbons on the town lampposts, the
wreaths on the church door, and certainly not
that mean old man whose picture was hanging
in the company store.
Whenever everyone went into town, I'd stay at
(07:58):
home, sit on the porch.
I was six years old, and I already
wanted to leave this place.
One day, I remember sitting alone on the
porch throwing rocks at the fence post.
Everyone else had gone into town, and a
cold silence filled the snowy valley.
The distant whistle of the approaching three o
'clock train suddenly filled the air, followed by
(08:20):
the chug, chug, chug of the locomotive.
It arrived every day like clockwork, and by
its sound, I knew my family would be
home shortly.
It was then that I heard the frantic
sound of footsteps running down the road towards
our house.
I turned and saw a sight that made
my blood run cold.
It was Jimmy Harlan, running breathlessly in my
(08:42):
direction, his face red and his eyes wild.
Jimmy was a big boy and with a
mean streak to match.
Obviously, I thought, he hasn't forgotten the mud
-throwing incident from a year ago.
And now that my family's gone, he was
going to take his revenge on me, the
scrawniest kid in the valley.
(09:04):
Wait, he screamed as I bolted for the
door.
I've got to tell you something.
As I slammed the door behind me, Jimmy
ran up on the porch and looked through
the window.
Something in his eyes made me curious, so
I asked, What do you want?
He's here, Jimmy yelled through the glass.
You've got to come see, quick, before he
(09:26):
leaves.
Who?
Santa Claus, Jimmy gasped.
He's on the train.
Now if Jimmy wanted revenge, he had picked
a good way to do it.
I was already feeling lousy enough about Christmas,
and now here was Jimmy rubbing it in.
(09:47):
I had to give him credit, he was
a pretty smart guy.
But to my surprise, Jimmy didn't wait for
me to open the door so he could
beat me to a pulp.
Instead, he went running as fast as he
could down the hillside, straight towards the approaching
train.
When he had gotten far enough away, I
eased open the door, and made my way
slowly down the hill behind him.
My curiosity had gotten the best of me.
(10:09):
As I got closer to the tracks, I
could hear the sounds of people cheering.
I ran faster and faster through the woods,
the thunder and train wheels growing louder and
louder as I approached.
I finally cleared the trees and found myself
right up against the tracks.
And what I saw next made my jaw
(10:30):
drop.
A crowd of people had lined the tracks,
waving and cheering to the train as it
slowly inched its way past them.
I wondered what the big deal was, since
this train arrived without fanfare almost every day.
That is, until I saw the caboose.
There, sitting in the back, surrounded by big,
(10:51):
burlap sacks of gifts, was Santa Claus!
Flowing white beard, big belly, red suit and
all, just like the pictures!
Ho, ho, ho!
He laughed heartily as he reached into the
sacks and tossed toys, warm clothing and candy
to the ecstatic boys and girls.
Merry Christmas!
(11:11):
Old Santa sees you!
Ho, ho, ho!
His team of elves surrounded him, and they
didn't look like the tiny people I had
seen in books.
In fact, they almost looked like normal people.
Without the pointy ears, of course.
As Santa rolled on past me, he gave
me a wink and threw a wrapped box
(11:32):
in my direction, along with handfuls of hard
candy.
He then gave me one last wave and
a hearty laugh before disappearing around the bend.
Ho, ho, ho!
I remember standing by the tracks in a
state of shock as Santa's train whistle faded
into memory.
(11:53):
To this day, I can't remember what the
present was that Santa gave me.
And it really doesn't matter.
Year after year, Santa would return aboard the
Santa Claus Special, as it later became known.
Word would spread like wildfire as the train
approached, and the air was filled with what
would become the traditional shout, Santa's coming!
(12:16):
Santa's coming!
And as I grew older, I began to
realize that Santa doesn't just live in the
North Pole like all the books say.
He lives in London, England.
The African jungle.
And yes, southwestern Virginia.
Anywhere that there are people that could use
a little magic and joy this time of
(12:36):
year.
How do I know this, you ask?
Because almost 57 years later, I have become
Santa Claus.
When I looked old enough to play the
part, of course the white hair and the
big belly helped, I slipped into the uniform
and boarded the Santa Claus Special and returned
(12:57):
to my mountain home.
And although the area isn't as isolated as
it used to be, the looks on the
children's faces are still the same as mine
was so long ago.
So yes, there is a Santa Claus after
all.
And you don't have to look very far
to find him.
(Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) The Moonlit Road presents the Santa Claus Special,
written by Craig Dominey and told by Jim
McCamus.
Now I'm going to tell you all a
Christmas story, but before I do, I have
a word of warning for all you adults
(00:25):
in the room.
I'm about to let you in on a
little secret that might change your life.
It might change the way you look at
the world, make you question everything you've been
told and everything you believe in.
Are you ready?
Well, in here goes.
Despite what your parents may have told you,
there is a real Santa Claus.
(00:48):
And I should know, because I've seen him
myself.
Now before you think I'm absolutely nuts, let
me tell you a little bit about myself.
I was born in 1937, deep in the
remote mountains of southwestern Virginia.
Even as a very young boy, I remember
how big and rocky those mountains were.
Our tiny two-room cabin clung to the
(01:09):
mountainside like a crow perched on a tree
limb.
The soil was so hard and barren that
nobody could make a decent living growing crops.
If you ever saw where we lived, you
might wonder why we didn't just get up
and leave.
Daddy moved us there for two reasons.
To be close to the relatives and to
(01:30):
work the coal mines.
Daddy's family had worked in the mines for
years, so when he was old enough, he
grabbed a shovel and went to work.
Of course, back then, a lot of work
was done by hand.
Daddy would frequently come home and fall fast
asleep on the couch from exhaustion.
But though we didn't have much, he provided
everything we needed to live.
(01:51):
One day, Daddy was told he had to
go off and fight for our country in
some place I'd never heard of.
After he left, my older brothers and sisters
would read his letters aloud that he sent
back from these real exotic-sounding places.
But one day, the letters stopped coming.
Mama worried herself sick until the day some
(02:13):
military men showed up on our doorstep.
My Daddy was killed in battle, they said.
But rest assured, he had died bravely.
So Mama was faced with the hard job
of raising my brothers and sisters and me
alone.
She could barely pay our bills, but there
was really nowhere else we could go.
(02:33):
We all slept in the same room and
there was barely enough food to make it
through the day.
When winter came, the bitterly cold winds would
blow through the holes in the walls and
we'd huddle up against one another to keep
warm.
But we had many happy days, more than
some families I know.
I guess if you don't know what you're
missing, then what you've got is good enough.
(02:57):
Like I said, where we grew up was
very remote.
There was only one winding dirt road which
led into the mining town and it took
so long to get there that we'd take
combined trips with our neighbors to get supplies.
Now when I say town, I ain't talking
New York City here.
Our town had about three buildings, a bank,
(03:19):
a barbershop, and a company store.
But to me, going to town was an
adventure, for it was my only contact with
the outside world.
I remember Christmas being a very special time
for us.
All the families would decorate the local church
and fix these huge dinners.
We'd sing and laugh and have the biggest
(03:41):
snowball fights you ever saw.
And on Sunday, our own family would make
a special trip to the cemetery to decorate
Daddy's grave with Christmas flowers and ribbons.
We figured he ought to celebrate with us,
for Mama always said that he was still
around, even though we couldn't see him.
(04:02):
As you may imagine, there wasn't much gift
giving going on in our neck of the
woods.
In fact, I really didn't know that people
gave gifts during Christmas.
That is, until I made a trip to
town one day, saw a funny sight in
the store window, a picture of a jolly
old man in a red suit jumping down
a chimney with what looked like a bag
(04:24):
full of presents.
Who's that?
I asked Mama, pointing at the picture.
Nothing, honey, she said, quickly turning me away.
It's just a picture.
Well, me being four years old at the
time, that answer wasn't nearly good enough.
Every time we'd pass that store, I'd tug
Mama's sleeve and ask over and over again,
(04:44):
Who's that man?
And I began to notice that she was
very reluctant to answer.
In fact, it got to the point where
we had avoided the store altogether, and she
had sent one of my older brothers in
to get whatever we needed.
But one Christmas, I eventually wore her down.
The mining town was filled with even more
pictures of this mysterious old man, and I
(05:05):
could barely contain my curiosity.
So when I asked again, this was the
answer my Mama gave me.
His name is Santa Claus, dear.
It's just a Christmas story, some folks tell.
He's not a real person.
I believed her at first, but then I
started hearing other things at school.
And when we'd go into town, I'd sneak
(05:28):
a look at some of the Christmas magazines
and books.
I learned that for someone who supposedly isn't
real, an awful lot of people seemed to
believe in him.
He lived up in the North Pole and
had a team of elves that built toys
for him.
And when Christmas came, he'd hop in his
sleigh and deliver those toys to children who
had been good all year round.
(05:48):
And we're not just talking about down the
street.
He delivered presents as far away as China,
all in one night.
I presented this evidence to my mother on
Christmas Eve that year, and I told her
that other than the time I scared Mrs.
Robinson's mule with a firecracker and the time
I threw mud at Jimmy Harlan, by the
(06:08):
way, he deserved it, I'd been a pretty
good kid.
Why hadn't Santa come out to see us?
My older brothers and sisters looked at each
other with this sad look, and I remember
tears suddenly filling my mama's eyes as she
turned away.
I wasn't too young to know that I'd
just ask a question I shouldn't have.
(06:30):
You ever have one of those moments when
you suddenly find out the truth about something
and everything around you seems to change?
Well, that's what happened to me that night.
I looked around at our musty, cold cabin
filled with broken furniture and empty cabinets.
I noticed the old, ragged shirts we wore,
(06:53):
their colors scrubbed out long ago in the
hard stream water.
I noticed the jagged mountains towering above us,
blanketing us in dark shadows, broken only by
the candles we placed around the room.
I then knew the truth.
Santa was real.
And he wasn't coming to see us.
(07:14):
Only children with real homes in fancy cities
would find him sliding down their chimneys Christmas
morning.
Santa had forgotten us, and it looked like
it was going to stay that way.
Talk about getting down in the mouth, that
was me all over.
I wasn't in the mood to do all
the happy holiday stuff we did in years
past.
After all, if Christmas was a holiday for
(07:37):
rich people, why should we bother celebrating it?
So as another year went by, I started
dreading Christmas.
The last thing I wanted to see were
those red ribbons on the town lampposts, the
wreaths on the church door, and certainly not
that mean old man whose picture was hanging
in the company store.
Whenever everyone went into town, I'd stay at
(07:58):
home, sit on the porch.
I was six years old, and I already
wanted to leave this place.
One day, I remember sitting alone on the
porch throwing rocks at the fence post.
Everyone else had gone into town, and a
cold silence filled the snowy valley.
The distant whistle of the approaching three o
'clock train suddenly filled the air, followed by
(08:20):
the chug, chug, chug of the locomotive.
It arrived every day like clockwork, and by
its sound, I knew my family would be
home shortly.
It was then that I heard the frantic
sound of footsteps running down the road towards
our house.
I turned and saw a sight that made
my blood run cold.
It was Jimmy Harlan, running breathlessly in my
(08:42):
direction, his face red and his eyes wild.
Jimmy was a big boy and with a
mean streak to match.
Obviously, I thought, he hasn't forgotten the mud
-throwing incident from a year ago.
And now that my family's gone, he was
going to take his revenge on me, the
scrawniest kid in the valley.
(09:04):
Wait, he screamed as I bolted for the
door.
I've got to tell you something.
As I slammed the door behind me, Jimmy
ran up on the porch and looked through
the window.
Something in his eyes made me curious, so
I asked, What do you want?
He's here, Jimmy yelled through the glass.
You've got to come see, quick, before he
(09:26):
leaves.
Who?
Santa Claus, Jimmy gasped.
He's on the train.
Now if Jimmy wanted revenge, he had picked
a good way to do it.
I was already feeling lousy enough about Christmas,
and now here was Jimmy rubbing it in.
(09:47):
I had to give him credit, he was
a pretty smart guy.
But to my surprise, Jimmy didn't wait for
me to open the door so he could
beat me to a pulp.
Instead, he went running as fast as he
could down the hillside, straight towards the approaching
train.
When he had gotten far enough away, I
eased open the door, and made my way
slowly down the hill behind him.
My curiosity had gotten the best of me.
(10:09):
As I got closer to the tracks, I
could hear the sounds of people cheering.
I ran faster and faster through the woods,
the thunder and train wheels growing louder and
louder as I approached.
I finally cleared the trees and found myself
right up against the tracks.
And what I saw next made my jaw
(10:30):
drop.
A crowd of people had lined the tracks,
waving and cheering to the train as it
slowly inched its way past them.
I wondered what the big deal was, since
this train arrived without fanfare almost every day.
That is, until I saw the caboose.
There, sitting in the back, surrounded by big,
(10:51):
burlap sacks of gifts, was Santa Claus!
Flowing white beard, big belly, red suit and
all, just like the pictures!
Ho, ho, ho!
He laughed heartily as he reached into the
sacks and tossed toys, warm clothing and candy
to the ecstatic boys and girls.
Merry Christmas!
(11:11):
Old Santa sees you!
Ho, ho, ho!
His team of elves surrounded him, and they
didn't look like the tiny people I had
seen in books.
In fact, they almost looked like normal people.
Without the pointy ears, of course.
As Santa rolled on past me, he gave
me a wink and threw a wrapped box
(11:32):
in my direction, along with handfuls of hard
candy.
He then gave me one last wave and
a hearty laugh before disappearing around the bend.
Ho, ho, ho!
I remember standing by the tracks in a
state of shock as Santa's train whistle faded
into memory.
(11:53):
To this day, I can't remember what the
present was that Santa gave me.
And it really doesn't matter.
Year after year, Santa would return aboard the
Santa Claus Special, as it later became known.
Word would spread like wildfire as the train
approached, and the air was filled with what
would become the traditional shout, Santa's coming!
(12:16):
Santa's coming!
And as I grew older, I began to
realize that Santa doesn't just live in the
North Pole like all the books say.
He lives in London, England.
The African jungle.
And yes, southwestern Virginia.
Anywhere that there are people that could use
a little magic and joy this time of
(12:36):
year.
How do I know this, you ask?
Because almost 57 years later, I have become
Santa Claus.
When I looked old enough to play the
part, of course the white hair and the
big belly helped, I slipped into the uniform
and boarded the Santa Claus Special and returned
(12:57):
to my mountain home.
And although the area isn't as isolated as
it used to be, the looks on the
children's faces are still the same as mine
was so long ago.
So yes, there is a Santa Claus after
all.
And you don't have to look very far
to find him.
Popular Podcasts
Crime Junkie
Does hearing about a true crime case always leave you scouring the internet for the truth behind the story? Dive into your next mystery with Crime Junkie. Every Monday, join your host Ashley Flowers as she unravels all the details of infamous and underreported true crime cases with her best friend Brit Prawat. From cold cases to missing persons and heroes in our community who seek justice, Crime Junkie is your destination for theories and stories you won’t hear anywhere else. Whether you're a seasoned true crime enthusiast or new to the genre, you'll find yourself on the edge of your seat awaiting a new episode every Monday. If you can never get enough true crime... Congratulations, you’ve found your people. Follow to join a community of Crime Junkies! Crime Junkie is presented by audiochuck Media Company.
24/7 News: The Latest
The latest news in 4 minutes updated every hour, every day.
Stuff You Should Know
If you've ever wanted to know about champagne, satanism, the Stonewall Uprising, chaos theory, LSD, El Nino, true crime and Rosa Parks, then look no further. Josh and Chuck have you covered.