Detroit — Santa has two bum knees, a bad transmission, and is in need of a tax attorney to expand his charitable work. You see, Christmas isn’t one day of the year to Myron Benford, Detroit’s black Santa. It’s everyday.
“There are people in our community who have a lot of needs,” said Benford, 80. “But they have a lot of respect for themselves and are unwilling to ask. I try to seek out those individuals, and in doing so, try to uplift them. I try to do that with the hope that Christmas will last to the next day, and the day after that. What does it hurt to give of yourself?”
Benford has been playing Santa for 55 years now. His sleigh is a chopped Dodge minivan, painted red, with two life-sized reindeer welded to the grill. You’ll see him driving up Gratiot Avenue on Christmas Eve, an enormous man in a red suit and size 16 EE boots, presents in the cab, whiskers in the wind.
He’s never been given the keys to the city, but the children of the city of Detroit and the children before them have awarded Benford the keys to their hearts. He is quite probably the only Santa in America who actually delivers presents to your doorstep on Christmas Eve. Rain, snow, or sunshine.
Benford brings ham for the tables. First-aid kits and smoke alarms for the house. Gloves for mamma. A hat for papa. And toys for the children. All of it donated. No one asks, and no one needs to. Santa understands needs are enormous in these troubling economic times. And what he really brings in those small packages is a helping of human compassion.
“When people see me out here, they know and believe Santa still lives,” Benford said. “Santa’s real. Not like in the movies. You actually see a sled and reindeers. And when it’s snowing, you actually believe those reindeers are pulling the sled. When I see those faces, that’s my reward.”
It’s not that people ask for too much, Santa confided. It’s that people ask for too little. Instead of asking for peace on Earth, they ask for keys to a car, or a new fish, or a tall handsome man.
A sign painter by trade, Benford never went to Santa school, never worked the mall circuit, and has never charged for kindness. You will find him at the local library this time of year, or the historical museum, or on a neighborhood street corner passing out packages.
St. Nicholas has no color, said Glenda Brown, who plays the dutiful Mrs. Claus to Mr. Benford’s Santa. “Children love Santa. Unfortunately, it’s the older people who see the color, not the children. Then, as an afterthought, she said: “Not the young people, nor might I add, the young of heart.”
The story of how Santa and Mrs. Claus met is a beautiful one indeed: It was a convention at Cobo Hall some years ago. He was stationed in one vendor’s stall, she in another. They drifted together like two flakes in a snowfall.
I had worried about the Clauses. I hadn’t seen Santa since before the pandemic. I feared we had lost him. Thankfully not so, because it is people like Myron Benford who make a city a city. Not bricks, not buildings. I was happy to see him and Mrs. Claus at the Detroit Historical Museum this past weekend, posing for photos with young children, and middle-aged women perched upon his arthritic bones.
Sadly, no one will see Santa in his sleigh this Christmas. “The transmission gave way,” Benford explained. “And so the sleigh and reindeer are currently in storage at the South Pole.” (Santa referred to the South Pole by its old Algonquin name—Downriver.)
“Hey listen, can you do me a favor?” asked the most unselfish man I know as I was readying to leave. “If you hear of anybody who’s got an old mail truck, that would be perfect for carrying presents,” he said hopefully. “And if you know a good tax lawyer, I need to set-up a 501(c)(3) so I can expand my charity. I just don’t know how to do it.”
“Yes Myron,” I promised. “I will ask.”
Charlie LeDuff is a reporter educated in public schools.
