Briggs: My dad played Santa. My kids were his toughest audience

For 30 years my dad, Bruce Briggs, helped out the real Santa by making Santa visits in Fargo-Moorhead. However, the results were less than ideal with my own children.

By Tracy Briggs

December 20, 2023 at 10:10 AM

MOORHEAD — Maybe it’s appropriate that red is the color of Christmas. A holiday that evokes so many vivid memories should be represented by a rich, saturated color like red. I’m blessed to have had so many holiday memories through the years. I’ve written about a few of them.

They include:

Driving around Fargo-Moorhead on Christmas Eve to look at lights and hear my parents marvel at how empty the West Acres parking lot was after a frenzied few weeks.
Watching “White Christmas” every single year — tempting me to sing about “Snow, Snow, Snow” every winter or wanting to say “Mutual, I’m sure,” when I meet someone new. (Fans of one of the best movies ever will get those references.)
Opening gifts on Christmas morning followed by my mom’s wonderful turkey or ham dinner.

But I’ve never written about another Christmas memory that I took for granted for so many years. In the late 1970s, my father, Bruce Briggs, a well-respected health care administrator in town, turned into Santa.

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Every Christmas season, my dad Bruce Briggs transformed from Hospital Vice President to Santa's helper.

For any of you kids who might be advanced for your years and are reading an online newspaper story, please understand, that my dad was simply helping the real Santa.

Anyway, maybe it was a way for Dad to fully embrace the holiday season. Maybe it was a way to unwind after a stressful day at the office. Maybe he lost a bet.

OK, I knew it wasn’t that last thing. No one forced him to dress like Santa. He loved it and probably did it for close to 30 years.

Dad would mention to his friends and co-workers that he could play Santa for their kids and grandkids. Sometimes he’d go to their homes, have them sit on his lap and tell him everything they wanted for Christmas. Sometimes, it was just a phone call.

My dad as Santa talking to one of his friend's grandchildren.

I can still remember my mom telling my sister Cheryl, my brother Bob and me, “Be kind of quiet, Dad is up in the bedroom making his Santa calls.”

Later, I would hear a random “Ho, ho, ho” coming from behind the bedroom door as I watched “Happy Days” in the family room. Looking back, I hope I kept the TV volume down low, so Dad didn't need to explain to the kids why one of his elves sounded like The Fonz.

Dad would spend hours and hours on those calls and visits.

So you can imagine how happy my sister was when she had her own children in the early ‘90s (daughter Peyton in 1992 and son Drew in 1993) and knew Papa could play Santa for them.

"Dad played Santa for not only my kids, but also for young toddlers in a play group I was part of, as well as kids of friends in a dinner group," Cheryl said. "It was so fun watching these children smile and interact with Santa/Dad as he patiently and sweetly listened to each and every one."

Cheryl recalls her kids were a little overwhelmed at first. Peyton was a little shy. But both liked his visits. Even so, Dad was met with skepticism.

One of my most vivid memories of that particular Santa visit was when Peyton said, “I'm not sure Santa came on his sleigh, because I heard him jingle car keys in his pocket just like Papa does.”

Later, Drew followed him out the door and probably saw him getting into said car.

"That’s when the gig was up for Peyton and Drew," Cheryl said.

Dad 1.jpg — A photo of my dad in the 1970s when he wasn't dressed as Santa. He worked in healthcare administration for Dakota Hospital, Minn-Dak Health Planning Agency and St. Lukes/Meritcare.

Throughout the 1990s, Dad continued his Santa visits with other families as well. By the early 2000s, I had my two daughters: Laura in 2002 and Jordan in 2004. Like, my sister, I was excited for our Santa visit.

We invited our friends Drew and Julie Rutherford to bring their daughter Eliana over for the Santa visit. Eliana is a year older than Laura and our goddaughter. I think in those early years, Julie and I felt like we each had three daughters. Julie even surprised me with a special Christmas photo of our girls.

From left, my daughter Jordan, Goddaughter Eliana and daughter Laura. They're much happier in this Christmas photo than they were when "Santa" visited.

Anyway, Santa's visit day came. He knocked on our door. My memory is a little fuzzy from those sleep-deprived days of being a toddler and preschool mom (and working in early-morning radio). But I recall Santa’s arrival being something akin to Freddy Krueger’s arrival on Elm Street.

Terror. The three girls were not happy. They saw the guy in the red suit but wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe that’s why we have so few photos of the visit. Our hands were tied up holding and hugging three little girls.

The girls eventually settled down and maybe even let us get a photo.

I remember a later visit, when Jordan was a little older, maybe 4 or 5. She had inherited her cousin’s skepticism, saying, “I think it’s funny how Papa and Santa have the same shoes.”

Poor Dad was once again met with suspicion from a loved one.

Dad died in 2019. Shortly before he died, I remember him talking about how much he loved his “Santa days” and how funny it was that his grandkids were not always his biggest fans when he put on his Santa gear.

“I spent $400 on that Santa suit. But I’m glad the other kids liked it!”

IMG_0988 (1).jpg — Santa's helper Bruce Briggs is pictured visiting with the grandchildren of his friend Esther Allen in Moorhead.

The irony, of course, is how deeply Peyton, Drew, Laura and Jordan loved their grandpa. But put him in a red suit and all bets were off.

Now that we’re spending another Christmas without Dad (and Mom, who died in 1992), I long for those days of hearing “Ho, ho, ho” behind his bedroom door. I don’t think I ever appreciated what a kind and generous thing it was he did every year. It wasn't about money. He certainly never charged anything. He became Santa for the love of his friends and their children and grandchildren.

As I said earlier, I took my dad's sweet Christmas gesture for granted all of those years. I don’t anymore.

Dad eventually donated that $400 Santa suit to charity after our kids grew up.

Proof that most of the time the grandkids loved hanging out with Papa. From left: Drew Lausch, Peyton Lausch, Cheryl Lausch, Bruce Briggs, Tracy Briggs, Laura Jensen, Jordan Jensen

So maybe another grandpa somewhere is wearing it and having better luck fooling his grandchildren. Let's hope, anyway. But even with the skepticism Dad, as Santa, received from some of the kids in his family, those visits now rank as some of our favorite Christmas memories over the past 25 years — as sweet as the cookies we left out for Santa on Christmas Eve.

So, if there is a grandpa or grandma out there who inherited Dad's Santa suit, give it a go surprising your grandchildren.

But Dad would probably offer you this advice: "Change your shoes, and for heaven's sake, don't jingle your car keys."

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Hi, I'm Tracy Briggs. Thanks for reading my column! I love going "Back Then" every week with stories about interesting people, places and things from our past. Check out a few below. If you have an idea for a story, email me at tracy.briggs@forumcomm.com.