A Home Away From Home Abbie Creed   © Copyright 2026 by Abbie Creed

Photo courtesy of the author.

Growing up in the 1930’s was certainly quite different from today, but some things don’t change. I came from a large, strong Irish Catholic family. We lived in an Irish community called Limerick, where our church, St. Louis Bertrand was at the center of our life. There were nine children. All of us graduated from the parish school. My brothers were altar servers, my dad sang in the church choir, and the girls joined the Young Ladies Altar Sodality. I am the 8th of nine children. My mother died when I was not quite 3 years old, and my dad died when I was 11 years old. My Aunt and Uncle who raised me, and my grandfather James, who lived with us, remained active members of the church.

Way back in 1943 when I was 12 years old, my Uncle John sold pianos and organs for Baldwin Piano Company. The store manager had bought a new home way up there in the Highlands, in a subdivision known as Winston Forrest. Tom’s wife had just had a baby girl and we were all anxious to meet her. Uncle John brought my younger sister and me to see the new baby and the new house. Down the street from Tom another of the salesmen at Baldwin had purchased a house in that same subdivision.

When I was 17 years old, a new church, St. Raphael the Archangel, was being constructed at Bardstown Road and Lancashire Avenue. Uncle John sold an electronic organ to the new church. It was donated by a family who were charter members. The church was in the school building, and I was privileged to see what it was going to look like because our family attended a fund-raising Bingo for the new church on Sunday afternoon. It was held across the street at the Highland Post American Legion. They had displays there of the future school/ church that was going to be built.

Four years later, I was married to my best friend, Dan, at St. Louis Bertrand church. That is where I was baptized, made my First Communion, was confirmed, and graduated from the parish school, and it was my parish church. There was no place like the Dominican church as far as my whole family was concerned. It was our home away from home.

After Dan and I were married, we left immediately for Gulfport, Mississippi, where Dan was stationed at the Air Force Base, Keesler Field, in nearby Biloxi, Mississippi. Mississippi is not Catholic country by any means, but we found a church, St. John, and when Kathy was born, we had her baptized there. It was not a very friendly parish, at least in comparison to St Louis Bertrand. However, when Kathy was a baby, we moved to a new apartment closer to Long Beach, down the road a few miles from Gulfport. We found a small quaint little church on Beach Boulevard where we were welcomed with open arms. In a noticeably short time Dan became their choir director and remained in that ministry for almost three years.

The people we rented our apartment from were Catholic and so was the couple who owned the neighborhood grocery store. Both families adopted us. Their children were grown, and I think because we were Catholic and away from home, they reached out to become family for us. They were like grandparents for Kathy and our new son, Reilly, who was born in Gulfport hospital and baptized at our new church, St. Thomas. Sad to say, St. Thomas was destroyed during Hurricane Camille, in the 1960’s.

Reilly was due on March 12^th but was born on St. Patrick’s Day, March 17^th.The pastor at our new church, Fr. Timothy O’Malley, was certain this new son of ours would be named Patrick. However, we had told Dan’s father Mike, and my Uncle John Reilly, that we were going to name our child, Michael Reilly, after the two grandfathers. Fr. O’Malley would have none of that, so he baptized our son, Michael Patrick Reilly Creed. We left that wonderful little spot of heaven on the Gulf of Mexico and returned to our home in Louisville when Dan’s 4-year enlistment was up. Dan was offered a job as a civilian employee of Kiessler Field as an instructor, but we would not even consider it.

When we came back to Louisville, we stayed with Dan’s parents and attended St. Bartholomew church until the house where Dan grew up in was available for us to move into. His parents had rented it and the lease would not be up for several months.

When we finally moved there, we attended St. Vincent DePaul parish, where Kathy attended 1^st grade. Two more of our children were born while we lived in that little house in a wonderful neighborhood. Dan’s Father used to say that we were the only Irish family in Schnitzel burg. The neighbors were wonderful and welcomed us with open arms.

We quickly outgrew our little two-bedroom home and moved way up there in the Highlands (a long distance in those days), to Curran Road. We bought the house from a family who were parishioners of St. Raphael Church. It was a wonderful neighborhood with many children on the block. Most of them attended St. Raphael School where we enrolled Kathy in the 2^nd grade. Our last two children were born while we were living in this house. It was a close-knit neighborhood and a wonderful place to call home.

After my aunt, who raised me, passed away and our last two children were born, my Uncle John had a serious heart attack came to live with us, so we quickly outgrew our little home. We loved our neighbors and our little close-knit neighborhood, but we needed space and began looking for a larger place to live.

By this time three of our children were attending St. Raphael School. Dan was a volunteer choir director and was serving on the parish council, when the new church was planned and built. The parish was growing by leaps and bounds.

When Uncle John came to live with us, we moved Kathy upstairs to the dormitory with the boys, but they were seriously cramped for space. We drove up and down every street in the parish trying to find a larger house. Finally, there was a house for sale on Winston Avenue but when we looked at it, there was not enough room. We began our search again until one day we passed the house that was for sale and saw two signs on the property. The lot next to the house and house were being sold separately. We bought the lot, and the rest is history.

We began building in November 1963. The big oak tree in the center of the lot was felled the day President Kennedy was assassinated. We moved into our new home in May of 1964. We did not have to change parishes; the children could attend the same school and even walk to school. We were so blessed to find this place. There was also a wonderful advantage, there was a large lot behind our house and a 2-acre woods right there on Gladstone Avenue. It was a little boy’s dream come true! We had five boys who took advantage of their newfound playground.

Uncle John loved watching our new home being built, something that he had never seen before. When St Raphael was going to celebrate the first Mass said in English after Vatican 11, Uncle John, who could barely walk without getting short of breath, made it to church for Mass. He said, he had seen the first airplane fly and certainly was not going to miss this Mass in English. Reilly was not quite so thrilled. He had trained to be an altar server while the Mass was in Latin and now, he would not be using the Prayers he had worked so hard to memorize.

Uncle John died of pneumonia the December after we moved in but not before he was able to enjoy his new room and the bookshelves on either side of the window that housed his many books. He loved that room, that today, I use as a den, and I love it too.

All five of our boys became altar servers at church and because we lived in walking distance, were called on all year long to serve funerals and weddings as well as their regular schedules for the week. They loved serving funerals because they were privileged to ride with the priest to the cemetery and got out of school to boot. Kathy belonged to the Sara Teen Club during High School.

My first involvement in the parish came as a required time of working in the cafeteria. If you were unable to fulfill your obligation days, you had the opportunity to pay someone to take your turn. Since I could not afford to pay, my neighbor friend and I took turns sitting for each other on our duty days. We both had 6 children, some in school and younger ones at home. Working there gave me an opportunity to meet other members of the parish, and it was also lots of fun seeing the kids in a different environment.

I was approached to work at the parish picnic. That was something I could do, especially when I found out that I would be chairperson of the Dishwashing Committee. There were no electric dishwashers, just two large tubs back in the hot kitchen. I had an awful time fulfilling that obligation. People did not want to work there. I did not know people in the larger parish so relied on friends to help fill in the gaps.

The next year, I had an idea that was accepted by the in-charge people. I went to the school office, got permission to talk to 8^th graders and made my pitch. Working would give them an opportunity to join the grown-ups in the kitchen and help them earn service hours for Confirmation. They bought the idea and it worked. They had to serve only 1 hour, and I could only use 6 at a time. This job was in the hot kitchen, no air conditioning and yet when the 1 hour was up, the kids did not want to stop. They were having a ball and so was I, enjoying their chatter and seeing teens enjoy doing the dishes. It was a permanent position for me until they bought a dishwasher and I moved on to Summer Bible School.

When Mike was in 2^nd grade, I began teaching Religion at St. Raphael School. Clara Jacob and I had homerooms during the teacher shortage but after three years we along with Betty Lawless, taught all the religion in the entire school. We were also in charge of Student Leadership, a program that not only trained 8^th graders for all the ministries in the church but began a Student Patrol program, and Youth after school Drop-ins for junior high students. That proved to be a team effort for about 15 years until Clara left to help her husband in his pharmacy business. After that I became coordinator of religious education for the parish/school and mentor for teachers getting required Religion Certification. Betty became assistant to the secretary of the school.

I really enjoyed that ministry because it included working with teachers who were preparing the children for the sacraments and working closely with the coordinator of children and families who attended public school. Together, we planned a monthly liturgy for public schoolchildren so they would have the same opportunity to learn about and participate in the ministries of the church along with those who attended the school.

St. Raphael became my home away from home. Just like back in my earlier days experiencing my church as another home, St. Raphael parish gave me a true sense of belonging. I still have that sense today, even though I am no longer physically able to be a Minister of Eucharist, or lector at Mass, St. Raphael offers so many other opportunities to be of service to the community. I passionately believe that to have the “at home” feeling, it is important to be involved. When you are involved, have input, and take responsibility for something, the Church becomes “your church” and so, “your home away from home.”

Little did I know all those many years ago, when I saw St. Raphael school/church being built, that I would end up belonging to that church community. It was interesting to watch the big church being built and now again, watching as my home away from home is getting a facelift and celebrating its 75 Anniversary. Now that I am growing old, I realize That I still have a calling, helping younger folks feel at home and welcome them to get involved, too! “God is good and the Spirit is a ‘moving.”