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My family never had much money when I was growing up in Boston but I would not have changed my childhood for anything in the world. These were very happy years of my life, and I had a wonderful family and a lot of special times.
Every year at Christmastime especially, I think often of my late father, Bill Stewart, Jr. and I try to pay forward the many great things he did for his family, his friends and even for strangers. My father's caring and kindness was not confined to activities around the hockey rink, but hockey was one of the things that we bonded over from the time I was young.
I grew up in and around the Boston Arena (now Matthews Arena) on what is now part of the campus of Northeastern University. That was my playground for much of the year. It was where I learned to skate, where I worked some odd jobs and also where I would go to watch my father referee games and take in other events at the facility for free.
I used to make a couple dollars a month doing odd jobs around the arena, helping out the men who ran the skate shop and the snack bar. The latter guy was a bookie on the side. He would sometimes disappear for long stretches to take some people's last-minute bets while I, before my 10th birthday, was left in charge of getting customers their french fries, burgers or hot chocolate.
With some change in my pocket or maybe a dollar given to me by my dad, I would sometimes go to the Windsor Tap across the street for a hot turkey sandwich. It was not uncommon at that time for me to run into athletes and performers who worked at the arena.
For example, Vince McMahon Sr.'s Capitol Wrestling group -- later WWWF, WWF and today, WWE -- frequently ran shows at the Arena during the late 1950s and 1960s. I got to know many of the wrestlers of the day, including the likes of Haystacks Calhoun (purported to be 600 pounds), Walter "Killer" Kowalski (who lived locally), Robert "Gorilla Monsoon" Marella and Pat O'Connor. They were all nice guys.
I met Vince Sr. a few times. He, too, was a nice man if a bit reserved. Oddly enough, I ended up years later living near his much more colorful son, Vince McMahon Jr. This was at the time the CEO of today's WWE owned an interest in the Cape Cod Coliseum and, apart from promoting wrestling, owned the Cape Cod Buccaneers of the Atlantic Coast Hockey League (1981–82). I have a story about that for another time, but I played briefly for the Buccaneers after my NHL playing career. Suffice it to say for now that Vince's promotional vision for hockey was very much influenced by his style of wrestling promotion.
At any rate, was I was not on the ice during my childhood, chances were still pretty good that I could be found somewhere in or around the building.
My first skates were a pair of hand-me-down white figure skates. What I really wanted, of course, was my own pair of hockey skates -- no toe pick, smoother acceleration for hockey purposes, not to mention more masculine -- but I was glad just to have skates of any kind.
In December of 1962 or 1963, the owner of the skate shop asked me to do him a favor. He told me that he was giving a pair of hockey skates to his nephew for Christmas, and asked if I could help him out.
"He's your age and right about the same size as you," he said. "Would you just try these on to see how they fit?"
"OK," I said.
I looked at the skates longingly: two-tone brown, stiffer than the figure skates I had grown accustomed to, and a perfect fit for my feet. I hated to take them off, but I did my best not to let on that I suddenly felt a bit envious of his nephew.
Christmas morning came. My family sat around, and the kids opened their gifts. I got a few small toys and perhaps some socks or a new scarf.
Do you remember that scene in "A Christmas Story" where little Ralphie's father has one last surprise gift from Santa Claus that he's hidden in the room? He calls his son's attention to it after everything else has been opened and then takes in his son's joy at receiving the air rifle that he'd coveted.
I could relate to that scene very personally.
My father said to me, "Paul, what it is that over there?"
"Where?" I said.
He pointed. It was then I saw one more box, which had been deliberately semi-hidden when he and my mother put out all the gifts.
You guessed it: The gift was my first genuine pair of hockey skates; the very ones I had tried on in the skate shop!
Many, many years later, when I was a NHL referee, I spent some time near Christmas with my dad. Every year, we would go together to get our Christmas tree, and pick out the biggest one. This year, I bought a small but beautiful one of about five feet tall.
We decorated the tree and then sat together on the couch, sharing a drink and talking.
"Do you remember the Christmas when you got the skates?" he asked me.
"Of course!" I said.
"I want you to know," he said. "That year was the best Christmas I ever had."
"Me, too," I said.
That was our final Christmastime together. Bill Stewart Jr. died on Dec. 6, 1986. In the years since his passing, I have tried to bring to others the joy my own father brought to me.
It warms my heart that my own sons, McCauley and Maxwell, have inherited the same love for hockey that I, my father and my grandfather had. This year, we collected some hockey equipment and donated it to the inner city hockey foundation that is operated by Willie O'Ree; so that underprivileged youngsters can have their very own hockey equipment that they otherwise never could.
As an adult, I have come to understand and share that joy of giving that was central to my father's character. I know of no better way to honor him.
Merry Christmas, readers. I will be back on Thursday.
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Recent Blogs by Paul Stewart
Romeo and that Fox-y Glow
On Wilson, Kamikaze Attacks and Red Herrings
Working With Injury
Coach Accountability and the Engelland Incident
Linesman Appreciation Day: From Thor to Bob's Big Boy to 42nd St. Cops
NHL Officials: Americans Still Have a Hard Time Being Hired
Crisp Thoughts
Olympic Officials: Jeux San Frontieres?
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Paul Stewart holds the distinction of being the first U.S.-born citizen to make it to the NHL as both a player and referee. On March 15, 2003, he became the only American-born referee to officiate in 1,000 NHL games.
Today, Stewart is an officiating and league discipline consultant for the Kontinental Hockey League (KHL) and serves as director of hockey officiating for the Eastern College Athletic Conference (ECAC).
The longtime referee heads Officiating by Stewart, a consulting, training and evaluation service for officials, while also maintaining a busy schedule as a public speaker, fund raiser and master-of-ceremonies for a host of private, corporate and public events. As a non-hockey venture, he is the owner of Lest We Forget.
Stewart is currently working with a co-author on an autobiography.
Blogger •Former NHL Referee • 
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