THE OLD GAS STATION
Santa Claus is north-west of Kingman on US 93 and began life in 1937 when Los Angeles realtor Nina Talbot bought 80 acres in Arizona and began a motel (originally called the Kit Carson Guest House). For reasons best known to Mrs Talbot, she decided to give the place a Santa Claus theme, probably with the intention of attracting buyers for the surrounding lots. She did claim to be the biggest real estate agent in the area, although that may have had more to do with the fact that she weighed over 22 stone than her business acumen.
IN THE 1940S, THIS GIANT BILLBOARD ENTICED VISITORS AS THEY PASSED OVER THE HOOVER DAM
While building Santa Claus’s village in the middle of the Arizona desert seems an odd idea, it turned out to be surprisingly successful in attracting tourists, but not in selling the parcels of lands. Although it was designated a town, the only people who actually lived there were those who worked at the inn or in the US Post Office or the land sales office. Mrs Talbot sold the place in 1949 by which time it was a genuine tourist attraction.
The land sales office was converted into a Texaco station and Kit Carson’s Guest House was renamed as the Santa Claus Inn and, in the 1950s, the Christmas Tree Inn. It had Santa’s Workshop, the House of the Three Pigs and Cinderella’s Dolls House and the ‘Old 1225’ train.
CINDERELLA’S DOLLS HOUSE IS LONG GONE
THE DERELICT RESTAURANT
Curiously, for a roadside attraction, it had a very good air-conditioned restaurant which noted food critic Duncan Hines called one of the best in the region. (Mind you, if you know the Kingman area, you’ll know there’s not all that much competition).
Robert Heinlein wrote about it in ‘Cliff and the Calories’, a short story published in 1950, listing the menu’s dishes, while Hollywood legend Jane Russell would host a dinner for ten friends at the restaurant four years later.
WISHING WELL
Santa Claus’s busiest time was, fittingly, December of each year when, for 25 cents and a stamp, employees would write to children, the envelope postmarked Santa Claus. Thousands of letters were sent out to hopeful kids.
But, by the 1970s, Santa Claus was in terminal decline. Although, back in the 1950s, there had been plans to capitalise on the Christmas theme by setting out streets with festive names (like Prancer Parkway), people only stopped in Santa Claus long enough to eat a meal or fill their tanks. It was up for sale for $95,000 in 1983, the then owner turning down an offer of $50,000 because he felt it was worth more. He relisted it in 1988 for $52,500. It’s still for sale. It was removed from the Arizona state map, the last remaining businesses closed in 1995, and the surviving residents moved out, too.
THE HOUSE OF THE THIRD LITTLE PIG AT ITS PRIME
THE HOUSE OF THE THIRD LITTLE PIG TODAY
SANTA CLAUS GAS STATION IN 1940 WITH CINDERELLA’S DOLLS HOUSE IN THE BACKGROUND
Sadly, its roadside location in the middle of nowhere, the very thing that made it a success for weary travellers on the way to Las Vegas, has been its downfall as vandals moved in. And children’s letters to Father Christmas? They now go to Santa Claus, Indiana.
UPDATE: And then, ironically just before Christmas 2021, it was gone. Now all that remains is a patch of waste land and an old billboard.
Clyde was two years old himself when his parents, Victor and Lydia, moved to Palmetto from Santa Rosa, California, no doubt hopeful of making that big strike and never dreaming they would lose both their sons so tragically. The marker only mentions Clyde, and people have often assumed that Kenneth was buried with him. However the little boy lies alone, his younger brother having died and been buried in Silver Peak, another town to the north west. The Blair News reported that Mrs Hart had ‘been quite ill for several days prior to starting for California, her illness being aggravated by the mental anguish of the loss of the children in so short a time.’
After burying their children, the Harts continued back to California; Lydia gave birth to a son, Alan, almost exactly a year to the day after Clyde’s death, and a daughter, Evelyn, in 1910. Both Lydia and Victor lived into old age, Victor dying in 1958 at the age of 80 and Lydia living until she was 97 and they are buried beside each other in the Oddfellows Cemetery in Sacramento. Having lost two children so young, it must have been a consolation that their son and daughter lived long and full lives. Alan died in 1994 and Evelyn just nine years ago aged 96. Did the family ever come back to Palmetto to visit the grave or was it too painful a part of their life?
I thought at first how odd it was that there are no other graves in the area, but because Palmetto existed for such a short time – the silver that was struck lasted barely a year – it could be that the little Hart boys were the only people to die out in this lonely place. But the toys and paraphernalia on the grave (I left a toy car) show that they are not forgotten.
By 1861, it had a population of around 1200, with accompanying saloons, hotels and boarding houses, as well as stabling for those travelling between the Comstock Lode mines of Virginia City and processing mills. Devils Gate,
Silver City managed to thrive until the completion of the Virginia & Truckee Railroad in 1869 after which the population quickly moved away. Now about 100 or so people live there, most of whom probably knew I was there. It is a little bit The Hills Have Eyes. Apparently, the cemetery is worth a visit, but it appeared to be on the other side of the road closure.
NEVER QUITE LOST 