I have many memories of Christmases past.

One of the greatest was when my friend Ron Pickle gave me a 12-foot boat. Ron worked for a rather large boat-building company, and he had his friends on the line produce a few of these 12-footers for dinghies for himself and some friends. The one he gave to me had been used to cover the firewood in his mother’s backyard.

I took it to Butch Fuzzy Bear’s gas station in Newark, where we cleaned it up and got it ready as a Christmas present for my boys, Ric and Roger.

Since the gas station would be closed on Christmas Eve, I had to move the boat to my neighbor Tim McMillin’s house, where my sister Debbie and I went once everyone was in bed at my house. 

The boat did make a loud thump when we dropped it on the floor. After I climbed in bed, my wife Barbara wanted to know what that noise was. I told her Santa dropped his sack because it was so heavy with gifts for her. I can’t repeat what she called me.

To say my boys were excited with their boat would be a major understatement. To say their mother was less so would also be a major understatement.

In those days, all the Twilleys (my wife’s maiden name) came to our house for a gift exchange and lunch, and then all the Hatfields (my mother had remarried Medford Hatfield) plus my grandfather Roger Culver came for a gift exchange and dinner. The boat, still sitting in the middle of the living room, was the star of the show.

Another Christmas I recall was before Barbara and I were married.

Barbara’s father and his two brothers, Grover and Harold, were World War II veterans, and they were very close. They would vacation together, and at Christmas, they would keep presents for each other’s children at their homes so there would be no way for the kids to discover their gifts.

My future father-in-law, whom we called Popsie; my future brother-in-law, Bobby Woods (he married Barbara’s sister Joy); and my good friend Donnie Ciotti and I set out to retrieve bicycles that were stored in Grover’s and Harold’s home.

A simple task, except that Woodsie had brought along a rather large container of Seagram’s 7 with a pump on top. Now Popsie didn’t take a drop because he was driving, but Donnie and I were not so encumbered. Neither were Grover and Harold.

Harold’s home was our last stop. We were all in the finished basement enjoying Woodsie’s refreshment when Harold’s wife Ruth called down in her somewhat commanding voice to inquire what was going on down there. You would not believe just how fast five men can disappear from a basement and get into a station wagon.

By the time we got back to my future wife’s home and unloaded the bikes, it was plain that Donnie was in no condition to drive, so I had him come over to my place that was just around the corner. 

Christmas morning at the Twilley house was unbelievable. Presents stretched from the tree to the front door. At this time, six Twilley kids were still at home and the seventh, Joy, lived close by.

Now, Joy had given Bobby a beautiful shotgun shell reloader. The problem was, it had to be assembled. Now, you have to picture Bobby and me, while still feeling the aftereffects of the previous evening, trying to assemble this shotgun shell reloader. Suffice it to say, the task was not completed until after breakfast and a long nap.

Holiday gift ideas

I know it can be tough to find just the right gift for that fisherman on your holiday gift list. Sometimes you just have to think outside the box as to what to put in the box.

Take for example the very good friend who missed netting the biggest flounder one has ever hooked. The obvious gift is a much bigger net. And a slap upside the head.

Have to buy for a freshwater fisherman? Just go to any freshwater fishing spot and look up. What do you see? That’s right, bobbers and fishing line with hooks decorating the tree branches or electric lines in great array. That makes it easy to buy for your freshwater fishing friend. A few packs of bobbers, several packs of hooks in various sizes and some spools of line.

When you go holiday shopping, please consider the local tackle shops over the big-box stores. These shops know the territory. They know what type of tackle a person needs for what type of fishing he or she does.