The perks of being a mall Santa

In a dimly lit candle-store-turned-dressing-room at the Indiana Mall, Robert Sanford, 65,… In a dimly lit candle-store-turned-dressing-room at the Indiana Mall, Robert Sanford, 65, carefully combs his foot-long white beard.

He readjusts his fur-trimmed velvet hat and, with a final tug at his black boot covers, strolls out toward a purple, glitter-peaked castle — his new “home” for the holiday season, located somewhere between Kings Jewelry and a Verizon Wireless store.

Sanford is running a bit late — he was supposed to make his grand entrance at noon — but when he finally arrives at the set at 12:06 p.m., the small army of restless children in line erupts in applause.

“I love it, absolutely love it,” said Sanford, whose Black Friday appearance jumpstarted the mall’s season of holiday meet-and-greets with Santa Claus. The Kittanning native is one of almost 30,000 round-bellied actors who will portray the Jolly Old Elf at more than 15,000 malls nationwide this holiday season, according to the International Council of Shopping Centers.

In 2007 alone, the average mall Santa visited with more than 120 shoppers per day, distributing up to 3,750 candy canes, coloring books and sticker sheets to good girls and boys — and in some instances, patient parents, too.

That’s a lot of fidgety kids, even for the most copious of Santa laps. But for many mall actors, it’s just part of the job.

At the Galleria at Pittsburgh Mills in Tarentum, a silver-haired Richard Barr greets children six days per week as the mall’s primary Santa.

The 79-year-old great-grandfather said that, despite being in retirement for 16 years, he took the job because he loves children.

“If you’re gonna do this job, you have to,” he said from his perch on an oversized sleigh bench bedecked in red velvet cushions. “If you’re gonna do it for the money, you might as well go home.”

A two-year veteran of the Santa gig, Barr rests perfectly content amid the forest-themed set, where he sits inside a faux ceiling-scraping tree flanked with gold and green doors.

Beyond his bench, a crowd of visitors snakes through a path of fake trees, artificial snow and a pen of real rabbits, greeted with a looping DVD of “The Polar Express” and stacks of photo package ordering forms — prices start at $14.95.

The first visitors of the hour are a pair of young siblings, and Santa greets them with a hearty laugh.

Their mother wants a basic 5-by-7-inch photo with Santa, so she gingerly places the kids on his lap. The photographer waves a brightly colored stuffed animal to catch their attention, and — as if on cue — both kids simultaneously burst into tears.

“And another year without a Santa photo,” sighs the mom as she wrangles the screaming kids.

Barr waves goodbye — much to the kids’ torment — but he shrugs off the encounter.

“I don’t want kids to be traumatized,” he said with a chuckle.

To assist with camera-shy children, it is essential that mall Santas have a calming demeanor, said Steve Hardin, president of photography company Insta-Plak, Inc.

Based in Toledo, Ohio, IPI annually contracts Santas to more than 200 malls across the nation. In 2009, it had partnered with about 40 malls in Pennsylvania, including the Galleria at Pittsburgh Mills.

Hardin estimates that his 400 total Santas will see up to 10,000 children this year — and all are carefully selected for the job.

“We hire Santas that have a heart for the part,” Hardin said.

Once selected, Santas receive a printed preparation manual and are encouraged to attend training seminars and conventions. The company also offers area coaches to assist actors with getting into character, he said.

About 10 Pennsylvania area coaches are responsible for ensuring that photos run smoothly, visiting lines flow quickly and Santas are always dressed for the part.

And while on the set, coaches must be sure that the actors remain in character: The bearded men are not permitted to eat while in costume or refer to themselves as anything other than “Santa.”

Alcohol and tobacco also are strictly forbidden, Hardin said, adding that, “I don’t believe Santa drinks or smokes.”

Similar national photography companies, such as Cherry Hill Photo Enterprises of Marlton, N.J., enroll newly hired Santas in a rigorous “Santa Claus University” training program, while others, like Naturally Santa of Colorado Springs, Colo., hold training retreats and character photo shoots to inspire Santa pride.

But despite the training regimen, Barr insists that becoming Santa is a matter of heart.

“Loving kids was nothing to train,” he said.

Almost equally important to the Santa’s affinity for children is his appearance, and it’s almost an industry standard to hire only bearded actors, Hardin said.

“Santa has a natural white beard, so we want his helpers to also have a white, natural beard,” he said.

For Sanford, it was his beard that initially attracted him to the Santa position.

He began to grow his trademark facial hair as a practical joke, but following his wife’s death two years ago, he stopped shaving altogether.

Sanford’s daughter, Kittanning native Tina Yasir, said the beard found its calling while on a family vacation to Rhode Island in June, when a few children mistook the retired veteran for St. Nick himself.

“They came and sat on his lap and said, ‘This is what I want for Christmas,’” she said.

Yasir posted a photo of the bearded beachgoer on Craigslist.com, and within a few weeks, he was hired for the job.

As an added bonus, Yasir said, Sanford’s physical physique was ideal for portraying Santa.

“He has his own padding,” she said with a laugh.

Like Sanford, Barr does not require a padded suit — but it’s not for an abundant belly.

The Santa look-a-like donned the padding during a shift last season, but he was not impressed with the extra weight.

“One day with that thing hanging around my neck, and I just couldn’t do it,” he said, adding that the belly took up most of his lap. “This is a healthy Santa Claus.”

IPI owns the Santa costume, which is complete with a velvet hat, coat and pants, a black belt, shiny boots and crisp, white gloves — all fur trimmed, of course.

Barr’s own icy blue eyes, fake spectacles and snowy beard — which he bleached specifically for the job — round out the look.

While he maintains that the suit is convincing enough, Barr does have one complaint.

“It’s really hot. I almost have a heat stroke,” he said. “What I need is one of those astronaut suits with one of those coolants in it.”

The heat, though, is more bearable than some of the Christmas requests children have made.

Barr recalls one young girl who asked Santa that her parents not divorce, while another requested a liver transplant for his father. Some ask for prayer, and others request that a family member returns from war.

“You see kids here, junior high and high school kids, even, and they’re asking for world peace,” Barr said. “It breaks your heart.”

Most of the requests, though, are material — and for shy children, the Pittsburgh Mills Santa set includes a drop-off bag for letters to Santa.

So far this season, Barr said, he’s received requests ranging from laptops and cell phones to ponies and real dinosaurs, and as per usual, Legos, Nintendos and action figures remain big-ticket items.

Sanford once had a 300-pound man sit upon his lap and request a Buick, and another year, two small infants graced Sanford’s lap and, when asked their Christmas lists, promptly spit up.

While he tries not to guarantee any gift request, he constantly seeks to remind children to be good throughout the year.

“This one kid said, ‘If I get all my stuff, I promise, I won’t hit my brother in the face anymore,” Sanford said with a laugh.

“But I just told them, ‘The better you are, the more you’ll get.’”