As productive as my trip to Charleston was, I am still kicking myself
for not getting out a little more while I was there.  That is, out away
From researching.  This was due in part to the fact that, being a social
creature, I was hoping for fellow wanderers to go along.  The gang that
showed up for the reunion, however, were fellow hardcore researchers. 
Most had "been there, done that" in the sightseeing department in past
visits to Charleston.

But here is a lesson I learned the hard way.  Before the trip, I had
posted some queries about locating my ancestors' exact places of living
and business.  I had gotten some promising leads from the Charleston
City Directories which gave the street addresses for several of my
surnames, including my 6X grandfather, PETER DUBOIS, who was listed one
year as living at 22 St. Philips, and another year at 28 St. Philips. I
posted queries to a couple of lists to see if anyone knew if houses
still existed on this location, and also to find out why he might have
moved a couple of doors away.  I learned that as new houses were built,
other buildings continually were renumbered, so the references I had for
c. 1801 and 1802 may not have been what they are today.  And the
addresses were probably the same place.

I spent hours on the net and at the SC Historical Society trying to
determine EXACTLY where this house was/is.  I compared census records
for various years.  I questioned one of my research gurus, Peter
Wilkerson of the Historical Society.  On and on.  I also did a Map Quest
printout to pinpoint the address today.

Well, the evening of our reunion's genealogy swap meet and greet, I had
the need to go to Kinko's to copy a rather large map.  The address for
Kinko's was St. Philips Street.  Finally, I would have the chance to
look for PETER DUBOIS' house.

In the 30 minutes it took us to find Kinko's [don't ask] we circled
continually in the target neighborhood.  The twenty-something block of
St. Philips simply does not have posted building numbers.

Not that it mattered.

For the entire block consisted of parking garages and college buildings
for the College of Charleston, with not a colonial or antebellum era
building in sight.

Hours of obsessive searching instantly down the drain.  Lesson:  get out
of the library once in a while; see the sights; drink in the history and
the atmosphere first hand.  I didn't need to go all the way to
Charleston to just sit in libraries.  Next trip, I'll know better.  I
hope...