Meet Pancho, Tex-Mex Santa of the South Pole

He usually has black hair and a black beard, sometimes just a mustache. Like Santa, he wears a hat — though often it's a sombrero. He dons a serape or a poncho and, in one case, a red and black zoot suit. And he makes his grand entrance on lowriders or Harleys or led by a pack of burros instead of eight reindeer. Meet Pancho Claus, the Tex-Mex Santa.

Amid all the talk about Santa Claus' race, spawned by a Fox News commentator's remarks that both Santa and Jesus were white, there is, in the Lone Star State, a Hispanic version of Santa in cities from the border to the plains — handing out gifts for low-income and at-risk children.

Born from the Chicano civil rights movement, Pancho Claus is a mostly Texas thing, historians say, though there may be one somewhere in California. Lorenzo Cano, a Mexican-American studies scholar at the University of Houston, says Pancho was apparently conceived north of the border as Mexican-Americans looked to "build a place and a space for themselves" in the 1970s. His rise coincided with a growing interest in Mexican art, Cinco de Mayo, Mexican Independence Day and other cultural events.

Now, Pancho is an adored Christmas fixture in many Texas cities.

Each city's Pancho has a unique local flavor, but all share roots that set Pancho apart from Santa. Here's a look at just a few. Oh, and Feliz Navidad.

In the West Texas plains, Pancho Claus is Pancho Clos, so as not to be confused with that other Mr. C.

"Pancho Claus comes from the South Pole, and Santa Claus comes from the North Pole, and every year they get together here in Lubbock," says Robert Narvaiz, vice commander for Lubbock's American GI Forum and coordinator of that city's Pancho project.

Today, Pancho visits schools, churches and supermarkets, but the biggest event — now supported by three different car clubs and dozens of bikers — remains the party at Rogers Park. There, on the Sunday before Christmas, Pancho hands out gifts.

"We're just trying to reach those kids that might get left out somewhere along the line," Narvaiz says.

Julian Perez, a 71-year-old retired heating and air conditioning repairman, has been Lubbock's Pancho for 30 years and remembers when three men, all of whom have since died, first came up with the idea. "I wanted to quit, but I just can't. It just makes me want to do something for the kids," says Perez, who wears a long salt-and-pepper beard, oversized sombrero and colorful poncho when he assumes the role of Pancho.

Pancho Claus! Pancho Claus!" thousands of children chant excitedly, stomping their feet. Just as the shouting reaches fever pitch, Pancho arrives — this one dressed in his signature red and black zoot suit, fedora perched on his head, waving from the back of a lowrider as he throws stuffed animals into the crowd.

This is Houston's Pancho, a k a Richard Reyes.

He adopted the zoot suit and fedora and started producing a short show that was a takeoff on " 'Twas the Night Before Christmas." His nonprofit endeavor now has a $40,000 budget with three corporate sponsors. "It's grown amazingly," says Reyes. This year, due to what Reyes called a technical glitch, one sponsor dropped out, forcing Reyes to cut back on the number of shows. Still, he says: "Not one family that calls us and finds us this year is going to be told no."

About 200 miles away is another Pancho. This one wears a sombrero and serape. He hangs out at San Antonio's River Walk and poses in front of the Alamo. And, his gifts are carried in a cart pulled by trusty "burritos" — as in, well, burros. A head donkey named Chuy leads the way for this Claus.

San Antonio's Pancho, portrayed by Rudy Martinez, visits schools and churches to hand out gifts and turkeys with all the trimmings to 50 low-income families. And Pancho has grown so popular he even has a public information officer. "The end result," says spokesman Patrick Resendez, "is putting that smile on their face."