A major part of my trip was, of course, to have a bit of dear Frank safely back, always and forever, at the place where he grew up. And here it is, just as it always (or at least, since 1902) was.
15 S. Rosborough as it was in c. 1940:
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...and as it is now:
Some of the family out front; Frank second from right, c. 1943:
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As I approached the house, a woman came out to move her car. I greeted her, we chatted, and she said name was Sally Mahoney--hey, a good match for Byrne Molloy. Sally was visiting her son, who owns the house. Happily, we were invited in and we toured the place. The only picture I took inside was of those stained glass windows on the landing that I remember so well: 
I did, of course, sprinkle just a few of Frankie's ashes on the front flower bed; the lawn is long gone.
Anyway, it was a good thing to have part of Frank back where he always belonged.
Note: See the following entry for the rest of Friday, September 27.
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