A pause in the Claus: Pandemic puts Macon man’s Santa plans put on hold
For most of his life, Wayne Lyde had no real desire to play Santa Claus.
He never fancied himself in a Santa suit. He had no aspirations to sit in a crowded mall, with squirming children reciting a long list of toys they wanted for Christmas.
His house was at River North … not the North Pole.
But a few years after he retired as a cameraman for WMAZ-TV, he stood in front of the mirror and saw a man staring back who looked a lot like St. Nick.
Wayne’s hair and beard were beginning to turn a soft, snowy white. And he had eaten enough biscuits in his lifetime to meet the minimum weight requirements.
A woman at his church, Elaine Thomas, noticed, too. She asked if he would volunteer to dress as Santa for the annual Reindeer Run to benefit the Children’s Hospital at the Medical Center.
“I was scared, and a little nervous,’’ he said. “I’m a pretty quiet fellow. But they say when you put on that suit, it changes your personality.’’
After the race, he visited children at the hospital. The sounds of youngsters laughing and the tugs on Santa’s sleeve were enough to convince him he had found his calling.
“When children see Santa Claus, they see happiness,’’ he said. “I love the expression on their faces. I love taking time with them and watching their eyes light up. It brings joy to my heart. I get more out of it than they do.’’
His wife, Rena, said it was not easy for her husband to adjust to being the “center of attention.’’
“He worked at WMAZ for 41 years, and he was always behind the camera,’’ she said. “He was the one taking the pictures and the video, standing in the middle of Cherry Street during the Christmas parade.’’
After a couple of years of bringing holiday cheer at charitable events, church parties, nursing homes and making the rounds to shut-ins on Christmas Eve, Rena decided it was time for Wayne to have his own Santa suit. She asked a friend to sew him a custom-made outfit.
In late September 2013, he went to the Kroger on Tom Hill Sr. Boulevard with bread and milk on his grocery list.
He came back with a new gig.
“When I walked in, I felt somebody looking at me,’’ Wayne said. “A woman came up and wanted to know if I played Santa Claus. I told her I did it locally. She asked if I would be interested in working for a company. She took my picture. I got a call the next day.’’
He was sent to Cherry Hill, N.J., to attend a “Santa Claus University,” where he spent a few days with four dozen other jolly old men before returning H0-Ho-Home.
“I learned some of the tricks of the trade of being Santa,’’ he said. “They taught us never to lie to a child. If a child asks if you are the real Santa, you let them decide and pull on your beard.
“I tell any child missing a parent to put their hands over their heart and know they are thinking about you.’’
Wayne spent more than a month playing Santa at a mall in Clarksville, Indiana, across the Ohio River from Louisville, Kentucky.
He learned to be prepared for anything, like parents leaning over and whispering special requests in his ear.
Do you think you can get her to stop using a pacifier? Would you say something to him about potty training?
Over the past six years, he has appeared locally at Bass Pro Shop, assisted living facilities, restaurants, churches, family parties and neighborhood associations. He did a television commercial dressed as Santa for an area car dealership and another with WMAZ employees and their families.
Although Wayne is 79 years old, with grandchildren and great-grandchildren, Santa’s sleigh has shown no signs of slowing down.
But the pandemic reared its head in the early spring, and the numbers have been spiking in recent months. Unfortunately, Covid is not the name of one of Santa’s reindeer.
Wayne trimmed his beard last January. But he soon started growing it full again, with hopes that everything might be back to normal by December.
“We held off on making a decision,’’ he said. “We prayed a lot, asking God to guide us and show us what we needed to do.’’
As the holidays approached, he put on his game face. But, in the end, he chose to opt out of the game.
He has watched as Santas around the country have had to re-invent themselves with masks and plexiglass partitions. Many have been relegated to Zoom and Facetime calls.
Virtual Christmases are not quite the same.
You cannot see their eyes. They cannot see your eyes.
There is an empty feeling when Wayne looks around at holiday decorations and hears Christmas music.
It’s like he’s all dressed up with no place to go. Still, he has not totally given up on the idea of putting on the red suit for a few events and bringing some measure of joy to the world.
“We’ve had a family ask if we can just drive by their house,’’ Rena said. “Most are people who know us, and they want Wayne Lyde as Santa. One lady told me her grandson is in the first grade, and it’s the only Santa he has ever seen.’’
Ed Grisamore teaches journalism at Stratford Academy in Macon. His column appears on Sundays in The Telegraph.
