How Santa Claus Came to Des Moines in 1923

Santa Claus on his way to the Younker 
Brother store, with acting mayor,
Mrs. C. H. Morris

Santa blew into Des Moines on November 17, 1923, long before anyone expected him. Kids weren’t ready. Parents weren’t ready. Even the weather wasn’t ready. Yet there he was, swooping in like Christmas couldn’t wait another minute.

By sunrise, thousands of children were already downtown, crowding the sidewalks and pressing their noses to the toy-land windows of the big stores. One reporter joked the shelves held enough toys “to fill the bags of 10,000 Saint Nicks,” and judging by the wide-eyed faces in the crowds, most kids believed that was true.

 

The Des Moines Tribune swore that “never in the history of Des Moines has Christmas spirit gotten off to an earlier start than this year,” and they weren’t kidding. There was a Christmas parade, free taxi rides, and chocolate teddy bears—real chocolate teddy bears—dropping out of the sky.

 

Santa made his grand entrance a little after nine o’clock at the Harris-Emery store. He didn’t sneak down a chimney or clomp in with reindeer hooves. He went big. He flew over Des Moines in a high-powered airplane, circling the city like a jolly red barnstormer. Kids pointed at the sky. Mothers shaded their eyes. Fathers muttered things like, “Good grief, he’s actually doing it.”

 

Santa Claus stopped to hand a child a present
on the way to the Harris-Emery Store

Then, the chocolate teddy bears started falling.

 

Dozens of them drifted down on tiny parachutes, wobbling in the cold November wind. As soon as they hit the ground at Sweeney Field, hundreds of children took off in a sprint. The Harris-Emery Company had sent a long line of bright yellow taxicabs to bring them out for free, and now the kids were making the most of it—laughing, sliding, chasing bears across the grass while Santa’s plane landed.

 

When he climbed out of the cockpit, he traded his airplane for a shiny new car and rolled downtown like the most important man in the world. He stopped at the Rock Island depot, waving to the crowds gathered on the platforms. Then he headed to Younker’s, where he held a special reception for every youngster who squeezed inside. The line stretched forever, but somehow no one complained. It was Santa. You waited.

 

At eleven sharp, families streamed to the Orpheum Theatre, where every child who wanted one could watch a free Bobolink Book Party play. It was a morning that made kids feel like the entire city had turned into a giant Christmas card.

 

By the time Santa finished his rounds, Des Moines wasn’t just ready for the holidays—it was glowing. The Christmas spirit had landed early that year, parachuting out of the sky one chocolate teddy bear at a time.

(Pictures from the Des Moines Tribune. November 17, 1923)