By: Barbara Spear
Santa and I have been exchanging letters since the time I visited the North Pole to see his extensive collection of cherry-red Corvettes and Corvette toys. Most of his letters are full of joy, as he describes the new additions to his extensive collection. In his November letter, Santa said that things were humming at the North Pole. Letters from good children throughout the world had already begun arriving and he was doing his best to fulfill all of his friends' wishes. His cheerful note never hinted that all was not well at the North Pole.
Santa's trusty reindeer were very ill. Blitzen had been the first to succumb, and the mystery disease quickly spread to the others. None of Mrs. Claus' magic potions seemed to work. The reindeer hardly touched their food, and slept long hours in their stalls. As Christmas drew near, Santa knew that even if his reindeer recovered, they would be too weak to pull his sleigh around the world.
It was well after midnight and I was sleeping soundly after trimming my Christmas tree. The loud ringing of my phone jolted me from my slumber.
A desperate voice at the other end of the phone pleaded, "This is Santa. I have a serious problem and I need your help."
Santa swore me to secrecy, explained his distress then asked if I would help. I agreed, but as I hung up the phone a sinking feeling came over me. Could I really do what Santa wanted me to? Would my Corvette friends pitch in the way he suggested they would?
I grabbed my address book and dialed the first phone number. When I heard David's sleepy voice at the other end, I explained that there was an emergency and he had to go to the ticket counter at the Brisbane airport. To my surprise, David asked no questions and immediately agreed to head for the airport.
I called several other local friends and got the same response. Gaining confidence, I called Kim in Massachusetts, Terry in Illinois, Pete in Oklahoma, then Bill in California. I called René, Traugi, and Röbi in Switzerland then Petra and Ernst in Germany. Everyone agreed to go and nobody asked me why. I began to suspect that Santa had cast a magic spell over the Corvette community.
After making more phone calls, I hurried to the airport. Being the middle of the night, the place was deserted. As I puzzled, wondering which ticket counter to go to, a uniformed man stepped out of nowhere and said, "Go to Gate B14, they're waiting for you."
I ran to the gate and found Ray, Sal, Pete, Chuckie, and Anita & Al. We silently followed a uniformed attendant to a waiting Lear Jet. During the flight, everyone, including me, dozed off.
We awoke with a start when the jet landed on a snow-covered airstrip. We deplaned and found ourselves dwarfed by the huge drifts of snow that bordered the runway. The crisp black winter sky was speckled with glittering stars and the landing lights of a string of approaching planes.
As our plane taxied away, another small jet touched down. Out bounded Terry and some of his midwest friends. In quick succession, other jets landed bringing with them Corvetters from around the world. We exchanged holiday greetings, then a few brave folks began to ask what we were all doing here--instead of "snuggled warm in our beds."
Santa stepped out from behind snowbank and explained, "I don't think I need to introduce myself, so I'll get right to the point. My reindeer are very ill. They can't pull my sleigh this year. If I'm to deliver presents to all the good boys and girls around the world tonight I'm going to need help. I have a nice collection of cherry-red Corvettes that can carry the gifts, but I need drivers for them." Santa pointed to me and added, "I called my friend, knowing she'd find the best."
Santa motioned for us to follow and we walked down a snow covered path to his test track. There, neatly lined up, was Santa's collection of shiny red Corvettes, each laden with gifts. I scanned the faces of my friends; they were full of wonder and awe.
Santa paired us up as he assigned us to our Vettes. Santa put me in a '73 convertible with David from Australia. Anita and Al got a '63 coupe. Bill got the '54, Chuckie got a '66, Ray got a '68, Sal got the '69, Terry got the '72, and so it went, everyone driving a Vette from his or her favorite vintage.
Skepticism set in. These were land vehicles, how could we possibly get them around the world in a single night? How would we know when and where to leave each present? Santa winked and assured us that all we had to do was follow his lead.
He climbed into his custom red-on-red factory 1953, then signaled us to start our engines. Slowly we began to roll forward. Suddenly, Santa's red '53 lifted off the ground and climbed into the air. Bill's car was right behind. In minutes, we were all soaring through the air in a giant red Corvette caravan.
After the initial shock, we relaxed and began to enjoy the scenery. We laughed and joked and sang Christmas carols as we wove through the crisp night air.
As we sped from country to country and town to town, brightly wrapped presents popped from our Vettes and drifted gently down chimneys and into homes.
It was still dark when we returned to the North Pole. Joyously weary, we climbed our of our Vettes. The fleet of jets was waiting for us on the airstrip. As we departed, Santa gave each of us a little wrapped gift.
Mrs. Claus had stocked each plane with home-baked goodies and hot drinks. After stuffing ourselves, we settled back into our seats and slept deeply. Back at the airport, we quickly said our good-byes and headed for home.
Christmas was a splendid day. Family and friends came to visit, exchange gifts, and savor holiday foods. No one noticed my overnight absence.
When the festivities were over, I went upstairs and readied for bed. On my dresser was the little package that Santa had given me. I opened it and found a little gold Corvette pin with the words "Corvette Christmas Greetings From Santa," engraved on the back. It was the most unusual Corvette pin I'd ever seen, and I noticed that it outshined all the others in my collection.
Santa called a few weeks later. His reindeer were recovering, but it would be many weeks before they regained their full strength. He expressed his thanks, saying that he always knew the Corvette community was a special group of caring people.
Santa is right; the Corvette community embodies the true spirit of Christmas. You see it all year round, on Saturday mornings in a friend's driveway, at club meetings and swap meets, during road ralleys and shows. Wherever Corvetters gather, you find the same caring spirit that drew a group of drivers from their comfortable beds to help Santa spread joy throughout the world. And, if you happen to see someone wearing an unusual gold Corvette pin, don't bother asking where it came from. The only answer you'll get is that it was a gift from a friend. But you'll know that the person wearing it drove in a very special, once in a lifetime, Corvette Christmas Caravan.
Copyright 1996 Barbara Spear
