Friday, Apr. 01, 2005
The Pope and me, posted at 5:53 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com I'm a lapsed Catholic, but I do have a special interest in the Pope's march towards the death. You see, the Pope was born in Wadowice, Poland in 1921. My late paternal grandfather, Henryk, was also born in Wadowice - a very small town - in 1920. The two were classmates and friends and spent much of childhood and adolescence as playmates. Even though John Paul (or just Paul, as my grandfather called him) was very religious as a boy and my grandfather was more secular, the two forged a close friendship that lasted for years.When my grandpa went to war, he and Paul lost touch. My grandpa was quickly rounded up by the Germans and placed into a POW concentration camp, where he stayed for 20 months. Upon his release, though, Paul took a break from his study and the two spent some time together before grandpa met my grandma (a young war widow) and immigrated to Detroit.
The two kept in touch through the years, mainly with holiday cards and letters. Grandpa missed the Pope's visit to America in 1979, but in 1987, the Pope spent a day in Hamtramck, Detroit's Polish community. My grandpa and the Pope got together then, and it was a family event. I was ten years old, and remember being in this dining hall, sitting at the table across from the pope. My grandmother made her holupki, and while everyone pretty much spoke Polish, it is still a vivid memory. There were guards everywhere, but the Pope blessed me and then spent much of the night up with my grandfather.
Three years later, when my grandfather was in the first stages of cancer, the Pope requested his presence in the Vatican. He flew our whole extended family over there, and we were able to stay right in a villa off of St. Peter's Square, spending a whole week with the Pope and his staff.
My grandpa died in 1991, and I've since lapsed into a life of secularism and haven't agreed with many of the Pope's views in recent years. Yet, I remember that time the Pope played frisbee with us out in the veranda, and I remember the time he taught us how to make Papal Brownies. He once had me pull his finger and he let out a big fart; that was the Pope that the public never saw. He was a kind, decent man with a wicked sense of humor.
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Actually, this story is all a lie. My grandpa sort of looked like the Pope, and he did immigrate from Poland after being in one of Hitler's POW camps. But he never knew the Pope. Happy April Fool's Day.