It is said that bricks make a good foundation for a home. I believe that the family is the key ingredient within those brick walls.

My mother's parents, both immigrants from Ireland, married and purchased a home at 5167 Dearborn St. in Garfield early last century to raise their family. Sadly, the mother died very young and the father was left with four children to raise on his own.

When he died a few years later, my mother -- who was born in the house in 1915 -- and her two sisters and one brother stayed together and somehow managed to survive.

Both their parents were "laid out" in the house, as was the Irish custom at that time. My mother was the first to marry and had her wedding "reception" in that house. My dad moved in with the brother and sisters to form a new family.

I don't know how they managed to fit everyone in, as the house was basically four rooms -- a living room and kitchen on the first floor and two bedrooms and bathroom on the second. There was an unfinished attic on the third floor and a cellar -- not a basement -- on the bottom.

Eventually the sisters and brother left to marry, and my mom and dad began raising their own family. And what a family it was -- eight children in 17 years!

As kids, we loved our house and loved our neighborhood. Back in the 1940s, we played games of Release, Kick the Can, Tag and Red Rover in the front street. We played outside until dusk, when the street lights came on. One of us was always glad to chant, "First to see the street light on," and someone would reply, "First to see them brighter."

Every summer, the Garfield Vets would hold a street fair on our street. We would love to sit on the front steps and watch the people walking up and down to the fair. There were a few carnival games, lots of cotton candy and goodies, games of chance and bingo every night. Music would play and it was a wonderful time.

We were crowded in our little house, but I honestly don't remember it being a problem. My parents' bedroom had the younger kids sleeping there with them. The girls had the other bedroom and the older boys would sleep in the attic. I don't know how we ever managed 10 people with one bathroom. It wasn't that unusual for the time.

We all walked to school at St. Lawrence O'Toole. We were always grateful we lived so close to school, as many other neighborhood children lived up "on the hill" and had quite a walk to and from school -- twice a day, as we came home for lunch. There was no cafeteria.

We had a charge account at Butler's Corner store, at North Evaline and Dearborn streets. We loved when it was payday, and my dad would take some of us with him when he paid the bill. Mrs. Butler always let us pick some free penny candy. It was a real treat!

The other fantastic treat from that time was to be able to go to Reinhold Ice Cream on Penn Avenue and get a huge skyscraper ice cream cone.

Sad to say, when my mother's father died, he left the house according to the Irish will. This meant that the son got three-fourths of the estate, and the other fourth was shared by the three daughters.

The sisters married and left, and my mother then had a full one-quarter share. When the brother decided to marry, my parents went to Garfield Savings and Loan and took out a mortgage to buy his share of the house.

That was the beginning of the end. As the children increased in the family, they mortgaged and remortgaged and eventually lost the family home around 1956.

A few other families lived there after ours, but the neighborhood, as well as the house, began to deteriorate. Recently, my Dearborn Street house was featured on a TV news clip showing the damage to abandoned houses. The copper plumbing was stolen as well as the aluminum siding. It was torn down this fall.

My brother-in-law went to the house and retrieved a few leftover bricks. He kindly gave one to me.

My brick represents family and foundation to me. It is one of my treasures.

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