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History of the Town of
Santa Claus, Indiana
The Naming of the Town
In the late 1840s, a group of settlers—mostly of German
descent—formed a small community in Spencer County in Southern
Indiana. Although they no doubt had to deal with the day-to-day
struggles of pioneer life, the weightiest problem that plagued them
was the lack of a name for their town. In fact, the community became
known as the "nameless town." The naming of the town of Santa Claus
is such a charming story that it was featured on Christmas Eve,
1992, on renowned radio news commentator Paul Harvey’s "The Rest of
the Story" program. Here is the story Mr. Harvey told to millions of
listeners world-wide:
And now…THE REST OF THE STORY:
Never in history did a town have so much trouble naming itself than
the town of…well, that, see, that was the problem. The town didn’t
have a name--not even an unofficial one. There were many
suggestions, but every time somebody made a suggestion, it was
discovered that some other town already had that name.
How did the folks find their way to the "nameless town"? Well,
people who lived on the gently rolling hillscape of southern Indiana
would simply point and say, "Over yonder is the ‘nameless town.’" So
that’s exactly what they came to call it until one Friday night,
late in 1852, on Christmas Eve. And this is The Rest of the Story…
The Christmas Eve service had just concluded in the little log
church, and everybody was there. [It was] as good a time as any to
hold a final town meeting of the year, one citizen decided. As had
often been the case through the years of town meetings since the
community’s founding, there was only one order of business that
night: a name for the "nameless town."
All were gathered around the pot-bellied, wood-burning stove. The
circuit riding preacher, who had just preached the service, was
there, too. He was a popular fellow—the Reverend Christian
Wyttenbach. So esteemed was this minister that somebody suggested
naming the town Wyttenbach, Indiana. But I think it was the reverend
himself who respectfully declined; after all he didn’t even live
there.
The frustrating discussion continued. Now when I mention "everyone
there," I mean everybody; children--although quiet and not
participating--children were included. But then, with a chilly
December gust, the door of the church blew open. It was the adults
who fell silent and it was the youngsters who suddenly came to life.
For beyond the picture-framed doorway was a magical scene of
snowflakes winking on black velvet, and the magical sound of sleigh
bells.
But whose sleigh might it be? All were present, remember--and nobody
else for miles and miles around except…that’s right. And as the
children ran to the doorway they excitedly shouted the name that
every grownup was thinking, "Santa Claus!" they cried. "It’s Santa
Claus!"
Thus one Christmas Eve, 140 years ago tonight, because of some bells
that nobody’s ever been able to trace, the little nameless town
received its name: Santa Claus, Indiana; and it is so named to this
day. The population no longer numbers in the dozens--there are 1,200
residents now. And in a sense you might say that there are
12-hundred-and-one. For each and every Christmas season, hundreds of
thousands of letters arrive in the town’s post office. Letters come
from all over the world with but a single name inscribed upon them.
The inscriptions are often scrawled in crayon, but the letters are
sent in utmost sincerity. Of course, you know what the name is on
all those envelopes, and you know why those letters arrive where
they do ’cause, well, because you know The Rest of the Story.
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