Think of the Columbus Old Boys as Toronto's own Super Friends. They might be getting on in years, and not even one of them has x-ray vision, but their capacity to care is superhuman.
The group rose from the ashes of Little Italy's Columbus Boys Club, a community outreach centre that closed in the 1970s. For 11 months a year, these mild-mannered citizens, mostly retirees, go about their way – chomping on cigars and, presumably, expressing their distaste for loud music.
But every December, as the Star Santa Fund campaign heats up, they converge in a secret location and get down to the business of saving Christmas.
"Every nationality, every person who ever went (to the Boys Club) – half of 'em are dead now – we retain the tradition and meet up once a year," says 68-year-old Gene Domagala, the group's leader. "Everybody comes out of the woodworks. There are engineers, garbage men, cops, everything – even ex-priests."
At one point, said Domagala, they distributed as much as a quarter of the Fund's Star boxes – gifts of winter clothing, toys, books and candy – to disadvantaged youth in Toronto. That number is down to about 2,500 of the 45,000 that go out every year.
Domagala delivered his first Star box 50 years ago, his first as a youth worker at the Columbus Boys Club. In the time since, he's seen it all.
"Three or four times I was gonna quit," said Domagala. "But it's the kids who get the things."
Two memories in particular keep him going.
"There was just a towel for a window, and the wind was coming in and there was this skinny little girl with a little baby in her arms. She couldn't have been no more than 15 or 16, and she was half-starved. I thought, you poor, wretched little thing – you're from a Dickens novel. She started crying and I said `Oh, jeez,'" said Domagala.
He got the girl some supplies and put her in touch with social workers.
"And then there's the one I call `the man with the hooks,'" he said.
"I'm banging on another door and a guy says, `Just a minute.' ... The guy opened the door and I nearly started crying. He had two hooks for hands, he was a war vet.
"He was the only guy who offered me tea. Anytime I want to quit, the (man) with the hooks keeps me going."
If you have been touched by the Santa Claus Fund or have a story to tell, please email santaclausfund@thestar.ca.
