Location

April 3, 1994
Rome, Italy

One of the best days of my life, no doubt. But it still couldn't have been perfect (as none of them ever are). We got here at around 6:15 this morning, where a cab driver greeted us and persuaded us to get a ride.

Now, I made it clear we didn't need a cab, and he dropped his price from L30,000 to L25,000 just like that, so I figured I'd talk him down a little more. Eventually I negotiated a ride for L20,000. And we made it clear we were going to the convent, but he only took us to the other train station - Termini. "Big station. Metro," is all he said, meaning, "I've got you tow dummies now. I'll squeeze the money out of you for taking you nowhere. Ha!" Or so that's how I understood it.

So we paid the clown, and he responded with the condescending international kiss-off: "Bye-bye."

It was just getting light when we arrived at the convent. They were expecting us and were starting to get worried, but we made it there just in time, despite the cab "detour."

After yet another hellish journey from England - almost 48 hours since we left Wallington - we finally made it.

* * * * *

Chris immediately fell asleep, but I couldn't sleep. I showered, had breakfast (a colored Easter egg and sweetened bread with coffee). And soon Tom Cook (who graduated from the seminary on campus last year) meet us in his cassock.

He walked us to the piazza at St. Peter's. By this time the crowds were growing quickly, and the sun was burning through the clear sky. The whole atmosphere was unexplainable.

The closer we came to the piazza, the more people seemed to be drawn like a magnet from all directions. I saw the Swiss Guards, then the Basilica, complete with the immense statues of Sts. Peter and Paul, the outdoor altar set up for Mass, and thousands of seats all sprung into view.

The colonnades were massive. Tom said the dome was designed to represent Christ's head, with the colonnades as his arms encircling the world. Really neat.

Flowers of every color and red banners have a colorful glimmer to the entire festive - and still reverent - scene. Undoubtedly the beginning to probably my most memorable Easter ever.

* * * * *

After stopping at nearly half a dozen checkpoints (and Chris having his pocket/survival knife confiscated), we made it through the bronze doors to the papal palace and up the stairs where our seats were waiting immediately above the colonnades and to the right of the altar.

Absolutely perfect view of the piazza, altar, people and all. It was breezy, in the upper 60's, a few white clouds here and there ... until about an hour before Mass was scheduled to start. Right around 9:30 the temperature dropped, clouds blew in from the west, and before we knew it, it just poured.

Two Italian seminarians gave their umbrellas to the girls while Chris and I got soaked. The storm was so heavy that nearly everyone seated around us took shelter under the makeshift bleachers. It didn't matter to me. I could've had pneumonia. I was there in Rome. On Easter. Very cool.

The storm continued for about an hour - right up until Mass. At 10:19 the choirs began (Tom was in one of them), and the priests emerged from St. Peter's.

And then it happened.

Just at 10:30, when the Holy Father (that's what everyone around here calls him) walked out, the applause began ... and the rain stopped, gradually, of course, but it was still quite an experience.

The Mass itself was very nice, as it was said in Greek, Latin, Italian, Arabic and a host of other languages - the petitions alone were said in about eight languages.

I received communion at 11:40, and just seven minutes later it was all over ... until the Pope returned on the balcony following a ceremony by a marching band and the four armed forces. He gave his address to the crowd on the importance of one's family then greeted everyone with, "Have a blessed and happy Easter in Christ the risen Lord" - in about 30 languages! To which thousands of children hailed, "Vive! Vive Papa!"

They sang, chanted and waved banners for this man who heads the worldwide Roman Catholic Church, the successor to Peter. This one man who, with his slow wave of the hand, elicited an electricity from the audience.

And then, at 12:33, after a few moments of heavy rain and nonstop cheering, he turned slowly and returned back into the Basilica. And I, not knowing if I'd see him again in person, took a long, final look. Tom said it was the shortest papal Mass he'd ever heard of. After all, the Pope apparently skipped the homily because he was scheduled to give his address to the people.

What a day ... and it was only lunchtime.

* * * * *

We headed back with Tom to the college to dry off and have a four-course lunch of mushrooms, asparagus, cheese wrapped in pasta, veal and a sugared bread for dessert. And a little chianti.

I'll tell you: Those seminarians eat well.

Tom gave us a quick tour of the place, including the roof, which had both a great view of the city and a bunch of priests slurping on some after-dinner drinks.

We headed back to St. Peter's, a place that seemed more of an amusement park than the largest Roman Catholic cathedral in the world. People squeezing here and there, mumbling either German, Italian, Japanese or Spanish. All crowded around the popular spots: where St. Peter's bones are buried, Michelangelo's sculpture of Jesus and Mary, the altar. But what I did see was also amazing. And to think that that church leads every other church in the world. I was there, among the immense architecture and history of it all.

We fought our way out and past the "area sacra," an old Roman theater. They were the first Roman ruins I had seen in Rome. Cool spot. Everything is 5-10 feet below the present ground level. We crossed the Tiber River, which, upon seeing it a second time, I figured rivaled the Mississippi in its scuzziness.

But this was no ordinary river. This was the river the ancient Romans used - those same ancient Romans I studied for four years in Latin class.

At 6:16 p.m. I saw the Colosseum, but we stopped at the Roman Forum first. Also a neat place - colonnades partially standing, remains of ancient statues. And this was a huge area.

It was hard to believe it was the center of ancient Rome. It's just unbelievable - the memories I have about learning about Rome and watching movie in Latin class just four years ago, and now I'm seeing these things in person.

Maybe it is better to see the real thing on Easter than our family's annual screening of "The Ten Commandments."

* * * * *

The cars. I'd like to comment on the Italian style of driving. Occasionally you'll stumble upon a crossing signal, but more often than not you'll see just a crosswalk. As long as another person isn't directly in front of them in that five-foot distance from one end of the hood to the other, the Italian drivers are free to rip right by.

Pedestrians, it turns out, decide their fate, start walking and hope they're not in the path of a car, because that driver isn't going to slow down.

Anyway, across the street was the Via dei Fori Imperiali, an old Roman forum that became one of the major marketplaces in the ancient city. Great architecture. That's one thing you've got to respect them for.

Finally, the Colosseum.

But it was closed. Well, at least I saw it. Remarkable how high it is: seven or eight storeys from the ground, maybe 10 in all.

After admiring the brickwork and the persistence of the vendors in the area selling miniature plaster casts of various Roman ruins, I saw the Arch of Constantine, walked the oldest "via" in Rome (dating back to the first century) and finished up at the grassy and virtually empty Circus Maximus. I couldn't find the start and finish lines, but I was able to make out parts of the track itself and the spot where the spectators sat.

* * * * *

We had dinner at the Taverna Parione. I ordered tomatoes on buttered toast, a calzone with egg, cheese and ham, and red wine.

We stopped for gelati, then headed over to Trevi Fountain - also packed with people but beautiful at night - and Piazza Navona - a great, rollicking square complete with a fountain, Arabs selling roses and young, modern hippies strumming "Let It Be" on their guitars, as well as artists and vendors of all kinds.

Forgot to mention that we stopped at the Capitol Hill for a total of about 2 3/4 minutes.

So there it is - Easter Sunday 1994. Benissimo.