‘Country Santa’ spreads joy to poor children : With no government help, he gathers presents for 1,250 needy kids in 5 South Carolina counties.

Calling Buddy Cox sentimental about Christmas is something of an understatement. He’s downright weepy-eyed, handkerchief-sopping emotional about it.

He sniffles watching “Miracle on 34th Street.” Church friends singing ‘O Holy Night’ give him goose bumps. And the 43-year-old engineer says he finds nothing worse than thinking of children with no toys under the tree on Christmas morning.

Because he feels that way, 15 years ago, Cox bought the biggest doll he could find to take to a skinny 6-year-old named Mary Ann.

“It broke my heart,” Cox said, recalling both her poverty and her delight. “I decided that it was the time to do something.”

Cox’s “something” has blossomed into an annual feast of giving. Last year, he and his family and friends delivered presents to 1,250 needy children in a five-county area in the foothills of western South Carolina. This year, Cox expects to at least match that number.

Known here as “Country Santa,” Cox receives no financial assistance from any governmental agency or charitable organization. But last year he collected more than $50,000 worth of toys from people who had heard of his efforts.

In this part of the world, mail addressed to Santa Claus, North Pole, winds up in the mailbox at his rustic home on 26 acres in the shadow of Table Rock, one of South Carolina’s best-known mountains.

“This is really a magical thing,” he said. “We’re not able to change their whole world, but we’re able to touch them, to show someone cares.”

The quiet beauty of the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains presents a sharp contrast to the stark poverty of many residents here. Some live in dilapidated homes with dirt floors. Rusty, worn trailers dot cornfields yellowed by winter frost. To some children in the foothills, heavy coats and new shoes are a luxury.

Cox himself has known hard times. He was 10 when his father left the family in Cross Hill, S.C., a town of 600 people about 75 miles from here. His mother earned $50 a week as a bookkeeper to provide for Cox and his two sisters.

“I realize what my mother sacrificed to have a few things under the tree,” he said.

Fifteen years ago, Cox and his wife, Nelle, moved here from Greenville, S.C., the largest city in the region. Cox sells waste-water treatment systems, and in his rural travels, he saw the distress of his neighbors.

Sometime before Christmas that year, an elementary school principal who was a friend asked him to buy a pair of shoes for Mary Ann. The principal told him that the girl had come to school showing off her only Christmas present: a tattered rag doll that looked as if it had been snatched from a trash can. That year, Cox provided her with Christmas toys, then decided to give to two or three other families.

Word spread. Soon, pastors, teachers and civic leaders were calling with the names of more needy families, and Cox began to solicit help.

Now, contributions come from all over. This year, students in a school for children with behavior problems repaired and spruced up about 60 bicycles for Cox. A preschool collected pennies, nickels and dollars to donate.

Eventually, the project grew so large that Cox built a 30-foot-square wooden building outside his house to store the gifts he collected.

To “shop” Cox pulls a child’s card, which lists the name, age, and any special requests, and fills up a big plastic trash bag for each boy and girl.

Cynics say he is a soft touch who has been hoodwinked by people too lazy to support their families.

Cox responds: “I’m sure we’ve been taken by families before, but that’s not a reason to not help all of these other kids. The kids can’t help it.”

Each year, Cox spends the day before Christmas directing the delivery of the toys. In the last few years, he has started delivering canned goods as well.

On Christmas Eve, Cox’s quarter-mile-long driveway looks something like the entrance to Dodger Stadium on bat day. About 120 cars and trucks move in and out of the one-lane dirt drive, so many that he has to post helpers with walkie-talkies on either end to direct traffic.

Cox said he believes that he and the people who help him get as much out of their work as they give. One year, when a man helping with deliveries saw children with no coats, he not only gave them his, he also handed over the coats of his children. Another man who delivered a box of canned goods to a family and saw their destitution went to the store and bought them more.

Until one comes face to face with poverty, Cox said, “It’s so easy for people to ignore or not to see.”