PAHRUMP, NEV. — The Santa Claus of this bleak desert outpost wears a polo shirt with a pack of Camel Lights in the pocket and a pair of suspenders stretched tight over his stomach. Larry Bai is 60, balding and Jewish. He shuffles through the post office doors this blustery morning, gripping a cane topped with a lion's head.
He opens Santa's post office box, No. 133. There are eight more letters. Bai will respond to each writer who includes a return address, and, on behalf of the Pahrump Valley Lions Club, he'll buy hundreds of presents, wrap them in snowman-patterned paper and deliver them across the town. Here in Nye County, whose 10.5% unemployment rate is the state's second-highest, those may be the only presents some children get.
Bai's annual effort is harder this year: The club has raised $2,000 -- half of last year's total. The group reluctantly cut about a fifth of the eligible kids by dropping the maximum age to 10 from 14. Bai's wife, Sue, who's in charge of shopping, is spending $10 on each child instead of $12 to $15. Larry has resolved to dip into his own pocket if need be.
Charities big and small are experiencing the same disjunction this Christmas: What do you do when folks give less but need more? Across Nevada's vast rural stretches, jobs are scarce. Construction work in particular has vanished. There are few social service groups, and most are starved for funds.
The holidays look so grim that this Santa gets letters from cash-strapped parents.
Dear Santa,
I am writing you on behalf of my 2-year-old son. Things have been kind of tuff this year with my husband out of work. My son . . . likes anything that's cars, tractors, trucks and construction equipment [toys] . . . . Thank you so much.
--
Checking it twice
On a recent afternoon, Larry drives his yellow Saturn Vue to a Wal-Mart Supercenter. Salvation Army bells clang. Wheels on shopping carts screech. Parents add a chorus of "Put that back!"
Sue, a 57-year-old bank manager, and her friend, Debbie Martinez, roam the aisles with two shopping carts and spreadsheets listing about 100 letter writers and their requests. Sue sticks closely to the kids' wishes -- though girls hoping for baby sisters get baby dolls instead. The boy who asked for "15 screws and one hammer" will unwrap a football, his other request. More than ever she considers her budget; it settles so many decisions.
