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Text Box: What people have written Lauri Githens Hatch: "Hockey fan creates community on ice", (click on link to view article) The Democrat & Chronicle 1/29/03 Download Adobe Reader  Nick Bondurant: "Deer Bone Arena Poem" When I wake up Early in the morning On the February break I always go to Deerbone Ice Arena We get to the open garage door With a hint of kerosene From the nice heater sitting on the rug Waiting for someone to heat Then we all get on the morning ice And skate around for about 2 hours Then we have hot chocolate That Mrs. S. always makes Then we repeat again No refs, no time, no penalties Just shots, passes, and saves We always have fun, in the late winter days You can always make a friend Or you can make a foe From a big center ice hit That you can’t wait to throw Then late at night We all go home, ready  To repeat all over again Deer Bone Ice Arena is Driving there early Evergreen scent Eating donuts Rushing to get dressed Being ready for a pass Overly delicious hot chocolate New ideas Everlasting memories Doug Fee: Backyard Rink Memories - March 29, 2008 Well another year has come and gone. I do  miss the days of Deer Bone. They always took me back to a kinder and gentler time when I was a boy. (or should I actually say "Head Ice Developer") Seems it was colder sooner back then as we always seemed to have ICE for Christmas Vacation! It was exactly as Nick B. states in his great poem, we could not wait to get home from school to "Lace 'em up!!!"   Well our backyard rink has to pay tribute too a family that gave as the Stancampiano's give today. Mr. and Mrs. Castle and the back yard rink near the corner of Elmwood and Antlers Dr in the town of Brighton. The Castles were known to feed the hoards, many times with a gallon or more of hot chocolaty heaven and four or five pounds of Sloppy Joe's! Mrs Castle while coming from and marrying into extreme wealth, (Morse as in lumber and Castle as in look up at the dentists office Sybron / Castle Corp) was the least pretentious person in Brighton NY. She would not even let us take our skates off as we came into her delightful kitchen to partake of the feast!   Many people enjoyed their Friday nights at the B-ball game at BHS. DF as I was know then and still to Castles much preferred making ice. I was allowed a key to the "RINK on Antlers Drive" and would lay layer after layer of water to ice on those freezing cold evenings. Saturday and Sunday were coming. As a point for some perspective folks there was no Monroe County High School Hockey League. We are at this point in the mid 60's and MCHSHL was formed in 1969. As a trivia question name the six  original teams, I know only a handful that can still do it! Yes I am one.   Through the connections with the lumber company Castles bought a bunch of plywood. We had only end boards and a hip check often sent one flying into the snow with great laughter from all present. I digress a moment, but I once had a court case downtown where the judge, The Honorable Thomas Rainbow Morse had to disclose to a defendant that DF had many times knocked him into the snow as a youth. The offer to recuse himself was denied and I was declared the victor at a later time! Anyhow we kids were so excited to get end boards so as not to spend ones day chasing hockey pucks. (of course I never missed ) Well we soon found the boards both a blessing and a curse. We had painted them white and after a full day of sun reflecting off the boards, the ice at both ends would be nearly ruined!   As the DBA knows when a problem rears it head spare no expense to find a solution. Yes folks perfection is never achieved on ones first try. Seek and ye shall find. The answer paint that was rather expensive, made the boards look like a blackboard but kept the reflection to a bare minimum. Had I had the foresight at 14 and patten ed this paint I would be a millionaire today. You see this paint is now used to kill the radar shadow of the Stealth Bomber!! Too soon old too late smart. We had FUN!!!   I feel like a kid again having put pencil to paper so to speak to Honor the Stancampiano's and the Castle's. My dear friend Mrs Castle is not well at this point, please honor Fran and Gerry with a quick prayer. Thank the people that put forth the effort to help our kids grow as the might Oak tree, strong and straight. You only go round once and these are days to remember the rest of our lives. I know I will, drink it all in and you will too.   DF and his only regret is that I never was able to skate with Talon. Until the day I put a slapper through the garage door he did not know anything of my hockey past. As a 6 year old Talon and a PONY team from Rochester Youth  all went to Mississauga ON to play in a Tike Tourney. Of course Don Cherry's and Hockey Hall of Fame were on the agenda. In the Hall of Fame we enjoyed all the exploits of Howe and Hull, Gretz and the rest. The true awakening for Talon came as all the dad's were shooting at a goal with 9 rectangles on it. With my knee killing me I just sat back and watched as very few were able to light the board completely. Talon asked me to take a wack at it, and not to disappoint I did. No brag just the facts here, 9 shots lit nine rectangles and I believe my son found a new way to look at his dad. One of the great moments of my life. I did so want to skate with all of you each and every time you "Laced 'em up!!!"   Trivia responses to: masterglasster@yahoo.com   Sincerely, Doug Fee   DF   PS Thanks too Sam Toth folks, without him high school hockey might still be in its infancy!! Jim Spawton: A Visit to Deer Bone Arena Growing up in Buffalo New York in the 1960’s, I was well aware of the value of a natural ice surface. Every day after school we could hardly wait to get off the bus so we could change our clothes, grab our skates and stick and rush down to our local rink. After a spirited hockey game it was home for supper and homework and then back to the rink for a game “under the lights” before heading home for showers and bed, only to repeat the routine the next day. The routine never got old. Winter meant hockey and that was just fine with us. The rink was a depression in the ground behind our local library. Workmen had dug it out one summer and planted grass in it. Most of the year it sat as just that, a grassy hole in the ground. When the consistent cold temperatures of December and January came, a fire hose was brought out and we had a rink! Standing on that ice surface was as though we were standing at center ice at Maple Leaf Gardens or that immortal shrine of hockey, the Forum in Montreal. These were the days of the original six teams. The days of Bobby Hull and Gordie Howe, Tim Horton and Jean Beliveau, Ed Giacomin and Bobby Orr! There weren’t hundreds of TV channels as we have today, there were three; except in Buffalo where we also received three Canadian stations. Saturday afternoons in the winter  were spent watching OHA Junior A hockey, curling and box lacrosse. Saturday night of course was “Hockey Night in Canada” and that meant we could see the Leafs or the Habs play one of the other four NHL teams! Maintenance at the rink was up to us. There were snow shovels stuck upside down in a snow bank for us to use and we shoveled it frequently. If  there was a heavier snow, a bench was turned on its side and three guys skated behind it turning it into a snow plow. There was a burn barrel to keep warm and  we always kept the fire stoked with scrap wood and construction debris that was dropped off for that purpose. Every couple of days the rink would be flooded at the end of the night to maintain the thickness of the ice.  The rink was undoubtedly very basic, but it was fun. It was everybody working together. It was a place to learn new skills and it was a place to take as much time as necessary to learn a skill – something that can’t be done in today’s structured practices. It became a great memory. In 1970 the Buffalo Sabres began playing in the National Hockey League and the days of outdoor natural rinks were over. Every town in the Greater Buffalo area scrambled to build indoor rinks. We thought it was the greatest and readily adapted to our new surroundings;  artificial ice year round, boards, dressing rooms, snack bars and Zamboni ice resurfacing machines. We were in heaven; who could ask for anything more? Now it’s January 2003. It’s been 30 years of indoor rinks. I’ve continued to play all these years, now my two kids and wife play and hockey is the number one sport in our family. My 10 year old son has a hockey game on a Saturday afternoon and the Stancampiano family, whose daughter plays defense on our team, invites the team over to their house to skate on their backyard rink and have a little team party after the game. Sounds like fun - we have a great group of kids and parents – count us in ! After the game, which our team won 4-1, Brian Stancampiano gives us directions to his house and tells the kids that they’ll need shin guards and helmets to go on the ice. The players decide that they’ll simply keep all their gear on. It’s off to the Stancampianos and a good time. We get to Brian and Sara’s house and go down a long driveway, park in front of their garage totally unaware of what we are about to find. We walk into the garage and behold an unbelievable sight. Here, in a three car garage, is one bay devoted entirely to skating. There are benches to change skates on, warmed by the comforting soft orange glow of kerosene heaters. Along one wall are racks of skates to fit anyone if they don’t have their own. Next are bins with protective equipment, especially helmets. There is hot chocolate and pop and juices to drink. A door with glass frosted by the cold weather leads to the backyard rink. We are enjoying ourselves already and we haven’t even seen the rink. It’s great just sitting here with friends taking it all in. But we came to skate and the kids are leading the charge. The kids put their skates on  and we all stop to read the rink rules posted on the frosted glass; it’s time to go out and hit the ice. Opening the door puts me back in another time. Here is an outdoor rink in a park like setting. It’s dark outside but the rink is very well lit by four floodlights. Pine trees at one end are decorated by strings of small white Christmas lights. There are boards, with blue lines and a red line. There are goals at each end. There is a scoreboard. There are kids skating. Tom Connor is singing “The Good Old Hockey Game” over the speakers in Brian’s yard just like at an NHL arena. The good times of my youth are in front of me, ready for my children to enjoy. My kids have never seen anything like this before. Watching them take the ice with their friends reminds me of when I did it with mine many years ago. By one corner of the rink is a fire pit with a roaring fire. Since it’s about 10 degrees outside, my wife and I head that way . We pass racks of hockey sticks and even brooms for broom ball. In a snow bank are snow shovels to clean the rink – it’s deja-vu. By the fire parents have gathered. We keep warm and talk, and of course eat. There are hot dogs and chips and dips and finger foods. Beverages cool in the snow. It’s a very cold and clear night but no one seems to care. We laugh about the cold as we have a great time socializing. On the ice the kids have been split into three teams. Two play while the third sits in reserve, anxious to take their place on the ice. A dad has taken on the task of refereeing and seems to be enjoying himself. We enjoy watching him! As I watch the kids skate in their Buffalo Sabres uniforms and play a very spirited game I don’t think  I could enjoy the moment any more if I was at the HSBC arena in Buffalo watching the real Sabres.  I’m in a simply beautiful well lit setting, spending time with good friends, watching my kids play on what has to be one of the most beautiful outdoor rinks anywhere. Who could ask for more? The Deer Bone Arena is more than a backyard rink. It is a magical place, another world that allows us a brief escape from our hectic everyday lives. It takes us back to a simpler time when life and leisure were not controlled by electronic devices. It is there that the gift of friendship truly abounds.