Our staff shares stories of favorite childhood Christmas toys and presents

By Cityview staff

What’s the best part about Christmas morning? For children of any generation, it is opening gifts. In past years, our staff members picked their favorite Christmas movies and music, but this year it’s all about the presents. We compiled a light-hearted list of our favorite holiday gifts and hope our memories will remind you of those magical mornings around the tree, too!

Stretch Monster

Shane Goodman, Cityview editor and publisher

Mrs. Lentsch asked students in her fourth-grade class at St. Cecilia’s Catholic School to share their favorite Christmas presents. I didn’t hesitate with my response, as Kenner’s Stretch Monster was all I could think about during that 1978 winter.

The instruction sheet in the packaging said, “Stretch Monster is really a sweet monster, unless he is angry.” Well my brother and I really tried to piss off this 5-pound, green monster (it wasn’t a doll, dammit) by twisting, pulling and stretching it to capacity. The directions showed how to maneuver Stretch Monster into dominating and awkwardly sexual moves (see photo) like the gruesome grip, the reptile whip, the swamp squeeze and the monster bash, but my brother was more interested in seeing how far this thing would stretch before snapping. My mission was to keep him from doing that. My Stretch Monster’s ultimate demise came when an ink pen punctured his belly, creating a hole that oozed out the red, syrup-like material he was filled with. A few layers of duct tape around the mid-section did the trick for a while, but this archenemy of Kenner’s good guy, Stretch Armstrong, was laid to rest after the ooze hardened, taking the stretch out of my Stretch Monster.

Record Player

Darren Tromblay, Cityview managing editor and Iowa Living magazines editor

As a youngster growing up in a tiny town of 250 in northwest Iowa, I lived a pretty simple life. My buddies and I had a yearly “to do” list that consisted of three things: playing, riding our bikes and popping bubbles on the tar-covered pea rock we called roads. Oh, and wait for Christmas. That was the big one. Our parents may have been on the perpetual brink of bankruptcy, but they never let us down on Christmas. One year it was Rock-Em-Sock-Em Robots and a pair of Spiderman Underoos. Another it was K-Tel Fun Skis. But nothing matched the glory of Christmas Day, 1977. I had been a particularly good kid that year with a mere four or five groundings for the usual stuff — breaking the front window of the Datsun with a baseball, knocking out my brother’s front teeth, etc. Santa rewarded my good behavior with a record player — my first foray into music. With it came Bay City Rollers, Village People and KC and the Sunshine Band albums, too. I would spend hours in my room listening to the sounds and being mesmerized by the vinyl’s constant, wobbly trek around the player. I fell in love with music then, and equally as important, became a 9-year-old recluse with an affinity for disco. Thanks, Mom and Dad.

G.I. Joe — The U.S.S. Flagg

Jared Curtis, Cityview arts & entertainment editor

Being a kid of the ’80s, I grew up in a time ruled by action figures. I had them all, from “Star Wars” to “Masters of the Universe” to “Transformers” to “Voltron.” But there was a certain group of action figures I spent the majority of time playing with and that was G.I. Joe. G.I. Joe was “the Real American Hero,” and the inexpensive price ($2-$3) and numerous characters (I had more than 200 figures) helped them flood children’s toys boxes and build imaginations for years to come. I spent hours building sets and strategically placing my numerous vehicles throughout, lost in G.I. Joe scuffles with their sworn enemy Cobra. But my enjoyment of the action figures and vehicles all changed when I received the greatest gift ever on Christmas morning 1986 — The U.S.S. Flagg. Almost 8 feet long, this massive play set took up the entire space under the tree, and I was shocked to see it there Christmas morning. It was loaded to the gills with compartments, removable pieces (which I lost the majority of), and even had its figure, Admiral Keel-Haul. I spent years playing with the aircraft carrier and became the envy of all my friends. Although I still have a few boxes of G.I. Joe figures and vehicles tucked away in my parent’s basement, the U.S.S. Flagg was just too big to store. It was sold at a garage sale during my high school years, but I really wish I still had that gigantic toy. I could have made a killing selling it on eBay.

Homemade doll cradle

Kathy Summy, Iowa Living magazines editorial assistant

My best Christmas present was a doll cradle — judging from the picture, it must have been the Christmas of 1958, about a month after I turned 3 years old. That cradle came as close to being an actual gift from Santa’s workshop as you can get. My mother — who was a very creative lady — drew up the plans. Dad did the building, and Mom decorated the finished product. It’s a light robin’s egg blue with decals of flowers on the headboard and a decal of a kneeling little girl with “Now I lay me down to sleep” printed over her head at the opposite end. The mattress was a piece of folded blanket in a white pillowcase, and I had handmade doll quilts from a great-aunt. Plenty of dolls were rocked to sleep in that bed.

The cradle, all its bedding and my favorite dolls were moved to our house in DeSoto after I got married; the cradle was a favorite nap spot for our first cat. The doll bed is still in great shape — its paint and decals have held up well over the years, and the quilts are like new.

My family is facing its first Christmas without Mom this year, and that makes the cradle extra special. This is a gift from the heart, crafted by my parents for their little girl. The cradle didn’t come from a factory; it came from our home, and love was as important to its construction as the paint and nails. Thanks, Mom; thanks, Dad.

Toy Bongos

Amber Williams, Cityview reporter

When I was 4 years old, I was in love with Led Zeppelin drummer John Bonham (although he died six months before I was born). But while the other kids were swooning over Robert Plant and Jimmy Page, I was digging the old footage of the scruffy cat in the background who barely looked up from the drums. I wanted to be a drummer in a rock-and-roll band.

For three years, a drum kit topped my Christmas wish list. I fantasized about how stellar my playing would be — how the sticks would magically unleash the hidden gift God had bestowed upon me at birth. Finally one year, my mother attempted to fulfill my request.

I tried to hide my disappointment as I unwrapped a set of toy bongos — a meager semblance to only appease me — and I accepted that this was as close as I’d ever get to the real thing. As a mother now, looking back, I realize both the cost and the fact that we lived in a Cracker Jack apartment made the Led Zeppelin drum kit far too impractical for a 7-year-old kid. But I still love John Bonham.

Lionel Train Set

Pete Gardner, Iowa Living magazines sales representative

My brother and I waited in our room with bated breath to see what might be under the Christmas tree. Mom was secretive and kept us busy in the morning with our stockings before we could see the tree. When she gave the signal, we ran to find what Santa had surprisingly left in the night. I was 8 or 9 when I received my first Lionel Train set. There it was, chugging around the tree, all shiny and wonderful. I don’t remember what my brother had under the tree, as my eyes were glued on that train — it was just what I asked for. We spent hours reworking the track into different configurations, but there weren’t enough hours in the day for me to get my fill.  For months after, my brother and I found lots of ways to play with that train set. My Mom made this a special Christmas indeed. Choo, choo!

American Girl Doll

Ashley Roberts, Cityview sales manager

Seeing an American Girl Doll for the first time was very memorable. I begged my parents for my very own Samantha doll, only to be disappointed for years because I didn’t get one. Finally, when I was 8 years old and had read all of the American Girl Doll Samantha books, I received my very own doll from none other than Santa. Each year my older brother, who was 9 at the time, was the first to wake up and scope out what everyone got. I remember him running into my room to show me. I was so excited, that is until he pointed out that my American Girl Doll still had a shipping receipt on it from Grandma. Rookie mistake by my parents.

It’s crazy to think how much the dolls have changed. When I was young, there were five or so dolls to choose from and each had about three different outfits you could buy. Today, girls have it much better as they can get a doll made to look just like them. It’s easy to see why American Girl Dolls have become a part of every girl’s wish list.

Barbie Jeep

Christi Adams, Cityview sales representative

The year was 1991, and I was 5 years old. This was my first Christmas after my parents’ divorce. Rather than explain what it meant for me, they just bought me things — which I gladly accepted. My favorite was a bright pink Barbie Jeep. The only catch was that since I got mine for Christmas and we had snow on the ground, I was forced to navigate my Jeep in the confines of my newly-single parent home. My mom made the best of the situation and set up a couch cushion obstacle course. As you may imagine, the Barbie Jeep didn’t turn on a dime and the semi-shag carpet limited its maneuverability. After 45 minutes, my concern was no longer how well it steered or the inside track, because the battery died. So much for that! I relinquished from my adventures to the couch to watch a “My Little Pony” VHS tape. The Barbie Jeep now collects dust in Mom’s attic — she’s saving it for her grandchildren. It’s going to be a while, Mom.

Speak and Math machine

Celeste Jones, Cityview design manager

The robotic voice that came out of these handheld computers in the late 1980s kept my 6-year-old self company for hours on end. Hearing, “You are right,” was the next best thing to getting an A in school. Solving word and math problems that became progressively more difficult got me through more than a few rainy afternoons. The one game I didn’t understand and frustrated most others was “Number Stumpers.” In this game, the computer randomly selected a number and you were supposed to guess it correctly. It would tell you if any of the digits were correct or in the right place. I never got those correct! “Sorry, try again,” that electronic voice would tell me repeatedly until I was called for dinner. Thank you Speak and Math for teaching me that guessing the answers and not showing my work was the way to reach my learning goals. Too bad, my schoolteachers did not agree. CV