 He and my dad would drive us all downtown. We'd stand outside 1119 Bayard. I always found those trips disappointing. We'd take a picture, hang around there on the sidewalk. It's not a store anymore. It's just somebody's house. It doesn't look like anything. A row house in a block of row houses. Some what a few years ago, somebody painted a cheerful Christian mural on one side of the building. The quote from the book of Mark.