Annapolis Stories: Robert Campbell - Annapolis' Santa Claus

Once upon a time, not too long ago, a jolly man with a big laugh and even bigger heart worked tirelessly to bestow gifts on the people of Annapolis.

If you know Robert Campbell, it's not hard to imagine him as Jolly Old St. Nick, masquerading as an auctioneer, politician and family man. His entire life has been dedicated to serving the community he lives in.

"There's a picture of me around here somewhere," Mr. Campbell says, standing before a wall of photos, awards and honors bestowed upon of him for years of public service. "It's one where I'm standing with Gov. (Albert C.) Ritchie in front of the Circle Theatre wearing a sailor hat."

Robert Campbell was a little boy then, attending one of the special movie events the governor put on during the 1920s for the children of Annapolis the day after Christmas. In those segregated times, the governor would first hold a movie party at the Star Theatre for African-American children. Then he'd come down to the whites-only Circle Theatre and repeat the performance, once again sitting in the movie house with the kids and taking pictures with them afterwards. "He was really ahead of his time," Mr. Campbell says, of Mr. Ritchie, whowas governor from 1920 to 1935, and who took political heat for a controversial stand in favor of prosecuting the perpetrators of a lynching on the Eastern Shore. "The best governor we ever had."

Listening to Robert Campbell talk about Mr. Ritchie, you begin to understand how politics, public service and the spirit of serving community influenced who he is today.

At age 15, he started as a poll runner and continued an active role in civic government for over five decades, serving as alderman, county commissioner, county councilman, mayor and even postmaster to the General Assembly.

If you've been around town anytime in the last 40 years or so, chances are you've either known Mr. Campbell or have known of him. But to many children growing up in Annapolis in the 1980s and 1990s, he is best remembered for his round belly, jolly laugh and booming voice as Annapolis' Santa Claus.

After working with people for so many years, you would think playing Santa would be a breeze. But Mr. Campbell soon learned that kids could be a tough crowd.

"I was giving out presents at the Salvation Army," he recalls. "And this little boy, around three or four years old, kept staring at my feet. Finally, he pulled at my pants leg and said, 'You ain't Santy Claus.' I said, 'Why do you say that?' He said, 'Santy Claus don't have brown shoes.' That was the last time I wore brown shoes playing Santa Claus. If I live to be a thousand, I'll never forget it."

Although Mr. Campbell became the city's official Santa Claus in the 1980s, his job as St. Nick's stand-in began long before that as part of his work with the Salvation Army. The old Salvation Army headquarters was located on Prince George's Street, a few doors away from where Mr. Campbell grew up.

In those days, the Salvation Army was a well-known presence in Annapolis, helping out many of the poor in the Hell Point section of town (located now inside the Naval Academy on land bordering Spa Creek). Mr. Campbell recalls how, in 1941, the government forced his grandmother, along with many other people, to leave their homes so that the academy could expand. Many people were displaced, and organizations such as the Salvation Army fulfilled an important role.

Living next door to an organization dedicated to helping those in need made a lasting impression on Mr. Campbell. He eventually joined the Board of the Salvation Army and still serves as a lifetime member. And it was this association that led to his career as Annapolis' Santa.

"Around 1960," he explains, "the ladies of the Salvation Army held a Christmas party, and they wanted a Santa Claus." A big man, Mr. Campbell fit the bill perfectly. "I was the patsy," he chuckles. At first he entertained the ladies, but later began handing out Christmas presents to the youngsters, part of an extensive outreach effort by the Salvation Army to provide gifts for disadvantaged children. Eventually, his colleagues in City Hall asked if he would serve as Annapolis' official Santa.

Mr. Campbell began the holiday tradition (still in effect today) of Santa's arrival by fire boat to Susan B. Campbell Park. "We're a maritime city," he explains, "so, of course, our Santa had to come by water." Hundreds of people jammed into the small park that was named by City Council in 1974 in honor of his late daughter Susan, who tragically died of cancer at age 16. The park had originally been referred to as "Campbell's Folly" because of his efforts in the 1950s to create a waterfront park and additional parking downtown that most people saw as a waste of land and money.

"Nobody thought we needed it then," he says. "But I was thinking of the future." Although he envisioned the city needing the space, he couldn't have imagined that decades later, he'd be greeted as Santa on the shores of the very same waterfront plaza he argued in favor of creating.

"It was a madhouse," says Jane Campbell, his wife of 62 years. As she waited for her husband's arrival, she fielded questions from excited children. "The kids would ask things like, 'Why is Santa in a boat?' I'd say, 'Oh, his sleigh broke down and he had to put it in the shop.'"

Once Santa arrived by boat at City Dock, candy canes were handed out to the thrilled children. Then he jumped in a waiting fire truck and was ferried up Main Street to the Church Circle and down Rowe Boulevard to Graul's in West Annapolis.

"We wanted to make sure Santa visited every part of town," Mr. Campbell says. After West Annapolis, the truck headed up Taylor and Spa roads to Forest Drive, stopping at Robinwood, the Bay Forest Shopping Center and Bay Ridge Gardens before the final stop at Eastport Shopping Center. There were crowds at every stop and sometimes even a few mishaps along the way.

"I was walking around Graul's," he says, "handing out candy canes when a voice behind me said, 'Bob, you're pants are busted.'" Fortunately, the tattered Santa made it back to the fire truck before any children seemed to notice. "We pinned the pants up and kept going."

Another time, he was handing out candy canes in Robinwood. "A big kid, around 15 years old or so, came up to me and said, 'That's not your real belly.' I weighed around 286 pounds then," Mr. Campbell says. "I guess it looked I had a pillow in there." The boy punched him in the stomach. "After that, Santa had a police escort."

Although he's retired as Santa, Robert Campbell still makes Christmas wishes come true through his lifelong support of the Salvation Army. Some say that Santa Claus lives at the North Pole. But could it be that he's fooled everyone? When you think about all that Robert Campbell has given this city - the dedication, enthusiasm and commitment to making our town a better place to live - you have to wonder if maybe Santa Claus really does live in Annapolis.

Janice Gary is an award-winning writer of creative nonfiction. She teaches memoir at Annapolis Senior Center. These stories are personal recollections and, as such, are subject to time, memory and point of view.

Do you have an Annapolis story? Contact jangary22@hotmail.com.