BOSTON -- Peter Baldassari was running an errand in the North End when he thought, "Gee, this would make a beautiful place for the saints."

The North End native was standing in a skinny alley off Battery Street, framed by brick walls and fire escapes. He envisioned a slice of heaven. Over the next four decades, he used his lifelong interest in collecting images of saints to turn the alley into All Saints Way, a Technicolor shrine that has been called a hall of fame for holy men and women. The locals didn't mind Baldassari making their street into a holy site. After all, he delivered their newspapers as a boy.

All Saints Way became an icon of the neighborhood whose Catholic faith he embodied. It attracted attention from the secular press and pilgrims from around the world, whom Baldassari delighted in guiding on tours.

He was a walking martyrology -- visitors only had to point at one of the hundreds of paintings, statues, icons, and prayer cards that lined the walls, and Baldassari would rattle off facts about their life, death, and patronage.

In 2024, Baldassari suffered a stroke, and All Saints Way fell into disrepair. Gary Rizzuto, a house painter who did much of his work in the North End, was tasked with cleanup. It wasn't his first encounter with All Saints Way.

"The first time I saw it, I thought it was a special place," he said.

He and Baldassari would talk as the latter painted statues and made collages of saints in his basement. All Saints Way was Rizzuto's daughter's favorite place to visit as a girl. Now, the place was in such bad shape that Rizzuto was ready to dismantle it -- until he saw people on their knees praying in front of the gates. Hundreds of people visited the alley in the following days, some coming daily and others seeing it for the first time. He met a man from India who came to Boston three times a year and made sure to "spend some quiet time with the saints" whenever he did. The encounter moved Rizzuto to tears. On May 9, 2025, two weeks after Rizzuto finished cleaning, Baldassari passed away at the age of 81.

"He was a great North Ender, very typical Italian American," Rizzuto recalled. "He was devoted to the saints. And he could be a bit of a curmudgeon at times, I might say, and I say that with love."

Cleaning up All Saints Way was Rizzuto's job. Now it was his calling. He told the owner of the property that Baldassari's legacy had to be preserved. She asked him if he knew what he was doing.

"I absolutely don't know," he told her, "but we'll make it work somehow."

On Nov. 6, things seemed to be working. Holy portraits, statues encased in glass, angelic tchotchkes, crucifixes, and newspaper clippings stretched three stories up the walls, along with quotations from saints and slogans like "Real men love Jesus." For years, the entrance was marked by an "old Italian saying: Mock all and sundry things, but leave the saints alone." Baldassari's handmade collages were meticulously labeled and organized by categories, such as the saint's name and location of martyrdom.

"He has them set up like baseball cards," Rizzuto said, holding a collage labeled "Incorruptible."

Rizzuto can't even count the number of saints in Baldassari's collection. There are even more statues in the basement, filling shelves and closets, and a sign reading "Please respect this sacred space. God is watching." Some of the plaques have withstood heat, rain, wind, and blizzards, never leaving the wall since Baldassari first hung them there. The shrine shows its age in some places. It isn't perfect, but that's exactly how Rizzuto likes it.

"The handmade touch, you can't replace," he said.

Rizzuto ended up removing four dump trucks' worth of trash from All Saints Way, including statues that were beyond repair. The concrete floor was fixed and painted red. The heavy black wooden gates that once protected the way were replaced with wrought-iron ones donated by North End restaurateur Frank Depasquale. That way, visitors could see All Saints Way even if it was locked.

Rizzuto has commissioned artists to restore some of the statues. He plans to add displays focusing on new saints, including the recently canonized Sts. Pier Giorgio Frassati and Carlo Acutis. His personal favorite saint is St. Therese of Lisieux, who has a place of honor in the alley, because she's "the exact opposite" of him.

"I'm loud," he said. "I'm boisterous. I'm the center of attention. I do things in a big way, and sometimes I fall flat on my face and make a fool out of myself. And I've always admired the quiet people who don't say much, but when they say something, it's profound."

Sean Gaffney, one of the "foot soldiers" who has volunteered to help restore All Saints Way, delivered fresh bouquets of roses. He laid them on a table that had a vase full of wilted roses on it, flanked by two faded statues of Mary. His work was interrupted by a honking horn -- he had to move his car.

"He's been an amazing blessing of this community, bringing a lot of awareness here, and God put it in my soul to help and assist through Gary because of his passion and his love for the saints," Gaffney said.

When he enters All Saints Way, he sees "a bunch of love."

He moved to the North End six months ago and discovered All Saints Way through a video Rizzuto posted online. Such posts are part of Rizzuto's plan to raise awareness of Baldassari's work.

"The man who made this did it for no recognition," he said. "He wasn't posting it. He was just doing it out of devotion for the saints."

Most of the donations given to All Saints Way go to Rizzuto's other mission -- providing food, hand warmers, and clothing to homeless people in Boston with his fellow volunteers. He said that there is "a spiritual revival in the North End" thanks to young people like Gaffney volunteering. He sees a similar revival in himself.

"This is not the person I was six months ago," he said. "I was a little bit more selfish. I was never a bad person, but I didn't have it in my heart the way I do right now to help people who've been broken. I've been broken myself."

He said when he sees people in need, he thinks, "We're just one choice, one moment away from being there."

If he's ever in that position, he hopes he'll meet someone like Gaffney.

"When they go out at night to some of the most dangerous, desperate parts of the city, to bring hand warmers and to bring food, they don't just feed them, they also feed them faith," he said. "They give them hope, and they give them prayer."

In a neighborhood where saints are as plentiful as alleys, All Saints Way still gets people to stop and stare.

"Come on in!" Rizzuto exclaimed to a group of young adults admiring the alley. He offered each of them a rose and a miraculous medal blessed by Father Michael Della Penna, pastor of St. Leonard of Port Maurice Parish.

"People see it, and they're in awe when they actually come," Rizzuto said. "And then they look up at the wall and at the saints, and through faith and prayer, people come here. They just reflect. It's this place in the middle of the city where you can find a little peace and quiet."

When he's there, however, he's anything but calm.

"I'm energized at the life and transformation I felt in myself," he said.