CEDARVILLE - Rod Quies lives to see children smile as he bounds down the path outside his home to a red sleigh, decked in red and white, sporting a brilliant white beard and a thundering "ho, ho, ho!"
"I love children," Quies said. "They're our future. And they love it. I love it. It's family-oriented."
For nearly 20 years, Quies, 77, has hosted families at his home in rural Cedarville. A gravely Richland Road ascends toward a large yard to the south. It hosts towering pines decorated with colorful lights. Area residents find easy access to the land of magic where Santa Claus lives. A sign reads a playful pun of "Quiesmas" above hours marked for when children, and adults, can visit Santa.
People from Cedarville, Monroe, Orangeville, Freeport, Janesville and surrounding cities, as well as across the country, and even from throughout the world, have taken the time to stop in to see Kris Kringle. Quies, a Rockford native, and wife Pat have kept books of sticker labels with children's names written on them and visitors' registries with lists of names and locations. He's seen thousands of children, even noting 1,200 visitors in a single year. Lines begin to form an hour before Santa's hours begin, with some visitors waiting two hours.
An extensively decorated yard includes a pathway lit by reds, greens, blues and warm whites. Snowmen, drummer boys and penguins are among the lighted figurines greeting visitors who meander among the decorations, taking in the spectacle while waiting to see Santa.
A small chapel sits at the crest of the property's hill, guiding visitors in to see a photo of Rod Quies Jr., remembering a life too short from 1960 to 1976. Along the path, guided by snowmen mirthfully poised to descend a slide into a pool of snow, a small log cabin door opens to reveal a blazing fire and assistant happy to greet visitors who pen their names onto a list. A small gingerbread house holds toys and lists of past visitors.
Quies noticed in recent years that visitors who came as children return with their own, pointing out their names to another generation while flipping through visitor logs.
Farther along the route, a large cabin with a roaring fire has evergreen strung along a banister and likenesses of Santa Claus along the wall. In each structure, there are photos of Quies in his red coat and black boots, some smiling with children in his lap or posing with his wife of 57 years.
Quies said he began hosting families at his home 19 years ago after visiting different homes and healthcare facilities became too strenuous. Instead, he spends each year placing lighted figures throughout the yard, hoisting Christmas lights to the tops of 20-foot trees and adorning the home with icicle lights. PVC pipe creates corridors of lighted paths, all of which Quies put in place himself. This year, wind has caused more problems than usual.
When he began the project nearly two decades ago, Pat wasn't quite sure about the plans.
"He was crazy," Pat said with a laugh, explaining what she thought when Quies started Christmas in the Country.
The event has received help from a number of people, Quies noted. Daughter Paula Moring plays elf, helping children and families en route to Santa each year since her father began the event.
"They will come ask me if I have pointy ears, and they'll ask me what the elves are doing, what they do in the summer and stuff like that," Moring said.
Grandson Steven Pirrello and his girlfriend Stephanie help out, Moring's husband Jeff takes time to aid in the process and Quies and Pat noted neighbors, now elderly, still do their part to make the magic happen after 10 years, among others integral to the display each year.
Quies said his role as Santa will continue as long as his he remains in good health. Throughout the years, he noted that many children are lost for words at seeing the big guy up close, forgetting their original requests for gifts to arrive under the tree Christmas morning.
Talking isn't always centered around present requests or the behavior of the kids, either. Quies said sometimes the favor children ask leaves him lost for words.
"When I wore the fake beard, it held a lot of tears out there," Quies said. "The other night, a little boy-you would have never dreamt this boy would ask such a thing - 'what do you want for Christmas?' 'I can't tell ya, I'll whisper it to you. I want my mom and dad to get back together.'"
Still, he would not trade his role as a jolly figure for the world, he said. He also refuses any offer of donations, hosting the annual event for free. The gift of happiness has been enough for him the last 19 years.
"I could not take a dime, go to the store and know this is from putting a smile on a child's face," Quies said. "What could you buy that would make you happy? I wouldn't do it. I couldn't do it."
"I love children," Quies said. "They're our future. And they love it. I love it. It's family-oriented."
For nearly 20 years, Quies, 77, has hosted families at his home in rural Cedarville. A gravely Richland Road ascends toward a large yard to the south. It hosts towering pines decorated with colorful lights. Area residents find easy access to the land of magic where Santa Claus lives. A sign reads a playful pun of "Quiesmas" above hours marked for when children, and adults, can visit Santa.
People from Cedarville, Monroe, Orangeville, Freeport, Janesville and surrounding cities, as well as across the country, and even from throughout the world, have taken the time to stop in to see Kris Kringle. Quies, a Rockford native, and wife Pat have kept books of sticker labels with children's names written on them and visitors' registries with lists of names and locations. He's seen thousands of children, even noting 1,200 visitors in a single year. Lines begin to form an hour before Santa's hours begin, with some visitors waiting two hours.
An extensively decorated yard includes a pathway lit by reds, greens, blues and warm whites. Snowmen, drummer boys and penguins are among the lighted figurines greeting visitors who meander among the decorations, taking in the spectacle while waiting to see Santa.
A small chapel sits at the crest of the property's hill, guiding visitors in to see a photo of Rod Quies Jr., remembering a life too short from 1960 to 1976. Along the path, guided by snowmen mirthfully poised to descend a slide into a pool of snow, a small log cabin door opens to reveal a blazing fire and assistant happy to greet visitors who pen their names onto a list. A small gingerbread house holds toys and lists of past visitors.
Quies noticed in recent years that visitors who came as children return with their own, pointing out their names to another generation while flipping through visitor logs.
Farther along the route, a large cabin with a roaring fire has evergreen strung along a banister and likenesses of Santa Claus along the wall. In each structure, there are photos of Quies in his red coat and black boots, some smiling with children in his lap or posing with his wife of 57 years.
Quies said he began hosting families at his home 19 years ago after visiting different homes and healthcare facilities became too strenuous. Instead, he spends each year placing lighted figures throughout the yard, hoisting Christmas lights to the tops of 20-foot trees and adorning the home with icicle lights. PVC pipe creates corridors of lighted paths, all of which Quies put in place himself. This year, wind has caused more problems than usual.
When he began the project nearly two decades ago, Pat wasn't quite sure about the plans.
"He was crazy," Pat said with a laugh, explaining what she thought when Quies started Christmas in the Country.
The event has received help from a number of people, Quies noted. Daughter Paula Moring plays elf, helping children and families en route to Santa each year since her father began the event.
"They will come ask me if I have pointy ears, and they'll ask me what the elves are doing, what they do in the summer and stuff like that," Moring said.
Grandson Steven Pirrello and his girlfriend Stephanie help out, Moring's husband Jeff takes time to aid in the process and Quies and Pat noted neighbors, now elderly, still do their part to make the magic happen after 10 years, among others integral to the display each year.
Quies said his role as Santa will continue as long as his he remains in good health. Throughout the years, he noted that many children are lost for words at seeing the big guy up close, forgetting their original requests for gifts to arrive under the tree Christmas morning.
Talking isn't always centered around present requests or the behavior of the kids, either. Quies said sometimes the favor children ask leaves him lost for words.
"When I wore the fake beard, it held a lot of tears out there," Quies said. "The other night, a little boy-you would have never dreamt this boy would ask such a thing - 'what do you want for Christmas?' 'I can't tell ya, I'll whisper it to you. I want my mom and dad to get back together.'"
Still, he would not trade his role as a jolly figure for the world, he said. He also refuses any offer of donations, hosting the annual event for free. The gift of happiness has been enough for him the last 19 years.
"I could not take a dime, go to the store and know this is from putting a smile on a child's face," Quies said. "What could you buy that would make you happy? I wouldn't do it. I couldn't do it."