First Holy Communion

My two sisters and I went to our parish reunion last weekend. Sacred Heart School and Church has been closed for nearly 35 years, it was torn down a couple of years ago, can't tell how that breaks our hearts. At the reunion we met up with former neighbors, former friends, and former classmates. It was as if we were in a dream, stepping back in time. It was over too soon.





My sister Mary made her First Holy Communion in 1954 at Sacred Heart School. Mary and Geri pictured above.

My brother Robert made his First Holy Communion in 1957. Above are all my brothers and sisters with my mom, I'm the one crying.My sister Geri made her First Holy Communion in 1959. Above is Geri and me on the front porch of our beloved home.





I made my First Holy Communion in 1963. Above I'm posing with my classmates...Lucy O'Reilly, me in the glasses, Ann Sheridan, and Bridget Holly.



My brother Michael made his First Holy Communion in 1964. Above he's with one of our teachers, I don't remember her name, and our friend Dennis.

We lived at Sacred Heart Parish until 1966. My dad walked my sister Mary down the aisle for her wedding at Sacred Heart Church in May of 66, we moved in June. It's a place that will live on forever in our hearts.

Childhood Parties

In 1963 (?) my friend Wendy had a Halloween Party in her basement.

I dressed as a "beatnik" as usual, and my brother Mike went as a girl.

Below is Dennis McGuire, Gene Davies, Chrissy Davies, Mike McGrath, Jerry Davies

Patsy McGuire, Peggy Davies, and Wendy Wertical. I'm the one being murdered by the vampire! These were the kids I played with in my youth.

Girls: Me, Peggy, Chrissy, Wendy, and Patsy

Boys: Dennis, Mike, Gene, Jerry

Michael won for best costume, he was wearing my clothes, my sister Geri and I made braids out of nylons.

Wendy also had great birthday parties! This was probably about the same time frame, 1963. I'm the one in blue making the goofy face, when you're 8 years old there's no reason to pose nicely for a photo!

Back Row: Patsy, and Pam (Wendy's cousin)

Middle Row: Wendy, girl in yellow I don't remember, Peggy, Kathy, and Mary Therese

Front Row: Maureen, Chrissy, another of Wendy's cousins I can't remember name, and the girl at the bottom of the photo I don't remember either. (Peggy maybe you can help me out.)

Obviously we were playing some sort of silly game using women's under garments!
These parties are clear in my memory, along with most of the kids, we thought childhood would never end. I still keep in touch with many of my childhood pals. They helped shape my life and gave me the wonderful childhood memories I keep in my heart.

High School Graduation

McGrath Siblings, 1964

Geralyn, Michael, Mary Rita, Maureen, Robert

My nephew Scott found a box of negatives at his mom's house so he's been scanning them and sending some of them to me. I don't think I'd ever seen the above photo before and am looking forward to seeing more!

The above photo was taken in our backyard on 73rd and Ada at Mary's Graduation from Sacred Heart High School.

1251 West 73rd St

This is the house I grew up in. I'm so lucky, I have happy memories of a happy childhood.

The house was white stucco, trimmed in green. My bedroom window is the top right, I shared the room with my older sister Geri. My brother Michael often slept in with us too because Geri was a great story teller and leader of our nightly games. In the dark we'd play, "Guess what I see", and "I'm thinking of something that's the color....red!" Also whoever raised their hand first when the lights of a car came down the street got a point....we'd play that game quietly after our parents had warned us repeatedly to stop giggling and go to sleep. We had a double bed that had a metal headboard. It squeeked and was great for sticking gum on to save till morning. The matress was well worn but great for jumping up and down on, it was the best trampoline ever. During the hot summer we'd push our bed up against that window so we could get a little fresh air, there was no fan or air conditioning.

My brother Robert's bedroom (and Michael's) was the window on the left. Robert told me that a gorilla lived on the roof outside our bedroom windows, after that I didn't like when the bed was pushed up against the window even though Geri assured me that Robert was a liar!

We had a large plastic Santa that Robert would put out on that roof every Christmas. It was about 5 feet tall and lit up. One winter day there was a horrid blizzard, the wind was whipping that Santa all over the place. Rob and I were worried it would break so we asked our mom for help getting the Santa inside but she told us leave it alone, it was too dangerous to try to bring it in. Rob and I were determined. (I think I was 6 and he was 12.) He hung out the window while I hung on to him. I remember that Santa was whipping around, but he was able to get ahold of it and we brought it into his bedroom. We hid it in his big closet so our mom wouldn't find out we'd rescued it!

The backyard was our world for the first few years of our lives. I knew every square inch of it including what flowers bloomed and when. In the summer we had a small pool to play in, and there was a swing set. We did have a garage at one time which I was frightened of but my mom had it torn down, well, more like it fell down when the men came to take it down. The family joke was that one man leaned against it and it fell down. When the garage was gone we had a large cement pad that was great for drawing on with chalk or riding our tricycle on. Michael had a tricycle that I got to ride sometimes, I never had my own bike. Later, Geri and I shared a grey bike with balloon tires, I couldn't even sit on the seat when I rode it because it was too big.

In the winter we'd freeze the yard for ice skating. Robert rigged up a light off the railing above the backporch so we could skate into the night. I can remember praying for snow, and then when it finally came we'd put on our overalls (I hated those ugly brown overalls but they sure kept me warm) and boots to go out to stomp the snow and water it down so it would freeze smooth. My mom was usually out there with us and the neighbor kids, while my dad was making popcorn and hot cocoa for when we came in from the cold. My eye glasses always steamed up, and my fingers and toes tingled from being cold. I can remember all of it like it was yesterday.

The backporch was one of my favorite places in the house. On the porch was an old wooden toy box that had been pink at one time and even though we didn't have very many toys that box held some treasures. There was a small bed on the porch for afternoon naps, and a large dining room table where we ate in the summertime. On warm summer evenings we'd all sit out there enjoying the breeze coming in the big screened windows. In the winter it was cold on the porch. My mom used it as a refridgerator sometimes.

The windows at the back of the house upstairs were to my mom's bedroom, and the small window was her closet. The closet was huge. I loved playing in it. It was always neat and organized. There were large shelves at the back of the closet where Michael and I used to climb up on and hid among the blankets.

On those very very hot summer nights we'd lay blankets down in front of my mom's bedroom window. Then we'd all line up along the floor in front of the window, 5 kids and my mom! I think we might have had a little fan, but actually I don't remember it blowing on us. I just remember being so hot I couldn't breathe and so tired I just wanted to go to sleep. Geri and Michael were afraid to sleep next to the closet door which was closed so I would take up position there even though I was afraid too but very brave.

We moved when I was 11 years old. My childhood ended with that move. Things were never the same after that. My sister Mary got married right before we moved. I had to contend with a new school, new church, new neighborhood, and new friends. My dad died. My life changed but I'll always have those wonderful memories growing up on 73rd and Ada.

"When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn't your old home you missed but your childhood. Sam Ewing"

Happy Birthday Daddy

Today is my dad's 101st Birthday.

He was the 6th child born to Irish immigrants on Feb 27, 1906, on the southside of Chicago. Delivered at home by a midwife who wrote his name on the birth certificate as Nicholas McGraw. Just think, he might have been called Nick. But instead he was known as Bob McGrath.

Following are a few photos our family has of him before he became "The Dad".

I think the above photo is the only photo we have of our dad with hair! This is the Knights of Columbus Basketball Team. The photo was probably taken around 1926, I'm guessing. I love the names....

at the top: Fitzgerald, McGrath(my dad), Hanley, O'Malley, Lenihan(his cousin)

bottom McCambridge, Coyle, Murphy, and Sweeney (I think a cousin too).

Apparently in the 1930's and 40's heading over to the other side of Lake Michigan to the state of Michigan by ferry or by train was the thing to do (that's where he met my mother). It's where he'd go fishing with the guys.

In the above photo that's my dad with the x above his head. That's my dad standing in the middle with a drink in his hand.
Here's another photo of my dad with his fishing buddies, and probably many of his cousins too. He's standing in the very center of the photo. I can't get over how much he looks like my brother Robert, or should I say, my brother looks like my dad.

In 1942, my dad was drafted into the U.S. Army during WWII. He was 36 years old, still single and living at home with his parents and brothers, working for the city of Chicago. He'd already lost his hair. Can you imagine being drafted at that age!

He was stationed in California as an M.P. (Military Police). He and my mother corresponded during the 3 years he was away. I sure do wish I could talk to him about where he was and what he did. We have one letter that he wrote to my mother, and these photos. He's the soldier in the middle of the above photo, posture just like both of my brothers.

The back of the above photo says in his handwriting, "Myself and Fort Ord" at least I think that what it says, it's hard to read his handwriting. It also says "California 1943". My dad is on the right.

The back of the above photo says in his handwriting, "The entrance to our barracks".



The back of the above photo says in his handwriting, "Just me Sept 1943 Burbank Cal"

My dad is on the right. I don't have the original so don't know what was written on the back. Cool photo of them marching isn't it?

The back of the above photo is very interesting, in his handwriting it says, " A fellow in our tent took some pictures and they were not any good so he threw them away. I got this one from another lad and it didn't turn out very good either. They said it was the fellow faults (sic) who develope them in Camp San Luis Obispo. I will have some taken here and send them home."

While my dad was stationed in California one of the things the Army had him and the fellows in his unit do was work as "extras" in the war movies that were being produced. The above photo is a movie set! That's my dad in the middle.

Here is another "movie" shot. My dad is the guy in the back looking up.

According to our Family Lore, my mom Rita bought a house with her mother at 7347 South Champlain on her 29th birthday, Dec 9, 1944. The day they moved into the house my dad helped them by getting city trucks. My mom said to my dad that day, "Well, what are we going to do? Get married or not?" My dad had gotten out of the Army in Oct of 1944, and wasn't working yet. When he left the Army he had 6 to $8000 dollars in his pocket. He had blown it all. He mom was very upset with him so when my mom asked him about getting married he started back to work in January and they married on June 2, 1945.The above photo is my dad and mom, Bob and Rita, December 1944, not too soon after getting engaged. I'll save their wedding photos for a later post.After WWII was over my dad and his buddies opened a Veteran's Club at 55th & Halsted. During 1948 through 1951 my dad worked as a bartender there on weekends for $50.00. This is how my dad and mom saved money for their first house. My dad and mom are on the far left of the above photo.
The above photo was taken in 1949, probably at Maple Lake where my mom's family had family reunions each summer. My dad always wore a light colored straw hat in the summer, and a darker wool hat in the winter like in the last two photos.

Great Discovery!

March 6, 1955 is the date I was baptised. This is my Aunt Molly, who was really my dad's cousin Molly McCarthy, but we always called her Aunt Molly. She was the best God-mother because she always gave me a gift for Christmas and my birthday. She was from Ireland but lived at my grandfather's house when she was living in the States. Aunt Molly died when I was 6 years old. One day not too long after she died we visited at my grandfather's house, my Aunt Shirley said there was something for me. She pulled out a wrapped box from behind the couch. It was a birthday present from Aunt Molly. A blue sweater that was very soft. I was amazed that I could still get presents from Aunt Molly even though she died.
Above is my Grandfather, John McGrath. He came to America from Ireland in the late 1800's. Doesn't he look like a good ole' Irish Grandpa! I think he was 89 or 90 when he died in 1959, a very old age in those days considering he probably lived a very harsh life.

Holding me is my cousin Mary Lou.

Mary Lou grew up in my grandfather's house where her parents lived.

My grandfather's house was a typical Irish family, lots of people living there and our family faithfully visited every Sunday at least until my grandfather died, and then after but not as often. The women took care of babies and cooked, while the men played cards.

Everyone got dressed up too!

Here's another photos of my Aunt Molly holding me again. Notice the ash tray right nearby! Those were the days!


This is my sister Geri, my Aunt Molly, and My Aunt Mary Jane who was my mother's sister. Oh! Notice Molly has an apron on, I thought that gave a wonderful clue that she was helping my mom in the kitchen. These photos were taken at the house I grew up in by the way. (Notice the burning cigarette in the ash tray, and the man in the chair behind my Aunt Mary Jane, undoubtedly playing cards. He's sitting at the dining room table.)

I love the slip covers on the furniture, I wonder if my sister Mary can tell me what color they were?

Above is a photo of my siblings and I. Robert, Mary, Geri, and me. Notice the baby crib in the background. And see the corner cabinet in the background, my mom used it in several parts of the house...for awhile it was in the bathroom with towels on it, and later, in the 1960's my mom painted it turqouise blue and cut it up to make little corner shelves to hang on the walls.

**

I have most of the above original photos in my possession but I always wondered why there were pictures of me posed with different relatives at my christening party but no photos of me with my mom and dad. I always wondered what they looked like when I was born.

**

Now, here's the important part. Go back to the photo above. Notice the table next to the kids with the open purse.

**

On the back of the following picture it says "Geri's Christening Day, 1951" (mom's handwriting)

BUT LOOK AT THE LITTLE TABLE WITH THE PURSE ON IT! SO IT'S REALLY ME WITH MY PARENTS ON MY CHRISTENING DAY WHEN I WAS ONE MONTH OLD! All these years I thought it was Geri!

Cool Discovery!

My dad was 49 years old, my mom was 39 years old. She gave birth to my brother 9 months after this photo was taken! (He was 2 months premature.)

The Dad

I love this photo of my parents, especially of my dad. The baby is my brother Robert Emmet Jr, who was born in 1949. Doesn't my dad look like the Proud Papa.

I didn't know my dad very well, he died when I was 13. But some of the things I remember is that he loved the White Sox (we do carry on that tradition!) He had a lot of funny sayings, like "Itchy Boom Ba Uh Oh!" and "Da Do Da Do". He always signed a birthday card, "The Dad". He smelled like Old Spice and beer. He made breakfast on the weekends....bacon and eggs like I've never had since he died. He helped my mom with housework. He worked for the city of Chicago.

I remember when Michael and I were little tiny kids we'd each sit on a knee while he sat at the dining room table reading his paper and drinking beer...warm Meister Brau...he'd bounce us while we sipped beer out of little glasses (the kind of glasses that shimp came in). My dad slept downstairs off the living room, on the weekends my mother would send Michael and I downstairs to get into bed with him in the early morning hours, we'd run cars up and down his arm and giggle until he'd make us go back to sleep.

My dad was drafted into WWII at age 36. He was an MP and was stationed in California to "protect the coast". My dad and mom met at a dance hall in Michigan (even though both of them lived on the southside of Chicago) a week before he was to leave for the service. His family threw a going away party which my mom attended, the family fell in love with her and so did my dad. My parents got to know each other during WWII via air mail letters.

My dad was 39 when they got married, by age 50 he had 5 children under the age of 10.

My oldest sister Mary got married when she was 19, my dad walked her down the aisle. Not too soon after that he was diagnosed with cancer and for the following two years he spent most of the time in the Veteran's Hospital in downtown Chicago. Our family would go twice a week to visit him. Michael and I were not allowed to go up to see him because we were under 14 years of age (yes, there were rules like that back then), so we'd sit in the lobby of the hospital for hours waiting for our mom to come back down.

He was able to come home from the hospital on holidays and for a couple of weeks during the summer. He called it a furlow. When I was in 7th and 8th grade I would come home from school at lunchtime to make lunch for Michael and I, and then I'd clean and change his bandages from skin grafting I think. That's what it looked like to me because the wounds were big squares. He never complained.

The last time I saw him was on my sister Mary's 22nd birthday, Sept 9, 1968, he had been home for a few days but was in a lot of pain. Every day my mom kept asking him if he wanted to go back to the hospital but he kept saying no. I think he knew it would the last time.

The pain must have been too much because then he asked to go back to the hospital. I was sitting on the front porch when he came out and with the help of someone (maybe my brother or my mom) he walked down the front steps while crying. I just watched as he got into the car. I can't remember if I ran up to the car to say good-bye but I'd like to think I did. He died in October.

The following February, Mary gave birth to my dad's first grandchild Scott.