 From Hollywood, the Screen Directors Playhouse. Screen Directors Playhouse star Edmund Gwen, production Miracle on 34th Street, director George Seaton. Hollywood Screen Directors present a Christmas party. For the 500 special girls and boys gathered here in NBC's Hollywood Studios, and for children of all ages everywhere, we present the motion picture Christmas story, Miracle on 34th Street. Starring Edmund Gwen and his original Academy Award winning role of Chris Gringle. You don't believe in Santa Claus? Well, why not? Santa Claus believes in you. The jaunty, portly little man with the white whiskers swung his cane as he walked in the brisk November morning. He walked into a department store famous across the nation, Macy's 34th Street, New York. Crowded amably into the elevator and got out at the employment office. It seems a Mrs. Doris Walker was the lady to see up there, Mrs. Walker. Mrs. Walker? Uh, yes. You'll be needing a Santa Claus for your toy department this Christmas. I wish to apply for the position. Well, we do need a Santa Claus if you're qualified. Oh, I'm eminently qualified. Do you like children? Who doesn't? Do you have any children? Millions of them. I must certainly say you look like Santa Claus. Well, I certainly should look like Santa Claus. You won't even need padding. Oh, no, I carry my own. Now, you understand that Macy's has a line of toys that you may recommend with complete confidence. I assume that I'm hired? Yes. Can you start tomorrow morning, Mr. Uh, Mr. Kringle. What? Kringle. I'm Chris Kringle. The newest Santa Claus was positively the most sensational Santa Claus who had ever held court on Macy's seventh floor. He was the real article, all right. He had that deep down, genuine, crisp, Chris Kringle-Kringle in his eyes. And if he told you anything, you could depend on it. Electric trains? Why, yes, Peter. Yes, madam, right over that way. Realistic models of the chief and super chief. Now, what about you, little girl? Oh, yes, madam. We have wonderful skates here, but not quite what your little boy seems to want. Now, I'd suggest you go across the street to Gimbal's. Gimbal's? Oh, yes, I keep track of the toy market pretty closely. What is that surprise you sell? Macy's sending me to another store. Well, the only important thing is to make the children happy, isn't it? And whether Macy's or somebody else sells the toy doesn't make any difference. Well, it's wonderful. I don't get it. I don't get it at all. Well, you can get it at the Acme Toy Company. Only $8.50 plus tax. And so it went. And so the customers went to other stores if Macy's didn't have it. The grown-ups began to believe in Santa Claus as much as the children. All except one small child named Susan Walker, who finally came to Chris Crinkle, a skeptical look on her small face and a prodding young man at her back. Well, young lady, and what would you like for Christmas? Uh... Go ahead, Susan, tell Santa what you'd like. What's your name, little girl? Susan Walker, and I don't believe in Santa Claus. My mother happens to be Mrs. Walker, the lady who hired you. Well, your daddy here believes I'm Santa Claus, I'll bet. He's not my daddy. My father and mother are divorced. This is Mr. Galey who lives in the apartment next to ours. I see. He's a lawyer at law. Uh, attorney at law, Susan. He pretends he brought me to see you, but he really came to visit mother. Oh. Really? Oh, brother. I must say you're the best-looking Santa Claus mother ever hired. Oh, thank you. Your whiskers aren't loose at the sides. Well, that's because they're real, just like I'm really a Santa Claus. Oh, how stop. Now go ahead, come on, pull them. Pull them? Go ahead. Uh, all right. Oh, ouch. Well, there, I'm pretty tight, all right. Now, now what would you like me to bring you for Christmas? Susan. There's mother now. I'm dead. Susan, Mr. Galey, I told you not to bring Susan down here. But your maid is out sick, and Susan was alone at home. Mr. Galey, I am bringing Susan up to face reality. Well, in reality, he came to see you, Mrs. Galey. Really? Uh, Mr. Galey, uh, will you step this way, please? Yes, ma'am. What's your name? Chris Kringle. That's your trade name. We can talk here, Fred. Now, Doris. I keep telling Susan that Santa Claus is a myth, and you bring her down here to see thousands of children like herself worshiping a very convincing old man with real whiskers. What's she to think? What's she to believe? Whatever makes her happy. Well, I don't want my child growing up to consider life a fairy tale instead of reality. They keep waiting for a prince charming to come along, and when he does, he turns out to be someone they... Someone they'll have to divorce? We were talking about Susan. Oh. In fact, I'm going to have to talk to that Santa Claus about Susan before he goes to lunch. Yes, Mrs. Walker? Uh, the reason I called you into my office was to have you tell Susan here that you're not Santa Claus. Yeah, but I am Santa Claus. See, Mother? A girl doesn't know what to think these days. I want you to tell her the truth. Now, what's your name? Chris Kringle. See. I mean your real name. Well, that is my real name. Now, see here. I... Excuse me a moment. Yes, Mrs. Walker. Mrs. Thomas, will you get our unemployment card filled out by a Mr. Chris Kringle if there is one? I'll wait. I'll bet you're in the first grade, Susan. Second. Second? I'm very advanced. Oh-ho. Here it is, Mrs. Walker. No. Mayor? Yes, the same thing I think. I think he's nuts. That's what I think. He was. With bells on. You better get rid of him. He might be dangerous. Thank you, Mrs. Thomas. I agree. Uh, Mr. Kringle, I'm sorry, but we're going to have to make a change. Have I done something wrong? Well, no. That is not wrong. But... Oh, excuse me. Yes? Mr. Macy's on the phone. Oh, put him on. Mrs. Walker. Yes, Mr. Macy? I've just heard about your new Santa Claus. Oh, yes, Mr. Macy. I was just going into that, Mr. Macy. The idea. The very idea. He's telling people that if Macy's doesn't have it, to go to Gimbals. Well, I have him right... Gimbals. Directly across the street. Imagine. Macy's Santa Claus sending customers to Gimbals. Friendly store. The store that places public service ahead of profits. And consequently, we'll make more profit than ever. Yes, sir. Great idea, Mrs. Walker. Great work. Keep it up. Yes, Mr. Macy. And above all, keep him. Keep him? But he's... Well, he's... He's great. But Mr. Macy, I don't... Goodbye, Mrs. Walker. Mr. Macy. Mr. M... Mr. Kringle. Yes? Mr. Macy suggests that we try you out a little longer. Well, that's mighty good news, Mrs. Walker. You see, this is quite an opportunity for me. Years for the last 50 years or so, I've been getting more and more worried about Christmas. Seems we're all so busy trying to beat the other fellow in making things go faster and look shinier and cost less. But Christmas and I are sort of getting lost in the shuffle. Christmas is still Christmas. Oh, but it isn't just today. It's a frame of mind. And that's what's been changing. That's why I'm glad I'm here. Maybe I can do something about it. Oh, I'm glad I met you and your daughter. Thank you. You two are a kind of test case for me. What's a test case? Well, if I can make you and your mother believe in me... Speaking of tests, Mr. Kringle, would you kindly report to Mr. Sawyer's office the first thing tomorrow morning? Mr. Sawyer? Yes, he'll give you an examination. A mental examination? Oh, it's just routine. All of our employees are required to take an examination. Oh, I don't mind that. I've taken dozens of examinations. Never failed one yet. I'll see Mr. Sawyer first thing in the morning. Thank you. Goodbye, Mrs. Walker. Bye, Susan. Goodbye, Mr. Kringle. Oh, excuse me, Chris. I was just leaving. Bye. Bye-bye. Hello, Doris. How are you, Susan? I'm fine. Mother's got problems. Fred, I'm worried about Mr. Kringle. Worried? Why? Well, I think he's mentally unsound. I think he's a fantastic, delightful and unselfish human being. And if being delightful, unselfish and human is bad, what's good? Well, Mr. Macy likes him, so I have to keep him. But not if he's insane. Oh, nonsense. Well, he thinks he's Santa Claus. Well, maybe he is. Well, suppose he gets worse. Suppose he gets violent. Chris? Nevertheless, I'm having Mr. Sawyer question him tomorrow. Only, how can I be sure that Kringle will even show up tomorrow? It's easy. I'll take him home with me tonight and bring him to work in the morning. Oh, would you? All you have to do is to marry me. Fred. Oh, when I can afford it. Do it, mother. Susan. Well, then at least have me into dinner tonight. Oh, with Mr. Chris Kringle, my house guest of honor. That evening, Chris Kringle went home with Fred Galey. And after dinner in Doris Walker's apartment next door, Chris left Fred and Doris to discuss child psychology, or something, and stole quietly into Susan's bedroom. Susan, sophisticated child, was in bed. Glowing bubblegum bubbles. Susan, why don't you give me a chance to prove to you that I'm really a Santa Claus? There is no Santa Claus. Oh. Now, there must be something you want for Christmas. Mother will get me whatever anything I want. Oh, but there must be something she can't get you. Oh. There is something. What, you mean a doll's house? No, a real house. To live in. A real house? If you're really Santa Claus, you can get it for me. If you can't, you're only a nice man with a white beard, like Mother says. Oh, but you've got this lovely apartment to live in. I want a backyard to play in, and grass, and a white picket fence and rose bushes. But Mother can't afford it, and I guess you can't get it, huh? No, I didn't say that. You know, I, uh... Well, I've got to see Mr. Sawyer first thing in the morning. I'll get right to work on it after that season, tomorrow. Oh, tell me, Kringle, how many days in the week? Seven. Who was the first president of the United States? George Washington. How much is, uh, three times five? Well, you asked me that before. I'm conducting this examination. How much is three times five? Well, same as it was before, 15. You're... you're rather nervous, Mr. Sawyer. Aren't you? Do you get enough sleep? Never mind. How many fingers am I holding up? Three. Oh. Oh, you bite your nails, too. Kringle, how do you... You know, sometimes nervous habits like yours are a result of insecurity. I didn't ask you. Oh, I just want to be helpful. I didn't ask for help, you fuzzy old crackpot. Mr. Sawyer, that's hardly the proper way to conduct a mental examination. Oh, you... I'm wasting my time on a hopeless case. Get out, Mr. Sawyer. I said get out, Mr. Sawyer. I have great respect for psychiatry and great contempt for imposters and quacks. I beg your pardon. I should like to see your degree in medicine. Get out. Also proof of your specialization in psychiatry. Get out. Get out! Now, either you stop. Either you stop analyzing people, or I'm going to tell Mr. Macy what a contemptible, vicious, malicious fraud you really are. I... I... I'll have you committed to an insane asylum. Well, you're the one who needs treatment. Oh, lunatic, are you saying I'm crazy? Put down that inquire. Put down that game. Put down that inquire. You go first. I'd better. You're dangerous. Now, when he recovered, Mr. Sawyer jingled Bellevue. And that is how Santa Claus, alias Chris Kringle, found himself that very morning in the violent ward at Bellevue Hospital. You are listening to the stream director's playhouse presentation of Miracle on 34th Street, starring Edmund Gwynn in his original Academy Award-winning role of Chris Kringle. Late that afternoon, Fred Galey, attorney at law, came to visit Chris Kringle in the violent ward at Bellevue Hospital. All right now, Chris, why did you do it? Why did I conk, Mr. Sawyer? Why did you fail your examination by the doctors here at Bellevue? You did it deliberately. I did. I said the first president of the United States was Calvin Coolidge. But why? Well, Fred, the last few days, I had a feeling people were warming up towards each other. Macy's sending customers to Gimbal's. Gimbal's sending customers to Macy's. Gimbal and Macy shaking hands. Vizinski saying yes. People were beginning to make some sense, even if Doris did doubt me. Doris hasn't believed in anything for years. Ever since her marriage went to pieces. Well, it wasn't just Doris. It was Sawyer. Now, he's contemptible, dishonest, selfish, vicious. But he's out there and I'm in here. He's called normal. I'm not. And we've got a world full of Mr. Sawyer's. And if that's normal, I don't want it, Fred. That's why I answered those questions incorrectly. But, Chris, what happens to a lot of people, like me, who do believe in you and what you stand for? What happens to people like little Susan, just beginning to believe? Susan? Are you going to let her down? People like that? Well, I hadn't thought of that, Fred. Are you going to quit right in the middle of your job? Gee, you're right, Fred. I'm ashamed of myself. Let's get out of here. Uh, not so fast, Chris. Getting in here was easy. Getting you out will be a lot harder. Oh, not for you. You're a fine lawyer. Perhaps, but... But what? You've been ordered committed to a mental institution. Oh, I see. However, I've requested a formal hearing. And it's been granted. But the issue being, do I jingle the bells or do the bets from the belfry? I should like to call the first witness, Mr. Chris Kringle. Will you please take the stand? I'm delighted to do so, Mr. Prosecutor. Mr. Kringle? Your Honor? This is merely a hearing. You do not have to answer the questions or even testify at all. We have no objections, Your Honor. Well, I'll be glad to answer any questions I can. You may question the witness, Mr. Prosecutor. Thank you, Your Honor. Tell us, sir, what is your true name? Chris Kringle. And where do you live? Well, that's what this hearing will decide. Mr. Kringle, do you believe that you are Santa Claus? Of course. Perhaps the witness doesn't understand the question. I understood the question perfectly, Your Honor. In which case, Your Honor, the state rests. In view of the defendant's statement, does counsel for the defendant wish to put in a defense? The entire case against my client boils down to this. The prosecution contends that Mr. Kringle is not sane because he believes himself to be Santa Claus. That is true. But if Mr. Kringle were the person he believes himself to be, he would be as sane as we are. Correct. I intend to prove that Mr. Kringle is not insane because he is Santa Claus. Fred, let's be sensible. You can't possibly prove that poor old man is Santa Claus. Why can't I? And he's not a poor old man. Logic, Fred, not faith and hope wins out in court. That's just common sense. And I guess in these last few years, you've developed too much common sense. Well, one of us has to have it, Fred. And both of us have to have faith, Doris. Or we're wrong for each other. I see. Even when I can afford it, we're wrong for each other. Well, I'm going to pray for Santa Claus. Mr. Kringle, dear. Santa Claus! I mailed your letter to Santa, Susan. Thank you very much. Special delivery. He'll get it tomorrow. Mr. Macy, I will turn the questioning over to a person you know. A person in whom I have the deepest confidence and belief. My client and your employee, Mr. Chris Kringle. But I don't know what to say. Say it anyhow, Chris. Come on. Well, they say that the man who pleads his own case has a fool for a client. But I won't let down anybody who believes in me. You're a witness, Chris. I don't know what to ask you, Mr. Macy. Just ask me anything. Well, how are things at the store? Pretty good, Chris. Sorry I can't be with you. So are we. Your substitute Santa doing all right? Oh, he's just another Santa Claus. Oh, no, no, Mr. Macy, you mustn't say that. He isn't just another Santa Claus anymore than this Christmas is just another Christmas. It's the same Christmas. Timeless and unchanging with the same deeper meaning it always has. The same summons to all men to have faith. Not in any one faith, but to have faith in themselves, in mankind, in each other. Because if all the earth be laden in ruins and all our yesterdays and all man's wonders become smoke and ashes, and man remains, well, then everything remains. For all we have on earth that matters is each other. And that's what Christmas is. A time for unselfishness, a time for each other, for good will and understanding and deep respect for all our fellow men. Your honor. Oh, very well. Christmas isn't just once a year. Christmas is always flowering, let's say, in late December. And your new Santa Claus isn't just another Santa Claus, Mr. Macy. To the purest minds and the most immaculate souls among us, I mean the little children, he is Santa Claus. Because they believe he is. And that's... that's good enough for me, Mr. Macy. That's good enough for me. It's good enough for me too, Chris. Mr. Macy, do you believe I'm Santa Claus? I certainly do. Thank you, Mr. Macy. Your witness, Mr. Prosecutor. Your honor, this is all very charming, but I must ask the court to demand that Mr. Gailey present competent authority, competent authority, I say, for the contention that his client is Santa Claus. Have you such authority, Mr. Gailey? Not at this time, your honor. Will that be all, Fred? Yes, Chris, for now. Before you go, Mr. Kringle, the bailiff handed me this letter in care of this courthouse. It would appear to be for you. It's addressed to Santa Claus. The bailiff also informs me that the dead letter office of the Post Office Department has forwarded some other mail addressed simply Santa Claus. That's very kind of them. Your honor, where are those other letters? I request that they be entered in evidence. I'm afraid that would be awkward, Mr. Gailey. What do you mean awkward, your honor? There are nine truckloads of those letters. Your honor. Your honor, counsel for the state has asked for authoritative testimony that my client is Santa Claus. The U.S. postal laws make it a criminal offense to misdirect mail or intentionally to deliver it to the wrong party. The postal department itself therefore recognizes this man, Chris Kringle, as Santa Claus. Order! Objection! Order! Order, I say! I say order! In view of such overwhelming testimony, case dismissed. It was very cold when Fred and Chris Kringle got out in the courthouse steps. It looked and felt like a white Christmas. Like a good Christmas. Same as always. What was in that letter anyhow, Chris? Letter? Cleen forgot to open it. I'd better, though. It's from Susan. I suspected it was. Dear Chris, signed P.S. You know, Chris, it was Susan's belief and faith that made her write you that letter. It was her letter that gave the post office the idea of forwarding all those dead letters to you. Little child shall lead them. She's a sweet little girl. I wish, you know, Fred, there's a little Cape Cod cottage for sale out near the old people's home. We're just right for three people. I can't afford anything right now. Well, looking at that house a few days ago, I said to myself, Chris, one good case to bring him fame, and Fred Galey could buy that little cottage and make a little girl extremely happy. Chris. And then Susan would know I'm Santa Claus. Chris Kringle. Did you hit Mr. Sawyer on the head to bring all this into court? I don't know what you're talking about. Chris. Chris, answer me straight. Who are you? Me? I'm Chris Kringle. Chris Kringle will return in just a moment. Next week, another great star brings one of his most brilliant performances to the Screen Directors Playhouse. Our story is one-way passage to William Powell with Screen Director Tay Garnett. Now returning to our Screen Directors Christmas Party, here is tonight's star, Edmund Gwynne. Thank you. Thank you very much. I think the 500 children in our Christmas Party audience tonight are much more expert at this business of make-believe than we grown-ups. So many of us lose the magnificent gift of imagination. But when it does continue beyond childhood, we call it talent. Now, I would like you to meet the man to whom I owe so much, writer-director of Miracle on 34th Street and of such other films as Apartment for Peggy and the soon-to-be-released Two Corridors East. My author-director, George Seaton. Thanks, Edmund. You know, watching these youngsters enjoy your performance tonight. I realize more than ever how an idea can grow into something real. You mean your idea for the Miracle story, George? No, no, no. That wasn't mine. The original story in the novel was written by Valentine Davies. But I had the pleasure of following it through as a screenplay, a motion picture, and tonight as a radio play. And if the story managed to bring a little more Christmas into the lives of these wonderful kids, then Miracle on 34th Street has worked a small miracle of its own. Well, then tonight, George, as the creator of the picture, you are really playing the part of Chris Kringle. Oh, no, no, no. I'm still the director. It's time you went to work. There are a lot of presents here on the stage and a lot of deserving youngsters to receive them. Mr. Director, I never had a happier assignment. A very, very Christmas. And a merry Christmas to you. Thank you, George. Thank you. And a merry Christmas to you, Edmund, when of George Seaton. Our thanks to our HBAC department store for their gift of 500 Christmas stockings for our little guests. The publishing firm of Simon & Schuster for its gift of 500 children's books and at the country store of Beverly Hills Candies Remember next week, One-Way Passage with William Powell and Tay Garnett on Screen Directors Playhouse. Miracle on 34th Street was presented to the courtesy of 20th Century Fox currently releasing the Darrell-Afsanic production 12 O'Clock High, starring Gregory Peck and Prince of Fox's starring Tarone Power. Edmund Gwynne appeared by arrangement with Metro Golden Mayor, producers of the Technicolor musical on the town, starring Jean Kelly, Frank Sinatra and Betty Garret. This is Jimmy Wallington speaking and inviting you to listen again next week when we present. Our William Powell production One-Way Passage director Tay Garnett. It's Bill Stern and the Sports Newsreel on NBC.