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Santa Jr. Jolly young elf follows in his dad�s bootsteps By Mark Freeman Gary Gomes Jr. shuffles tentatively down the hospital hallway, his stomach shaking like a bowl full of jelly � not from laughter, but from butterflies. "I�m nervous," the teenager confides through his white beard, "mostly of the kids." Gomes steps into the maternity ward and confronts two toddlers, who shriek at the red-suited monster and dive into their pregnant mothers� arms. Gomes stands hunched like a man wearing wet clothes, mutters a meager "Merry Christmas" and shuffles to his next encounter. "That�s unexpected," he says. "But it�s something I�ll have to get used to, I guess." Lesson One: There�s a lot more to playing Santa than stuffing a pillow in your pants. This critical kernel of Kris Kringledom is one of many Gomes is gathering, at the unSanta-like age of 14, from his jolly old dad. After 35 years of ho-ho-ho-ing through West Coast hospitals, Gary Gomes Sr. is now handing the Santa mantle to his youngest son. "After that many years, it�s good to pass it on," says Gary Sr., a 49-year-old retired bodyguard from Central Point, as he ushers his prot�g� through the Providence Medford Medical Center Thursday. "He has no idea yet just how incredible he�ll feel," Gary Sr. says, "how great it is to brighten some sick person�s day as Santa." But this Santa-mantle journey is no smooth sledding. After starting as a 14-year-old Santa at an Oakland, Calif., Christmas tree lot in 1965, Gary Sr. says it took years before the suit truly fit the man. The elder Santa then began making the rounds at Bay area hospitals, injecting a little cheer among the fear in emergency rooms and intensive-care wards. Along the way, he developed a bellowing laugh and infectious personality that allows him to strike up pleasant conversations on everything from babies to bedpans. Gary Jr. watched his dad at work, first as an elf 10 years ago and later as a sleighbell-jingler. The last of four kids, he is the only offspring to bear the weight of the Santa suit. "I just always wanted to do it," Gary Jr. says, "to follow in my dad�s footsteps." Those footsteps are now following his father down the halls of Providence�s patient wards, ducking into rooms to spread a bit of Christmas spirit. The pupil has worn the suit just once before, spending two hours outside a Medford Jiffy-Lube practicing the parade wave � slowly, "like an old man," the teacher says. But Providence is providing Gary Jr.�s first face-to-beard contact. He greets 85-year-old patient Lois Hodgson with a slightly more convincing "Merry Christmas," and chats with her about times gone by. The Gomes duo leaves, one walking a little more confidently, the other a little more proudly. "He did wonderful," Hodgson says after Santa departs. "He has personality, and that�s half of everything. It�s half of anybody." Gary Jr. always had the charitable personality that Gary Sr. says is needed for the Santa role. Once while watching a Special Olympics softball game, senior remembers spying junior pushing kids� wheelchairs through the gravel under White City�s hot August sun. That kind of heart helps in playing Santa. So does the stamina. It�s hot under a white beard and chamois suit. But above all, the father says, his son has the smiling eyes of a Santa. "It�s hard for people to see you smiling through the whiskers," Gary Sr. says. "But you can smile through your eyes, and he�s got good eyes. He�ll do well." By the time the Gomeses reach the dialysis area, junior is doing better. The younger Gary still won�t attempt a hearty "ho-ho-ho" � teen hormones make the last "ho" squeak. Then a frail-looking woman folded into a hospital bed tells Santa how nice it is to see him, how she has just been taken off life-support systems and how wonderful it is that he took the time to visit. Gary Jr. gives his best "Merry Christmas" yet and struts down the hallway. "Watching my dad, I�ve seen people get so cheered up by it, and I wanted to be part of that," the son says. "And I just got it, right there." But the emergency room�s waiting area is where the true litmus test comes � kids. Four-year-old William Donnelly sees Gary Jr. and bolts from his father�s side. William shakes Santa�s hand, declares that he�s been a good boy and takes Santa�s offer for a spot on the jolly one�s lap. The 4-year-old looks with wonder at the 14-year-old�s twinkling eyes. Adults hover, smirking at how Santa and the child have the same boyish skin. William says he wants a Hot Wheels Tornado Twister, something his father, Rick Donnelly, didn�t know. William skips away, elated with Santa success. "That was cool," William says. "That was great. Did you see that? That was SANTA CLAUS ." Reach reporter Mark Freeman at 776-4470, or e-mail [email protected] Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2000 Mail Tribune, Inc.