UNION BEACH — This is a story of peace on earth, goodwill toward men. Or lack thereof. A story of holiday spirit, turned holiday spite.

It begins with a six-foot singing Santa Claus, of the mechanical variety, plugged into the Union Beach home of Jill Patella. From her front porch, the plastic-faced Santa sings a loop of jolly Christmas songs. Remember that word, "loop."

The singing Santa waves and talks, too. In a booming baritone, Santa asks "How about a song to get you into the holiday spirit?" He asks this hundreds of times a day: to joggers, dog-walkers, the mailman or anyone else that wanders by. Then comes a song. And another. And another. And another. And .. you get the idea.



"Walking in a Winter Wonderland."

"We Wish You a Merry Christmas."

"It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year."

Except in Patella’s neighborhood, it isn’t.

A neighbor complained not long after Santa was plugged in. It was making her loopy.

"She came over and said, ‘That thing is so ugly, I can’t take it anymore,’" Patella said.

Police were called. A decibel test was done. Singing Santa was within the law.

"I went into the neighbor’s house," Sgt. Tim Kelly said. "She kept saying, ‘Can you hear it? Can you hear it?’ Finally, I did, but I had to strain to hear it."

Kelly told Patella her Santa passed the decibel test.

"As long as it was off between 10 p.m. and 8 a.m., I told her it was okay."

But on Dec. 11, another Union Beach officer came by and gave Patella a ticket. The violation: NOISE. Written in capital letters.

Noise is exactly how Mark Dittman describes it. He lives across the street, and works nights and tries to sleep days. He says his wife, too, has trouble sleeping.

Union Beach fight over singing Santa 6 Gallery: Union Beach fight over singing Santa

"All the neighbors are complaining," he said. "It’s playing from 8:30 in the morning til 10:30 or 11 o’clock at night. We don’t mind that she has it on. But just lower it."

Another neighbor, who asked not to be identified, said the whole thing "is stupid."

"Why can’t she just lower the damn thing?" she asked.

The Santa was barely audible beyond Patella’s yard Friday. Up close, the whir of the electric motor was nearly as loud as "Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas!" Neighbors said it was turned low, for show.

"She turned it down because you guys were coming," he said.

Not true, Patella said. "If I put it up too loud, it gets all staticky. It’s not like I put the Santa out there to torment everybody."

And this where a little Christmas spirit is in order. Patella could unplug Santa for long stretches; the neighbors could be more tolerant of a lady who is recovering from a deep sadness. Peace and goodwill, in that order.

See, the Santa is "very sentimental" to Patella. It was the last Christmas decoration bought by her husband before he died suddenly in 2007 at the age of 44.

"I wanted it, but he said it was too expensive. Then he surprised me with it."

That was for Christmas, 2006, while the family lived in Arizona.

Daniel Patella died the following April of a massive stroke. The last three Christmas seasons have gone by without much joy for Patella. This year, she decided to decorate just like before.

"It was always my favorite holiday."

She has a tree in every room, and every doorway is ringed with evergreen. The walls are decorated with bows and ribbons and bells. There are porcelain Santas and Santa candles on every available shelf. There are wreaths and electric candles in every window. And the singing Santa is out front, warbling this advice:



It's the most wonderful time of the year

With the kids jingle-belling

And everyone telling you

Be of good cheer

It’s the most wonderful time of the year