ALONG THE WAY

along the way The Man Who KILLED SANTA CLAUS

ALMOST ANYWHERE DURING THE 1930s, Ebenezer Scrooge might have been the most unpopular Christmas figure, but in Mesa, that distinction belonged solely to John McPhee.

McPhee did many things in this life: He was an editor of Arizona Highways, a newspaper editor and a prominent citizen of Mesa-but to his townspeople he'll always be "the man who killed Santa Claus."

It all started innocently enough. The year was 1932, and Mesa folks, like the rest of their countrymen, were bravely holding onto their smiles. The Great Depression was taking its toll on the American way of life. People were struggling economically.

The effects of 1929's stock market crash still weighed on people's minds and pocketbooks. When the 1932 Christmas season came, Mesa merchants wanted the townspeople to forget the hard times and enjoy the holiday spirit.

Their first idea was to have a parade with a brass band. Everyone loved a parade. But they'd had a parade the last two years.

That's when McPhee came up with the idea of having Santa Claus float down into town on one of those newfangled parachutes. Aviation was still new and exciting, and a parachuting Santa would dazzle everyone.

It'd be a festive sight to see Santa beneath a billowing canopy, with his white beard blowing in the breeze and a hearty smile on his wrinkled face. His red suit would brighten the sky, and his laugh would delight everyone.

Yes, they agreed, the idea was brilliant. Quickly, McPhee found a crop-duster pilot willing to provide Santa's airborne sleigh.

A front-page article appeared in the Mesa Journal-Tribune with a photo of Santa Claus, inviting "every kid in the Mesa district... to help show Santa a good time." Finally, the afternoon came-Friday, Dec. 16-when Santa's plane would arrive at 4:15.

People drove from miles around to see Santa float into Mesa.

Children perched on rooftops for a better view of one of the biggest events in the town's history. The merchants looked at the children's excitement and felt proud of their great plan. But at the last minute, things began to go wrong. The stunt man didn't show up, so McPhee went looking for him. The man was sitting in a local bar so full of liquid cheer he couldn't walk, much less jump from a plane.

McPhee panicked. He had no Santa. Still, he couldn't call it off, but no one else was trained to jump. Only a dummy would jump without being trained.

A dummy! That's it, he thought. McPhee decided to get a dummy from a merchant and dress it up in the Santa suit. Then he'd ask the pilot to pull the dummy's parachute cord when he pushed it from the plane. McPhee knew the crowd expected a live Santa, but they wouldn't know if Santa was alive until he landed. And McPhee planned to race there first and slip into the Santa suit himself to greet the crowd. McPhee relaxed. It would work.

All eyes fixed on the small plane as it circled. The crowd drew its breath as the red figure was seen in the plane's door. They watched Santa jump. A cheer went up.

"Now," McPhee whispered. But the parachute wasn't opening. The crowd's cheer faltered.

Down, down, down Santa fell.

CRASH. Santa hit the ground. His parachute never opened.

The crowd's cheer turned to shocked silence. The children's wide-eyed wonder turned to horror. Santa Claus had been killed right before their eyes.

McPhee was speechless. He'd sent Santa to his death in front of hundreds of stunned children. Yet, two minutes later, Mesa's children's faith in Santa's miraculous powers was affirmed when Santa paraded through town, riding on the hood of a city police car.

McPhee left town for a long vacation, hoping the spectacle would be forgotten when he returned. But it never was. Even his obituary 40 years later fondly remembered him as the "man who killed Santa Claus."

EDITOR'S NOTE: In addition to being an editor for Arizona Highways from January 1935 until May 1937, McPhee served as the editor of Verde Copper News and worked for such newspapers as The Arizona Republic and the Mesa Journal-Tribune. He also wrote for the Nogales International and the Bisbee Daily Review. McPhee died May 27, 1968. AH