Fifty years after its heyday, the landmarks that had made the avenue great were in tatters, and the century-old three-story brick row houses were crumbling. The street the neighbors had come to know was peppered with cheap new development constructed by unions that rarely employed the people who lived there.

In this, the avenue’s latest incarnation, the thoroughfare that had played host to the history of North Philly played host to its future.

Even now, at one in the morning during the work week, Coletti and Mann could see that the avenue was alive. Echoes of jazz floated down from a college radio station. A television played highlights from the Phillies-Pirates game. The sound of a woman’s laughter could be heard through an open window.

The history of the avenue was alive not only in its people but in every building, including the church where the pickup was parked. Car 2310 was directly behind the stolen vehicle, and a police tow truck was across the street.

When the detectives got out of the car and walked over to the pickup, Mann pulled out a flashlight and shone the light through the vehicle’s window. He didn’t see anything unusual. In fact, the inside of the pickup looked immaculate.

Coletti walked around to the back of the truck and shone his own flashlight as he looked in the bed. There was a used needle and a thin, grimy rubber hose near the front end of the bed.

“Mann, take a look at this,” he said, walking around the side of the vehicle to get a closer look.

Mann stood beside him and shone his own light along with Coletti’s.

“So where do you think the dope fiend went?” Coletti asked.

Mann glanced at the church. Coletti nodded. Then he told the patrol officer in car 2310 to stay with the pickup and call for backup. As the officer did so, the detectives unholstered their guns and walked toward the front of the church.

They climbed the steps and Mann tried the handle of the eight-foot-tall, solid oak door. It was locked, and the stone on either side was a foot thick. Coletti nodded toward Sixteenth Street.

As the two men circled around the dark side of the church, they both took out their flashlights and held them out in front of them along with their guns.

The red door on the side of the church was far smaller than the one in the front, and when Coletti tried the handle, it was open.

He and Mann made their way inside with their flashlights and guns at the ready, and as they crossed the basement fellowship hall and climbed the steps to the sanctuary, Coletti felt the same sensation he’d experienced in his dreams.