In the Nick of Time : Santa Role a Wish Come True for the Unemployed Father of Four

Unshaven and sipping a Big Gulp, Don Dujardan arrived at his job at Oxnard’s Centerpoint Mall as he has each morning for the last 26 days, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.

Less than two minutes later, he emerged from a dressing room disguised in a Santa Claus suit, complete with red cap and flowing white beard.

A father of four, Dujardan likes the steady work of sitting on a regal, red-cushioned chair in the middle of the mall, surrounded by plastic snow and boxes in Christmas wrapping.

“I told my oldest girl that she should believe in Santa Claus, ‘cause if it wasn’t for Santa her daddy wouldn’t have a job,” Dujardan said.

He said the $6 an hour that he earns during the holiday season will help him and his wife buy presents for their children this Christmas.

Despite his meager wage, Dujardan has extended the Christmas spirit to a handful of people by offering to pay for the $6 photos that some of the poorer families can’t buy.

“You get some people who come in here and their children are so excited to sit on Santa’s lap, but they just don’t have the money,” he said.

Dujardan knows about tough times and is not beyond dipping into his own pocket to help out a parent. On Tuesday, he helped two families purchase photos of their kids on his lap, when they were short of cash. He said the recession sometimes finds its way into children’s Christmas wishes.

“You know the kids will ask if I can get their parents back together or they ask for a job for their dad. We get that a lot out here,” Dujardan said.

Dujardan hasn’t had a steady job since injuring his back in 1988. For a time he was able to keep a fledgling pool-cleaning business afloat. But his work has been interrupted by four back surgeries for the herniated disks he suffered after falling while carrying a stove at work for the Oxnard school district.

The job in the Santa costume, he said, just dropped into his lap. A friend who thought he would be perfect for the part recommended Dujardan to the woman running the mall’s Santa photo business. Facing the possibility of a bleak Christmas with few gifts, Dujardan jumped at the opportunity.

“This job came at the right time,” he said. “Just in time for the holidays.”

Since the day after Thanksgiving, when the Centerpoint Mall carried him by helicopter to work in his Santa suit, Dujardan has greeted each day with the air of a seasoned Santa professional. He can change into his suit and beard in less than two minutes, and he already knows the tricks of the trade.

“It’s pretty easy really, but the key is probably not to promise the kids anything, because if they don’t get it you’ll destroy their image of Santa,” Dujardan said.

And parents can still count on that image of Santa as the man who sees who’s been naughty or nice to keep their children in line.

When Selina Thomson’s 4-year-old girl Kiana started crying in the middle of the mall all Thomson had to do was point at Dujardan and say: “Santa’s watching. He’s going to know you’re not being good,” and her daughter got quiet real fast.

When the children come to Dujardan, he said his trick is just to listen. He gives the children a pat on the back, and tells them he’ll do what he can to fulfill their Christmas wishes.

The requests are often the same, one of the latest toys, such as Barbie dolls or electronic video games. A few kids have asked for world peace, he said.

Small children are often too frightened or transfixed by this big man in a red suit with a huge white beard to say much of anything.

Omar Diaz, 2, was coaxed up the small steps by his mother and then onto Dujardan’s knee. He silently stared at Dujardan’s fake white beard, gave it a light tug and then looked out to his mother for instructions.

“Tell him what you want,” she said in Spanish.

Omar only looked down shyly and said nothing. Dujardan gave him a few words of encouragement, handed him a candy cane and sent him back to his mother.

“Most of the kids want the same sort of toys,” said Dujardan, “so if they’re too scared to say anything I’ll ask them ‘do you want a car or do you want a doll,’ and that usually covers it,” Dujardan said.

Some children have prepared lists. One afternoon, Dujardan carefully took a list of scribbles scrolled onto a paper towel from a young girl and another more elaborate scroll from a boy who also thought he would fare better if he offered Dujardan a candy cane.

“That’s what I like about the job--that the kids love you so much,” he said. “It’s fun seeing a kid’s face light up every time they see you.”

Times photographer Carlos Chavez contributed to this story.