I received this and thought others might enjoy it.
> Subject: HAPPY HOLIDAYS > > > Twas the Night as the Night - by Phyllis Moses > > Twas the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp, > Not an airplane was stirring, not even a Champ. > The aircraft were fastened to tiedowns with care, > In hopes that come morning, they all would be there. > > The fuel trucks were nestled, all snug in their spots, > While peak gusts from two-zero reached 39 knots. > And I at the fuel desk, now finally caught up, > Had just settled comfortably down on my butt. > When over the radio, there arose such a clatter, > I turned up the scanner to see what was the matter. > > A voice clearly heard over static and snow, > Asked for clearance to land at the airport below. > He barked out his transmission so lively and quick, > I could have sworn the call sign he used was "St. Nick." > > Away to the window I flew like a flash, > Sure that it was only Horizon's late Dash. > Then he called his position, and there could be no denial, > "This is St. Nicholas One," and "I'm turning on final." > > When what to my wondering eyes should appear, > A Extra Red Sleigh and eight Pitts reindeer. > > He flew the approach, on glideslopes he came, > As he passed all fixes, he called them by name: > "Now Rengo! Now Tolga! Now Trini and Bacun! > On Comet! On Cupid!" What pills was he takin'? > > Those last couple of fixes left controllers confused, > They called down to the office to give me the news, > The message they left was both urgent and dour: > "When Santa lands, could he please call the tower?" > > He landed like silk, with the sled runners sparkling, > Then I heard "Exit at Charlie," and "Taxi to parking." > So up to the offices the coursers they flew, > With loud airplane noise, and St. Nicholas, too. > > He stepped out of the sleigh, but before he could talk, > I had run out to him with my best set of chocks. > > He was dressed all in fur, which was covered with frost, > And his beard was all blackened from reindeer exhaust. > His breath smelled like peppermint, gone slightly stale, > And he smoked on a pipe, but he didn't inhale. > > He had a broad face and his armpits were smelly, > And his boots were as black as a cropduster's belly. > > He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old fool, > And he kindly informed me that he needed some fuel. > A wink of his eye and a twist of his toes, > Led me to know he was desperate to powder his nose. > > I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work, > And I filled up the sleigh, but I spilled like a jerk. > > He came out of the restroom with a sigh of relief, > And then picked up the phone for a flight service brief. > And I thought, as he silently scribed in his log, > That with Rudolph, he could land in eighth-mile and fog. > > Next, he completed his preflight, from the front to the rear, > Then he put on his headset, and I heard him yell "Clear!" > And laying a finger on his push-talk, > He called up the tower for his clearance and squawk. > "Straight out two-zero," the tower called forth, > "And watch for a Cessna straight in from the North." > > But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he climbed in the night, > "Happy Christmas to all, I have traffic in sight." > > > Warmest wishes to you and those who are dear for a wonderful holiday > season and New Year.
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