Word of Wisdom Helps Santa Lose Weight
By John Degel

Editor’s note:  LDS Santa John Degel recently wrote an article about one of his experiences with a dying child.  Read “Ana’s Gift of Love to Santa” here.

One of the first articles I ever read in Meridian Magazine was about being fat (Life Inside a Fat Suit: One Person’s Story).  At 5’11 and now 390 pounds (down from 470 in January) the article struck home, or hit deep, depending on your attitude of attack.

But I consider fat, in my case, to be a blessing and not a curse. True, I have weight and size issues, and I’m learning to deal with them.

It is an old Indian tradition to eat when there’s plenty and struggle through the lean times. This is one of the few traits of my ancestors I embraced wholeheartedly when food — especially rich, sweet, yummy food — was available.

I always enjoyed good food, good wine and good alcohol — until I joined the Church this past January.  Now I take the Word of Wisdom seriously and attribute my new status to my weight loss — that and a threat by my boss that I was too fat to be an effective Santa!

That’s right.

Santa.

I am a professional, real-bearded mall Santa. This is a career I got into because of my size approximately seven years ago.

I’ve played Santa since high school, when I helped my father prepare himself for the role. He spent an evening with a group of developmentally disabled children and talked about it for the rest of his life.

I started as the jolly old saint during a tour in Vietnam in 1970. This was an interesting experience considering most Vietnamese considered my red and white costume to be that of a demon and they would run in terror from me.  Back in the States I would amplify my modest salary as a sergeant in the Army by making house calls during the Christmas season. I would also occasionally don the suit for a local business or organization.

When I was invited to join a group of real-bearded Santas and work malls around the country, it didn’t take me long to decide it was a great idea. A real incentive was when I found out the job averaged $1,000 a week, plus expenses, for a beginner.  I jumped into the business and never looked back.

In those days, my weight was about 290, so I didn’t have any real problem. Once I grew my beard and had it bleached white, I never had any comments about my weight — well, not as many as before the beard.

Accidental Setbacks

In 2001, I had an accident that tore the muscles and ligaments on my right knee loose. This injury immediately brought an end to my pastimes of hiking, camping, fishing and hunting.  In fact, I was lucky to get around with a cane, after the first few months.

Unfortunately, my knee wasn’t healed when Christmas came around again and I ended up dandling (that’s a fancy word for bouncing) children on my knee.  More than 11,000 children sat on my lap that season, and my knee couldn’t seem to recover.

And the weight started piling on. It came slowly at first, but faster and faster after Christmas, 2001.

I was trying to careful with my right knee and didn’t notice a patch of snow on the sidewalk outside the mall I was working at. I fell and broke my left kneecap.  That was a pleasant Christmas season, let me tell you.  Luckily, there were only a few weeks left, and I managed to get through without any problems — other than immobility.  Since I couldn’t afford surgery, I simply slapped some elastic wraps on both legs and went about my daily routine as a newspaper reporter; but I noticed the depth of my stories changed as I was unable to get around as much before.

Before the accidents, and my weight gain, I used to enjoy jumping into the arena and getting rodeo pictures up close and personal.  There’s something about a 2,000 pound bull coming at you that provides a real rush.  Things change when you lose your agility, however.  The adrenaline rush is a little less exciting when your declining mobility increases the possibility of your turning into a shish kebab on the horns of an angry bull.

By the next year I was close to 350 pounds, but able to get around.  I did notice clothes were beginning to get a little more expensive as I left the aisles of K-Mart for Big and Tall and Omar the Tentmaker brands of clothing.

Children begin to comment as well.

“Boy, Santa, you got a big belly. You need to cut down on the cookies!” These words of wisdom came from a five-year-old girl in Champagne-Urbana, Illinois.  Other comments came fast and furious as the years passed.

By 2005 I was up to 470 pounds, and there was very little lap left to dandle (I love that word) a child on. The agency hiring me told me I would have to lose at least 30 pounds if I wanted to work the next season.  Things were getting serious.  Times had to change — and they did, with a bang.

Invisible Hands

I spent New Year’s Day in the Malta Montana Branch of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints with my newspaper employers, who had always impressed me with their lives and lifestyle. That afternoon, I asked to be contacted so I could take discussions.  I was baptized on January 21 — and was given ample proof I had made the right choice.

Envision a 470-pound man with damaged knees, being immersed in the baptismal font.  I was baptized by my boss, Curtis Starr, who wasn’t half my size and who had little or no hope of bringing me up swiftly.  He and our branch president, Joe Humbert, had serious doubts I’d resurface on my own after the baptism.  They made plans to have one of the witnesses (Alex Suggs — who also ran a weightlifting gym) jump in and pull me up if something went bad.

As I went under, I felt a warms and love envelope me I’d never expected.  I also felt something else I never expected.  While completely submerged, I felt two strong hands center on my back below my shoulder blades and push me up — pushing up so firmly and powerfully I literally came out of the water, passing right by Brother Sugg’s outstretched hand and settling down – upright – on my own feet.  It created quite an impression on several of those attending, as I was to learn during the next testimony meeting.

Melting off the Pounds

About the time I was baptized, I began taking the Word of Wisdom seriously.  By April 30, when I was ordained into the Melchizedek Priesthood, I was down to 400 pounds.  I had dropped from a 70-inch waist and 23-inch neck to a 60-inch waist, a 21-inch neck and 15EEEE size shoes.  I did it without dieting. I did, however, begin watching what I was eating and controlling excessive amounts of food.

Children have noticed the weight loss (many of the children in my hometown are thrilled by the fact Santa lives there part-time), and they tell me it’s more fun to sit on my lap now because they don’t worry about sliding off.

As I write this, my waist is just at 58 inches, my neck size is 20 ½ inches and 13 EE shoes.

The knees are still bad (well, the right one is, I just injured it again last month), but the loss of weight was immediately noticeable as the pressure on them was lessened and the pain decreased.

I wear a brace on my right knee, but I can live with that.  What I couldn’t live with is not being able to be a fat, jolly Santa.

I’ve found a calling in being someone well-known to children who is always there for them without a lot of rigorous demands.

They know I want them to be good, and they know equally well, I’ll love them even if they slip once in a while.

Sometimes, Santa is the only person who will demonstrate love for a child — unbelievable as that may seem.  I’ve visited orphanages, children’s shelters, women’s shelters, hospitals, retirement homes and even jails, taking with me my own brand of love and letting those I visit know I’m not the only one who loves them.

A fat, jolly Santa has an eager audience willing to accept the fact that Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son love them unconditionally. This is something a skinny, hairy guy in a funny suit couldn’t carry off.  Every visit I end is closed by my loving entreaty to “Remember the Reason for the Season!”

I still have a way to go with my weight loss. I want to lose enough weight to reach a goal of 310 pounds — optimum Santa weight, according to advertising and film standards.  I’ll get there.  I’ve got lots of help at this and other levels encouraging me and urging me on.