This is not, of course, the Santa who resides at the North Pole. This Santa is a retired aircraft-maintenance contractor from Kissimmee, Fla., born Winfred Eugene Holley. A lifelong Christmas aficionado, Holley, 76, legally changed his name to Santa Claus in 1982. Now he wears a red suit year-round, makes regular appearances at children's hospitals and spends a big chunk of his retirement income answering the half million letters sent to him annually at RO. Box 1616, North Pole 90505.
His troubles began in late 1992. It was then, says Barbara Zimonja, 47, president of the Resort Group, that she made an oral agreement with him. In exchange for five weeks of being Santa, he would receive free lodging. Though Claus acknowledges enjoying 34 unbilled days in a cozy, if reindeerless, mountainside condo, he says the company owes him $6,732—based on a $200-per-day rate. "I never asked for a contract—I've never needed one," he says.
Initially the company ignored his written demands for payment. "I couldn't believe it," says Zimonja. "Santa was trying to con me." Then in March 1994, he filed a $5,000 complaint against the Resort Group in small-claims court. The company later countersued Claus for the cost of his room and phone calls. Though Zimonja believes the law is on her side, she fears that a possible December court date might make the judge more Santa-sympathetic. "I'm already looking like the Grinch in this thing," she frets. "And Christmas is my favorite holiday!" Claus, too, is glum. "Santa isn't supposed to sue people," he says, "but what choice did I have? I need stamps. The only sure winner may be Claus's attorney, Stanford Nielson, father of five children ages I through 14. "My kids," he says, "think I'm a hero."
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
