View full sizeQuentin Robinson, 7, of Cleveland gets a big hug Saturday from Mrs. Claus, portrayed by Karen Dropco, as he is escorted off a Continental Airlines jet by his mother, Chantel Cabbell, on Continental's flight 9990 to the North Pole. It was the 19th annual charity event for children who have been patients at Rainbow Babies and Children's Hospital and MetroHealth Medical Center and their families. CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Just in case the special guests missed the blow-up Santa or penguins marking the ticketing counter Saturday, a flashing sign alerted them that they had indeed reached "Elf Check-in."
About 50 children and their families lined up under the sign at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport for the rarest of adventures -- Flight 9900 to the North Pole.
Many of the children -- most patients at Rainbow Babies and Children's Hospital or MetroHealth Medical Center -- had never been in an airplane, let alone to such an exotic destination.
What would the North Pole be like?
"A cartoon," yelled 3-year-old Connor.
"It's going to be freezing," hollered 4-year-old Hannah.
Soon after elves with red-and-white striped tights and green, curly-toed shoes helped the children board a Continental jet, the flight crew lowered the shades so the cabin lights wouldn't hurt the eyes of reindeer.
Then, with a roar of the engines (they never left the ground), they were off to see Santa.
Volunteers at the North Pole were notified by radio the moment Flight 9900 left the gate so they could make all the last-minute preparations for their arrivals.
A North Olmsted woodwind ensemble warmed up on Christmas carols while about a dozen members of Westlake's Key Club practiced painting snowmen and hearts on one another's faces.
Both groups had arrived early to help Betty Prischak -- a Continental ticket agent -- who has served as Santa's chief Cleveland organizer for three years.
It all started for her about eight years ago, Prischak said, after she saw the reaction of an 8-year-old girl arriving on the 9900 flight.
The girl, like most children who take this trip to the North Pole, was very sick. Her illness left her bald and a large jagged scar marked the place where a surgeon must have operated on her brain, Prischak said. But at the North Pole, none of that mattered.
"The trip happened to be on her eighth birthday," Prischak said. "And she said it was her best birthday ever."
Prischak has helped Santa ever since.
On Saturday, 10-foot-tall gingerbread men ringed the windows of the arrival gate at the North Pole. A cottony blanket of snow covered the floor, littered with sparkly gum drops the size of cantaloupe and pieces of candy bigger than loaves of bread.
There were Christmas trees covered in homemade decorations, gift bags piled around a fireplace and a white throne with red velvet cushions waiting for St. Nick. When Flight 9900 was about to arrive, Prischak gave the signal.
"I want my elves down here, please," she called out, moving a group of jingling helpers to the arrival gate to help the children. At the door, Mr. Moose, a 6-foot furry beast with a black top hat and a red-and-white striped tie, adjusted his antlers.
And Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, even taller than the moose, made sure his nose was aglow.
Then, the first child stepped off the flight -- a toddler in a red velvet dress.
When the girl saw the sparkling North Pole, her tiny jaw dropped.
She gazed at the gingerbread men to her right and then at the candy canes, bigger than her, on her left.
Finally, she looked up and saw Rudolph's blinking nose.
It was magic.
For a moment, nothing else mattered.