I GOT a lot of great responses to my column several weeks ago about how many conveniences were within walking distance of my house while I was growing up in Farrell.

The letters, phone calls and e-mails didn’t all come from Farrell folks, but from residents like Joe Hilko of Patagonia. Of course, many Farrell residents commented, remembering the great days when the city flourished. I had intended to share some of the e-mails in this column, but the hard drive crashed on my computer at home, wiping out the nostalgic messages.

One of the gratifying phone calls came from my old neighbor, Johnny Gallicchio, who lived across the street from my grandfather on Emerson Avenue. Gone are many of the houses as I recall them from the 1950s through the 1970s, but Johnny still lives in the narrow, two-story house that were the fashion throughout the city. He said he didn’t know if I remembered him, and of course I did, although I haven’t talked to him for more than 30 years. Like so many of the other neighbors, I remember Johnny and Al Salatino and his family, who lived in the house with him. Al was one of

my dad’s drinking buddies at the New Deal Club, a half a block away on French Street. We talked about the good old days, when lush gardens and a myriad of fruit trees graced the manicured yards on both sides of the street. In particular, we reminisced about my grandfather’s neighbor, Angelo Donatelli. Angelo and my grandfather would have a

spirited (and sometimes heated) competition every summer about whom had the best garden and fruit trees.

My grandfather’s yard (the part not taken up by a huge garden) was only about 15 feet by 15 feet. But within that little wedge were prune, pear, peach and cherry trees and another that produced a variety of fruit because of the grafting of limbs from one fruit tree to the trunk of another.

The letter I got from Joe, a frequent contributor to The Herald’s editorial pages, recalled his days of visiting Farrell. It stated in part: “I read yo ur editorial in today’s Herald and can only tell you that it brought tears to my eyes when you spoke of many of the places I frequented while growing up and in the early 70s and late 60s. Many more were not named and I’m sure you can rattle them off like my buddy Lou at Razzcal’s. “I lived in Patagonia all of my life and

spent much time in downtown Sharon and a lot of my summers at my maternal grandparents in the 1000 block of Federal Street. Farrell was a unique place and more friendly than Sharon and Hickory was too spread out when I was young ... “What a sad spot in my heart to think about more simpler times. My grandfather had a few tipsy walks home from Borawski’s on Roemer ...”

A great trip to Tobacco Road I was part of a classic road trip recently when Gary and Mary Ann Douglas of Sharon

and my wife, daughter and I traveled to Charlotte, N.C. for a few days. Gary and my wife, Janice, are cousins, so we’re all one big family. We got to spend time with Gary and Mary Ann’s kids, Gary, Kristen and Carlee, and her fiancé