St. Francis of Assisi Parish was established by Archbishop Duke on September 20, 1936. The first Masses were celebrated in the small chapel of the Franciscan Monastery. The church was built under the direction of the founding pastor, Father Boniface Heidmeier, a Franciscan, and dedicated on July 3, 1938.
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Fr. Boniface 1927
Our founding pastor, Fr. Boniface Heidmeier O.F.M., was a Franciscan priest sent by his Superior to Vancouver in 1927 to start a monastery and bring the Franciscan mission here. Out of the life of the Franciscan monastery grew the parish and school. Fr. Boniface has documented, with ample humour, the humble beginnings of St. Francis of Assisi Parish. Here, in his own words, is the story of how this all came to be.
Fr. Boniface is sent to Vancouver
The monastery [in Edmonton where he was living] was silent as a tomb. On my table lay a large, fat, officious looking letter from Montreal, the office of our Provincial Superior. My heart beat fast, and hastily I examined my conscience to see if perchance something had been bungled up by me that might call for an official though paternal animadversion [critical comment] from that quarter. I could find nothing very serious; and yet, I was excited to a shaking point. What could that letter contain? The simplest way to find out was to open it and see. And see I did! It was a lengthy Latin document with a few lines filled in by hand, and started by telling me what a good fellow I was. The Provincial Council had decided to send me to Vancouver as superior of the Monastery there! Well, now, this was a real surprise, and frankly, it was not a very agreeable one… I felt what any old tree should feel, that this uprooting and transplanting of my life’s activity would not be an easy matter for me!
How the Franciscans got permission to set up a monastery, not yet a parish, in Vancouver.
As far as I can remember, and I think I remember correctly, the foundation of the monastery in Vancouver owes its existence at least in part, if not entirely, to the love and interest shown by our young Canadian Franciscan Province for the missionary work in China and Japan… From Montreal to Japan is a long way to travel, and thus a resting place before embarking on the ships for the East was very desirable, and Vancouver was the logical location. At first verbal, then written exchanges of views were made and… in 1923 the late Archbishop Casey opened the gates of the city to the sons of St. Francis for a foundation… giving “the Superiors of the Franciscan Order the power to open within the Metropolitan city of Vancouver a Regular House, without a parish; to exercise therein the sacred ministry, helping by their work the Japanese school”. Six months after the Archbishop had given his written permission for the Franciscans to enter Vancouver, Father Martin OFM left his missionary fields in Alberta for the coast, arriving in Vancouver on the 24th of February, 1924. He had successfully negotiated, with the permission of the Archbishop, the purchase of the Miller estate, 1020 Semlin Drive, as a definite location of the Franciscan Monastery in Vancouver.
From house to monastery
The Miller estate was-let me say- a palatial looking edifice, good enough for any twentieth Lord of Knobblesticks! In fact, when I first saw it in 1926-and that was in winter- it seemed to me to be so grandiose that I almost made the sign of the cross over my eyes, lest it might be an illusion of the evil one. But there it stood plainly written on a wooden signboard: “Franciscan Monastery, 1020 Semlin Drive”. No illusion possible, unless the signboard was an illusion too! Grandiose as looked the Franciscan Monastery from the outside, the inside offered great opportunities for vast and necessary work of improvement. Old divisions have to be pulled down, new ones must be put up: doors have to be changed from one place to another; new windows must be set in; and that means great expense and lots of work.
The ‘first cut’ of what would become the lawn.
Whilst the work inside the monastery was going on, remodelling it according to the needs of the Friars, attention was also given to the surrounding property. The most exasperating task was “clearing that part the long grass”. It could not be cut with a “mower”, not with brand new shears, but had to be cut with a scythe. There was an old rusty, twisted scythe hanging beneath the verandah, the handles of which were loosely attached. At the lower end of the handle was wobbling piece of iron with three holes intended for the regulating of the blade. In those days I had a fairly good strength of body in general, a mighty good grip of hands, and a rather determined will to do! I needed the combination of all these ingredients for the task before me. With the first stroke the scythe just skimmed the dust off the grass; the second swing made the nose of the scythe dive about a foot deep into the ground, dislocating every joint in the handle. When I jerked it out of the ground, the scythe dangled helplessly, like a broken foot, at the end of the handle. I repaired the damage, and after a few more attempts, discovered that the only way to make headway was to push the scythe gently beneath the long, flat lying grass and work it as a saw! I was bathed in perspiration and the palms of my hands were a mass of blisters! But the job had to be done; and in two days the garden looked like a clipped dog!
Thieves and dogs
Now that the monastery was remodelled, as far as possible, for the needs of the Friars, and the entire garden enclosed with a six-foot fence, and having a variety of fruit trees, ornamental shrubs, and flowers beds and also a half decent lawn (embellished with millions of self-propagating dandelions )- it was thought that now all this could be enjoyed without hindrance, after so much toil and sweat. However,
the few carrots, peas, beans and raspberries, currants and chokecherries disappeared as by magic. After I preached a mission in North Vancouver where my old friend Msgr. J.B. McDonald was a parish priest we talked about the infestation of our garden by petty thieves, and the bother it caused. He raised his bushy eyebrows and said, “A good watch dog is worth half-a-dozen men; in fact nothing can take the place of a watch dog when it comes to protecting a home and garden.” That remedy, so simple and effective, appealed to me at once. Thenceforth various types of dogs passed in rapid succession through the monastery garden, showing how difficult is the apparently easy matter of getting a real watch dog. Eventually, early in the morning one day, a truck drew up on Napier St. On that truck was a large case of solid structure with heavy wire fence around it, and in that case stood a Great Dane, like a calf. I thought a circus was coming our way. It was our new dog, and he certainly looked business-like. The case was lowered from the truck and hauled into the monastery garden. Fear and apprehension seized most of us. Very cautiously and with funny sorts of smiles of friendliness on our faces, we opened the cage-and out roared the lion! Since that day we have had no trouble with thieves. Monarch II is the ruler of our domain day and night. He will stand no stranger in the place; nor will anyone take a chance on entering the garden unaccompanied by one of us [the monks]. His size and bark are a mighty deterrent for any prowler.
The desire for a Franciscan parish, not just the monastery
The first move for a Franciscan Parish in Vancouver was made June 14, 1930 by a number of ladies and gentlemen living in the Grandview district around our Monastery. A self-appointed committee reported a visit with the Archbishop, petitioning him that a parish might be erected in the Grandview district, with the Franciscan Monastery as the centre. Over two hundred persons had the signed the petition. Within a few years negotiations were entered into between His Excellency Archbishop Duke [Archbishop of Vancouver], the Very Reverend George Albert, O.F.M. [Provincial of the Franciscans], and the Congregation in Rome [Vatican], with regard to the Franciscan Order taking a parish in the city of Vancouver. The honour and burden of founding that parish and be its first pastor fell into my lap in September 1936. Within a year after the foundation of the Parish most of the usual Societies and Clubs of the district had been organized and, as far as humanly possible, were running smoothly. We had a very small chapel, but I venture to say, that not even St. Peter’s in Rome was ever the centre of so much attention as was this little chapel. For one year the parishioners had crowded into the small Monastery chapel for the three Masses on Sunday; but this could not keep on for any length of time. A Church had to be built.
Where to build the new church?
An important item was “where to build the church?” Some, agreeing with the Very Rev. Fr. Ambrose, provincial at the time, proposed that it should be erected at the corner of Semlin Drive and Parker Street. Others joining the plan of Rev. Father Celestine, commissary Provincial, thought to place it in the middle of the garden, and this embellish the “House of God” with landscaped grounds. That was indeed a very pious, God-loving idea; but would have deprived the monastery of all “outdoor life.” Personally, I was in favour of building the church to the east of the monastery and connected to it, provided the adjacent property could be procured. This plan was finally approved, and on April the 24th, [we contacted] Mr. Wilson, owner of the property and house, to see if he would sell. He would for $4,500.00 on terms, or $4,250.00 for cash. The gentlemen put down $100.00 option, good till May 27th. This was communicated to the authorities in Montreal, and on May the 14th, a telegram from the Provincial authorized me to buy the said property.
Plans and Building
On September 20th, 1936, a document from His Excellency Archbishop Duke erected our St. Francis parish, and there and then began the realization of a long-cherished desire. I had a plan on hand, drawn by Brother Leonard, O.F.M. of New York, in 1928. It was put aside as too elaborate and costly. But in 1937, I asked Mr. George Aspell, known in his time as the ‘best draftsman in B.C.”. I submitted to him a “sketch” of a plan and asked him to work on that. He did; and by the 10th of February 1938, he had the plans and specifications ready. Montreal [the Franciscan Provincial] approved the plans, and the “Tenders” or submissions for the building of the church were called for February the 18th. Six tenders came in and Montreal accepted S.J. Grant’s bid and on February 28th, work began. Things moved fast. I blessed the cornerstone made and donated by Mr. Towell, a parishioner. Sealed in the cornerstone is a document containing the names of the Bishop, the People, the King, and the Provincial.
Consecration and blessing of the new church building.
July the third, 1938, was a most glorious day, bright, hot and busy; the day of the blessings and opening of our St. Francis Church. The 7 and 8 o’clock Masses were still said in the small house chapel, but the High Mass was celebrated at 10 am in the new church. The blessing of the church was performed by the Very Rev. Father George Albert, OFM, provincial superior. It was not by any means an easy task, walking round the building over stones and lumber not yet cleared away; but with good will and joyful heart it was accomplished with as much dignity as possible. The blessing was followed by a solemn high Mass with the church filled to capacity. My voice was at times rather shaky as I tried to express my joy to see the Franciscans finally established solidly after long years of discouraging trials. I had been sent to Vancouver in 1927 as a last attempt to save our Foundation here, which, according to the parting words addressed to me by the Provincial, “could not live.” “We send you to Vancouver, Father Boniface, as a strong, active man: we are afraid you will come back as a ‘broken man’,” were the exact words. Well, I never felt happier or stronger. It was the reward of much “sweat, blood and tears”.
The costs of setting up the new church building.
The church was ready for use, but still far from being finished. The interior was bare except for the Altar which had been transferred from the house chapel, a small statue of the Sacred Heart and St. Anthony on rickety pedestals where the future side-altars were to be, and forty edge-fir pews. To build a church is like buying an automobile. You pay for an auto the “marked price”, and all you get is the motor, four wheels, the chassis and the body; but then come the “extras”. The building of St. Francis Church ran the same pattern, and the “extras’ really got my goat (figuratively speaking) as the “bills” came in. Although the original cost was $22,640., the “extras” sent it up to $30,806.70. Everybody had “extras” to add: the electricians, tinsmiths, painters, bricklayers, plasterers, and the biggest of them all, “the heating system”. There were “extras” for moving the fence, raising the church, moving windows or doors, changing stairs for fire-escapes, posts and sills for gates, cement steps in front of the church; altogether 56 extras which did not even concern the furnishing of the interior. It took more than two years before the interior was complete with pews, altars, statues, communion rails, and so forth. The lovely pipe organ was installed in 1942; the artistic pulpit of fumed oak was added in 1953 in memory of my Golden Jubilees in the Franciscan order. It would take too much time to mention all the benefactors who contributed to the church. Suffice it to say that their generosity was so great to enable to pay every bill from start to finish.
Fr. Boniface walks around the exterior parish boundaries on a wet day in 1936.
Monday, September 21st, was a lovely day for ducks and fishes. It had rained all night and kept on intermittently all day, too. But rain does not, or should not, stop Vancouverites from going for a walk, for shopping or even going to work in fall or winter; otherwise, they would never go out during those seasons. In fact, we like rain. Anyway, it was a rainy day and I started to inspect our St. Francis Parish, officially erected yesterday. Coming from downtown, I got off the street car at Hastings St. and Templeton Drive, at the northern and eastern limits of the parish. My intention was to walk around the entire parish [boundaries]. The corner of Hastings and Templeton was an empty lot, should say a “hole” which a growth of willow bushes was trying to hide. I walked up the gentle hill southward to First Avenue, then along First Avenue westward to Commercial Drive. A considerable number of stores line the bumpy Drive on either side. Street cars and the Interurban have disappeared and the entire Drive is now well paved. Returning to Hastings, back to Templeton, I had made the entire tour round the parish in just a little more than one hour!
Going door to door looking for Catholics to attend the new parish.
Having walked round the outside of the parish, I started to examine the inside by a house-to-house visit. This was a tedious task; but by the end of 1936, I had found 91 families within the limits of the parish. I called on hundreds of homes and, with one or two exceptions, was always accorded a courteous if not warm welcome, even by the non-Catholics. Every visit I have made during the twenty years as parish priest has been marked down and the total runs into thousands. Actually, the parish counts around 500 families of many nationalities, and it is my heartfelt joy (and burden too!) that I am able to help most parishioners in their native tongue, specially in the confessional. There is a very strong and fine group of Italians, a big third of the families, mostly immigrants during the last few years and excellent Catholics. But, as all over the city, it is a floating population. There were some comic experiences during my parish visits. Some families had not seen a priest for sixteen years either because they did not go to church, or no priest called on them. Some were so surprised at seeing a priest that they shut the door as if they had seen a ghost; but I stayed until the door opened. With all humility I can say that visiting the Parish has been my strong point in developing the Parish.
Parish activities and the basement
St. Francis Parish hall has a history, and a very interesting history at that. When the plans for the church were made a hall was positively excluded by the [Franciscan] authorities in Montreal. But, when the actual building was started a basement of some sort became necessary on account of the slope of the terrain. There was no intention of a hall; only small rooms, such as washrooms or committee rooms. Two rows of Douglas fir pillars, ten in all, 10 x 10 inches, ran the entire basement to support the floor above. Windows were put in for ventilation. Orders were orders; and thus the basement was looked upon as “lovely!” But the parish activities demanded a hall. In the basement of the monastery was a large billiard room about 30 x 25 feet. It was sacrificed for a “Parish Hall”. To get into this vast room from the outside without passing through the monastery (unlawful especially for women), a door was made on the west side. Our old-timers will recall the crowded card parties and shows we used to have in that primitive hall. They were happy times. For our bigger affairs, bazaars and concerts, we had recourse to Templeton Junior High School [and other nearby] auditoriums. Various efforts were made to provide a becoming hall for our parish but it took seventeen years to solve that problem.
Efforts to fix up the basement to become more of a parish hall.
In 1939, St. Patrick’s Day fell as usual on the 17th of March, and we felt that an obligation to put on a concert. There was talent aplenty in the parish for a performance that would do St. Patrick and all the Irish a really great honour. The place chosen for this enterprise was the basement beneath our church. Consequently it had to be fixed up. A thin cement floor already covered the space; but it was necessary to cover it with wooden floor on account of the humidity. Mr. Jim Grant, who built the church, had an estimate for the lumber - $60.00 – and the work began. A stage, too, was set up, and we had our first St. Patrick Concert. It was so good and so well patronized that it brought in the fabulous sum of $46.75! Now, that unexpected financial success went straight to our heads and we decided to finish the rest of the basement though it meant spending $103.00! I got a number of boys together and set to work, and in less than no time the hardwood floor was nailed down; perhaps I should use the technical term and say: was laid down; but we nailed it. When the stage had been completed, Sister Philippa, superior of St. Pauls’ Hospital, sent a professional scenery painter to decorate the stage. These murals were seen until 1953, when the entire basement was pulled to pieces for a new arrangement.
The conversion of the church basement into a parish hall.
The necessity of having a bigger hall became evident and I looked for a suitable location. The most convenient and least expensive would have been on the ground behind the Convent; but this was ruled out by the city. A lovely place could have been at the south-west corner of Napier and Victoria Drive, but this too was disallowed. Thus my thoughts were turned to the only available location; the basement of our church. After lengthy discussion, authority was given to go ahead with this truly Herculean task of transforming the basement into an up-to-date hall. There were enormous difficulties to be overcome, especially with the excavation and the placing of the steel beams forty feet long. The only way to expedite matters was to use a bulldozer for the excavating, but how? There was only one window and one door through which not even a wheelbarrow could pass. An opening, 10 x 12 feet, was made through the back wall to the lane. That opening serves now as the principal exit from the hall. Then there was the other, apparently still greater difficulty, of getting the steel beams into the hall. [Eventually the engineers decided to use] two 20-feet lengths welded together. Once these two major difficulties had been overcome, the work went ahead full steam and we opened the hall on September 27th, 1953.
The search for property suitable for a parish school.
Important as a “Parish Hall” may be, a “Parish School” pushes that importance way back to the rear. We may say that a parish without its school is a lifeless organism. As soon as St. Francis parish was established, my mind was bent on getting a “Parish School”, however, humble or expensive it might be. In prevision of getting a parish school, I had bought in 1940 Lots 20 and 21, Block 19, on Parker Street. That location would have been wonderful for our school, so close to the monastery and the church. The “famous zoning regulations” would not allow such a building to be put up, unless the majority of the property owners in Block 19 had no objection. Mr. H. H. Hyde interviewed said persons and obtained in writing that the greater majority “Had No Objection”. A duly composed “petition for permission to build the school on Parker Street” was sent and I was informed by that wise and powerful Board of Appeal to be present to hear the decision. I went and found to my great surprise that the same property owners had sent in their “veto”. Said the Vancouver Province, June 29, 1944: “The Board was puzzled by two petitions, one for, the other against the establishment of a St. Francis parish school in the block. Property owners who signed for the proposed development also signed against its support. Action was deferred to July 20. Father Boniface appealed for authority to proceed with the proposed $10,000 school, 60 x 40 feet, containing four classrooms.” Well I did not wait till July 20th to look elsewhere; for the outcome of the appeal could plainly be seen.
The continued search for property suitable for a parish school.
I kept on looking for a site for the school in spite of all. A large, three storey house, corner of Napier Street and Victoria Drive was for sale for $10,000; but architects were against this. There was an empty property on the south-west corner of Napier and Victoria Drive; but the “famous Zoning Board” told me “Nothing doing”. Our parish boundaries had been extended, and thus I had to cope with the building of a larger school. There was indeed a lovely piece of ground at Venables and Victoria Drive; but whose was it? I stuck a medal of St. Joseph into that property, and asked our architects to draw plans for a much larger school to be built wherever God wanted it! Meanwhile I found out that the property belonged to the Imperial Oil Company which fact was not very encouraging. I had the pleasure of knowing Mr. Henry Betait, a Protestant, whose Catholic wife I had taken care of during her long illness. He was one of the “big shots” in the Imperial Oil Company. Henry was most gracious and promised to do what he could. Next to this property was a lot belonging to the city; this one was procured September the 8th, 1945. These four lots gave us enough land for our school. It was like a miracle of St. Joseph!
The groundbreaking for the new school.
According to all wise men (and there were plenty of them including men and women of our parish) it was nothing short of foolhardiness on my part to think of building anything during the war. Lumbermen were on strike; everything was rationed on account of the war: lumber, sheet metal, nails, furnaces, all electric appliances could be obtained only with discouraging difficulties. But, if God wanted a school for the children of the district, He would provide the ways and means. And he did. July the 2nd was a gloomy, rainy day in Vancouver; but a glorious day in the annals of St. Francis Parish. Whatever might be the difficulties that would have to be faced, the work on the school was begun. Mr. Sullivan the contractor, and myself, armed with a long-handled shovel, betook ourselves to the “grounds” and at 10 am, I “turned the first sod”; Mr. Sullivan, too, dug the shovel into the ground as if to second my attempt. There no public ceremony; no “higher-ups” attended; no announcement had been made; no speeches were heard, except the “Our Father and Hail Mary” recited by two lone persons trying to get the rusty shovel into the hard, grass-grown ground. We lingered a while on the grounds thinking of the next step – the excavation!
The timely excavation work and cement pouring for the new school.
On the 15th of July the men arrived with the bulldozer and were greeted by a large crowd of curious spectators, for no one knew what sort of building was going up, just across from the United Church. Some thought it would be a home” for disabled soldiers” – others, it would be an orphanage, or an apartment house. The bulldozers set to work, early in the morning till late in the evening; they growled and snorted, digging into the ground and casting the earth to either dies like raging lions. They kept on growling and snorting in spite of complaints from not too friendly neighbours, till the excavation was done! Then the cement foundations were poured, and on them rose speedily St. Francis School. On August the 12th, the men finished pouring cement and almost sang “Holy God, We Praise Thy Name”: for on that very day the government “froze all cement” for the duration [of the war]! More trouble was the lumber, especially “the 30-foot long joists” 3 inches by 12 inches (the horizontal pieces on which the rests the floor and the ceilings). There was only one saw-mill able to cut such long heavy lumber, the Rat Portage Co. on False Creek. I went to the owner; explained our predicament, and was promised the lumber. Mr. Sullivan, the contractor, was sure that there would be no more trouble. He was mistaken, and greatly mistaken!
The search for nails to build with during the war.
On September the 10th, the carpenters ran out of mails, and nails could not be bought for their weight in gold [due to war rations]! For 15 years it had been my policy, never to put away a piece of wood unless all nails were pulled out of it. By 1946 I had thus amassed three kegs of rusty, crippled nails in the monastery. When Sullivan heard of these nails he rejoiced as if three kegs of platinum had been discovered! On Sunday, September 22nd, I made an appeal in the church for “nails,” any sort of nails, anything from a shoe tack to a ten-inch spike. The response was wonderful, and what a wealth we had acquired! Two men were detailed to “straighten out” the nails whilst others, including myself, hammered them into the boards. Now, these old, old nails, crooked as they had been or still were, put the new ones of that year into shame! They were old-fashioned but went into the wood without bending either to the right of the left; whilst the new ones couldn’t stand a knock. It was the old and new generation in nails! But, more nails were needed, and since there were no nails to be had in the city stores, I scoured the country stores. I struck a “gold mine” in Ladner and bought every nail in that store irrespective of size or price. White Rock, Cloverdale, Abbotsford and New Westminster contributed their share and thus the carpenters were able to go on with the building.
The school fence and growth
On account of trouble with some of the neighbours close to the school, something had to be done to prevent the children, when playing baseball on the grounds, from breaking windows or causing other damage. It was decided to enclose the grounds with a 10 foot wire fence, resting on a cement foundation. But, “being a free country”, you cannot put up a fence when are where you like. The City Inspector had to come along and tell us just what was allowed. An “Appeal” had to made to the “Board of Appeal” to allow us to do what we wished to do, and what was evidently a simple necessity. Permission was granted April 29th, 1954. The grounds were duly provided with a drainage system, then black-topped and the fence went up, costing, instead of $2,400 close to $8,000. But it is a fine work and adds to the beauty of the school. We started the school with 72 children; but the enrollment increased year by year, so that at present there is an average of 260 pupils. And I was told “that there was no NEED of a school in this parish”!
Nothing is wasted
In conclusion I offer this advice: No one, especially a priest intending to do missionary work, can ever learn too much. It may seem to young aspirants, that it is useless to learn this or that; but later on, it will be found that everything is worth knowing. Thus, in the Novitiate in France, I learned how to run a sewing machine, make sandals and cords, use a straight razor and play the harmonium. Some of these things I found irksome, even nonsensical. But how thankful have I been, many and many a time to that exacting novice master when Preaching missions. In what plight s I would have been on my trips had I not known how to use a needle or fix my sandals. Through sheer necessity I have learned to handle a hammer and saw, paintbrushes, shovels and spades
In Conclusion
As I look back over that long, though seemingly very short period of time which it has been my privilege to spend as a Franciscan Missionary, deep gratitude fills my heart to brim. My vocation to the Priesthood is without gainsay, the most glorious as well as the most unmerited grace I have received from Almighty God. And-hand on my heart-I can truly say that no day has passed on which I did not thank God for this singular privilege of being a Priest-a Priest in the Franciscan Order-a missionary Priest in Western Canada.
My humble, earnest petition is for a remembrance in Prayer by all who have been helped by [me]. I hope that the parishioners of St. Francis’ in Vancouver, on whom I have spent-God knows-so much love, worry, time and money will not be oblivious of me when speaking to God in prayer. I have spent the better part of my life as their parish priest trying to bring them closer to Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament.
What ever good I may have done, will, I am afraid, not cancel altogether my wrongs. Yet I trust that when the time of my solution comes, I shall be able to say like the great St. Paul-though with less confidence- “I have fought a good fight; I have finished my course; I have kept the Faith; and that the crown of justice shall be given to me by the merciful Lord, the Just Judge.”
Fr Cuthburt - 1963
Vancouver Sun reporter Moira Farrow wrote in 1963:
“Father Cuthbert Seward, 50, rector of St Francis church, was shot and killed as he opened the door of the adjacent monastery Friday night. Two hours after the shooting, police arrested a 29-year-old unemployed mechanic in his apartment six blocks away from the monastery. Police said the man has a history of mental illnesses and is believed to have threatened several times to shoot a priest . . . Two children playing a game of tag outside the monastery said they saw a man drive up to the door about 7 pm. They told police they saw the man leave the engine running and walk calmly up to the door carrying a rifle over his shoulder. A moment later they heard a shot then saw the man walk back to his car.”
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