99/12/08
 

Every year when I drive by the local airport I’m inspired to tell my kids the Christmas story I’ve told every year since they were very small. Its kind of sappy, but then, so am I

At the fence of the airfield there sits and old Dakota. A Dakota is a big twin-engined transport plane originally designed in the 1930s, it’s more commonly known as a  Douglas DC-3, a very famous kind of aircraft. The one that sits by the fence is preserved for display. Every December it gets decorated with lights and can be seen from a long way off. It’s a sight to behold.

When my boys first saw the Dakota at Christmas they asked me about it, and I felt it was time they knew the truth…

Well, it’s like this.

Most people think that Santa Claus flies throughout the world on Christmas night delivering toys to all the kids. He rides in a sleigh pulled by a bunch of flying reindeer named Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder, Blitzen and Rudolph.

Hogwash.

Flying reindeer could never pull that kind of weight, it's simple physics.

The TRUTH of the matter is that the reindeer take over after half the world is done, and the weight is significantly reduced, also, there is a great need for speed so that the job can be finished if inclement weather or natural disaster is encountered. Reindeer are fast, but not very strong.

The fact of the matter is that the first half of the world is covered by Santa and his sleigh being pulled by a little-known group of flying Rhinoceroses. These have the brute strength and endurance needed to haul the huge tonnage of a fully-laden sleigh and jolly fat guy until the cute little reindeer can take over and get all the glory. These flying rhinos are Ed, Bill, Stan, Roy, Jerry, and Gus.

The Rhinos switch with the Reindeer in a little Town called Klambucket Falls.

Now that we understand how that works, I’ll explain where the Dakota comes in.

Many years ago, the rhinos did it all, and they were really tired of being stuck with all the work.

On Christmas night, as we all know, the clocks all over the world stop. Everyone is asleep, and the night magically stretches out so Santa and his team can do their work. While the clocks are stopped no one can wake up. The only clocks that don’t stop are in firehalls, where the firefighters are the only people allowed to be awake, in case they’re needed to remove a certain portly individual from chimneys after too much cookies and milk.

One Christmas night, a number of years back the Dakota wasn’t as shiny or clean as she is today, back then she sat way off in the back of the airfield on flat tires, her engines seized and rusted, she was forgotten. But she was patient and calm, she would sit and listen to the little aircraft buzz about and remember the days when she flew too. She remembered flying in the war when she ferried hurt soldiers home. She remembered dropping supplies to people who needed help, and the long, long hours she spent droning over the mountains looking for crashed pilots who were waiting to hear the thunder of her engines and know they were saved.

She remembered the times her pilots brought her into tiny airstrips, and the times she carried more weight than she was ever designed to, because help was needed, and she was the only hope. Bad weather never stopped her; she flew with ice coating her wings, through rain and hurricanes. Often her pilots wondered how she did it, because other airplanes would have crashed long before. She saved many a life in her youth, and the memories she carried kept her from being sad and lonely while the years went by and she grew more and more neglected away out there in the field.

 She waited to be cut up and melted down, like happens eventually to many old airplanes who don’t fly anymore.

This Christmas night she slept quietly in the field while all over the world the clocks stopped…

The weather was terrible, snow was falling thick and fast everywhere. Over the Pacific Ocean Santa and the rhinos galloped through the sky, he had never seen weather like it in all the years there had been Christmases.

Rhinos are immensely strong creatures and almost nothing can stop them, but they were very tired from the high winds and could barely keep the sleigh in the air anymore, ice was coating them, making everything heavier, ice and snow were all over the sleigh, making it drag behind them. Santa was far from finished his rounds, as a matter of fact he was only half done, but it was obvious that the rhinos were totally exhausted, he only hoped he could make landfall before they fell out of the sky.

In the distance he saw a set of runway lights glimmering, the snow and ice were getting thicker.

“Ed!” He called to his lead rhino, “Make for the lights big fella!”

Ed said “znort!” and headed down toward the twin rows of lamps.

Once on the ground they all stood looking bewildered, what were they going to do? The weather was getting worse, and the rhinos were clearly spent. Half the world might very well not have Christmas this year.

They took shelter from the biting cold wind and snow under the wing of the biggest airplane on the field, “Look guys, we’re in a bit of a pickle here” said Santa, “Any ideas?”

“Znort” said Ed dejectedly, none of the others said anything, they just looked around, exhausted. (Rhinos don’t say much, but when they do, you’d best listen)

“The sleigh is much lighter now, so those reindeer we have back home could probably pull it for the rest of the way. But they can’t fly without the magic harnesses and the sleigh, and there’s no way you guys can fly back to the North Pole, it looks like we’re hooped.”

Ed and the others (being rhinos of few words) just looked around sadly, nothing like this had ever happened before. They all watched snow falling thick and fast, silence closed around them like a blanket.

Magic comes in many forms, and there’s some in all of us. There’s magic in old machines too, the older they are, the more magic they store.

“I can fly”

“Who said that?” Said Santa, looking around, the voice sounded like the wind he heard high above the earth.

“At least I used to fly” the voice whispered, sadder now

Santa turned to look at the big airplane he was sheltering under and laid his hand on the cold aluminum skin, her flat tires sunk into the ground, her engines rusted and seized, her windshield cracked and glazed with grime. He smiled, and said “That’s okay old girl, we need a ride to the North Pole, I think you’re a bit past that”

The Dakota remembered how many thousands of miles she had flown, how many times people had thought it was impossible to fly in the weather she had faced. How many times her pilots had patted her sides and whispered their thanks to her for their lives. She closed her eyes and reached within herself for a bit of strength. She knew that she would soon be aluminum ingots in a smelter, but she also knew somewhere deep inside her that she was once again, for the last time, the only hope there was.

Santa looked out again at the snow, wondering what to do. Suddenly, he heard a screech of tortured metal, and another, and another. The big propellers, rusted and filthy, attached to engines seized for years...

were turning!

He stood with mouth agape, Santa is no stranger to Christmas magic, but he had never seen anything like this, he was speechless, faster they turned now, the exhausts coughed thick smoke, rats and rabbits ran terrified from their hiding places in the cowlings, spiders and cobwebs shot out of the exhaust pipes.

The rhinos looked at each other, then at Santa, and stood back from the noisy apparition.

Santa saw that there was one problem, the big Dakota’s tires were still stuck fast, and flat. Santa is a pretty smart guy though, and he knew who he could count on, he whipped out his cellular phone and punched the speed dial. Only one group of people can wake up on Christmas night.

“Klambucket Falls Fire Department” answered a sleepy voice. He listened to the booming words on the other end of the line and pressed the alarm button, Firefighters bounced out of bed, slid down the poles and rolled the rigs. There wasn’t a moment to lose. With sirens wailing and snow flying from their wheels, they headed for the airport.

When they pulled up on the scene they stood amazed for a moment. The big Dakota was there with its old, worn-out engines clattering and banging, making a terrible din, they sounded like they were going to fly apart at any second, smoke and oil spewed out behind them, nuts and bolts flew off. The Dakota shook and shuddered where she sat.  Santa ran up and explained the problem to the Captain who turned to his men, orders were given, and soon everything was in place.

The big red trucks pulled the Dakota’s wheels out of the frozen mud; an air hose was rigged from the breathing bottles to fill the tires. Santa waved and opened the cargo doors on the side of the plane. The rhinos filed in one by one. Santa slammed the big doors and looked around, “Hoo boy!” he thought, “I hope we can pull this off” He patted the Dakota’s aluminum skin again, but this time it wasn’t cold anymore. He crossed his fingers and toes, then, for good measure, he crossed his eyes as well. The North Pole was a long way off, they would need all the luck they could get.

The windows of Klambucket Falls shook to the thunder of those big engines. It was a sound that no one had heard there for years. The last that could be seen of the Dakota was the red, glowing flames of her exhausts vanishing northward in the blowing snow.

Hours and hours later Mrs. Claus said to one of the elves “What’s that terrible noise?” An awful sound was growing louder and louder, “Sounds kind of like a washing machine full of rocks and cats” said the elf.

The big Dakota dropped from the sky, her one remaining landing light barely illuminating the short runway, “Just like old times” she thought as her flaps creaked down. Her wheels kissed the ground ever so gently then braked hard. She swerved and weaved on the icy surface as she tried to stop. At the very end of the strip her skidding ceased.

Once more she had delivered her cargo safely. She was bone-weary. She almost wept knowing that her magic was all used up, there just wasn’t enough left to get everyone back to Klambucket Falls to get the sleigh. As the rhinos and Santa unloaded, she had no idea what she was going to do. Christmas would be ruined and she couldn’t do another thing.

Santa doesn’t forget a favour though, he called all his best elves together and pointed to the Dakota “You guys think you can fix her?” he asked. The gleam in their eyes was all the answer he needed, he had to step back quick so as not to get trampled in the rush.

As Santa went and got the reindeer, the elves swarmed all over the Dakota. Magic oil was poured into the engines, it made them good as new, she was polished with elf wax which made her skin gleam in the moonlight. Tiny elf hammers pounded out all the dents. Her windshield was replaced, her tires were fixed, and her gas tanks were filled with enchanted fuel. Every single nut and bolt was tightened. She was better than new.

By the time Santa led the reindeer out to her, she shone brighter than the day she rolled out of the factory. Her engines snarled and crackled with life, her propellers were shimmering silver disks. Her strobe lights flashed in delight. Santa patted her side and smiled. She hadn’t felt like this in longer than she could remember, she felt like she could fly around the world and back.

Once the reindeer were loaded, she spun around and blasted down the runway in a tornado of snow. She flashed through the sky like a fighter plane, she snap rolled and chandelled, She swooped and streaked past Santa’s house so low her slipstream knocked a laughing Mrs. Claus on her fanny and caught the bloomers off her clothesline on her left wingtip.

The flight back to Klambucket Falls was uneventful. For the Dakota a flight through a thousand miles of hurricane wind and blinding snow was nothing. Before long her wheels chirped on the runway at Klambucket Falls airport. Santa’s sleigh waited there. Quickly the reindeer were hitched up and ready to go

“Thanks Dak” said Santa, “See you soon” and with that he was off into the night.

“I wonder what he meant by that?” Thought the Dakota.

The next day, Christmas dawned bright and clear. A little airplane landed holding four small, mysterious people with pointy ears and a fat guy with a beard. They all wore dark glasses. They showed papers to the airport manager saying that they now owned the Dakota, then they wheeled her over by the fence facing the road and smiled up at her, each patting her skin before they got into the little airplane they came in and flew away. She knew that now there would be no smelter, and that she would never be aluminum ingots, she could truly rest now, knowing she only had one job to do every year.

Ever since then, at the beginning of December, that same small airplane with four little guys and a fat bearded fellow flies into Klambucket Falls. They string Christmas lights on the Dakota. Each Christmas night the people of Klambucket Falls sleep as their windows shake from the thunder of the big engines, and the exhaust flames turn resolutely Northward.

Every Christmas morning The people at the airport wonder why there are Rhino tracks leading up to the big cargo door, and reindeer tracks leading out.
 

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