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The deaths of Pope Francis and Pope John Paul II, two globally recognized figures with similar personal approaches, occurred almost exactly two decades apart. I had the privilege of reporting on both of them.
The news of Francis’s death reached me as I was returning to London after spending Easter weekend in the United States. Although he had been seriously ill, his condition seemed to be improving, so his swift and quiet passing at his simple apartment in the Santa Marta guesthouse was unexpected. My planned rest at home turned into a rapid journey to our UK studio.
During a series of live reports, I discussed a man who felt familiar to everyone. Known as the “People’s Pope,” he was the first from the Americas, and for 12 years, he championed the oppressed, victims of war, hunger, and poverty. He addressed significant global issues such as inequality and global warming, and tackled internal challenges within the Roman Catholic Church, like sex abuse and the roles of women and gays, with varying degrees of success. He did all of this with a personal, humble, and humorous style.
Simultaneously, I recalled the passing of Pope John Paul II. I was present in Vatican City on a cold April night in 2005, reporting with the team. The Pope was literally on his deathbed in his Apostolic Palace apartment, overlooking St. Peter’s Square, where tens of thousands had gathered in vigil. Then, the lights were extinguished.
That night, we also recounted the life of this man who had captured the world’s imagination. He was a strong advocate for freedom and democracy, playing a significant role in the collapse of communism in Poland and other countries. tried to unite the world while upholding church doctrine. I had covered him for 26 years, beginning as a junior producer at his conclave in 1978.
Following both deaths, Vatican officials used the same phrase to describe the Popes’ final journey: “He has returned to the house of his father.”
The death of a pope marks the start of an extensive process, where the Vatican hands over the leadership of the church, with its 1.3 billion followers, to a new leader. A grand, ceremonial funeral is followed by the selection of a new pope, a conclave marked by black smoke indicating no decision and white smoke signifying a new Pope, and then their inauguration.
The cardinals who convened after John Paul II’s death chose a more conservative and older leader than before. He served for only eight years, and his resignation (he died in 2022) paved the way for another conclave, which elected Pope Francis of Argentina.
Both John Paul II and Francis were considered unlikely candidates. Now, speculation is growing about the upcoming papal election. Will the papacy return to Italian dominance, or will it expand to a new country and continent? Will the new pope reinstate a more conservative approach to the church, or will they continue in the modern spirit of Francis?
The coming days will reveal the answer.
Many of us carry personal reminders of those who have passed. In my case, it is literal. In 2005, a Vatican source gave me rosary beads blessed by John Paul II. I have kept them with me on all my travels since, from Afghanistan and Iraq to the Middle East and Ukraine.
I also cherish the memory of my late mother. She greatly admired the Polish pontiff. She died from Lou Gehrig’s disease, or ALS, a condition that devastates the body, similar to some effects of Parkinson’s disease, which contributed to John Paul II’s death.
Coming from humble beginnings, I know Mom would have also appreciated the simple faith of. And the manner of his passing. Some believe he delayed his death until the Monday after Easter to avoid overshadowing the most sacred day in the Roman Catholic calendar.
Similarly, some in my family believe my mother waited to pass until the day after my April birthday, considerate of others until the very end.
Rest in Peace, Francis. I am sure you have much catching up to do with all your friends “upstairs!”