Satellites beamed Polish-language broadcasts into Chicago parishes. Bells tolled at midday from hundreds of church towers. And thousands formed a memorial procession that stretched several miles across a section of the city’s Northwest Side.
From well before dawn to after dusk, people of all faiths paused, mourned and prayed Friday as they observed the funeral and burial rites of Pope John Paul II from nearly 5,000 miles away.
Even Opening Day at Wrigley Field fell silent for a moment, as players and fans paused under brilliant spring sunshine to remember a man born as Karol Wojtyla in Wadowice, Poland. “May he rest in peace,” intoned the North Side ballpark’s announcer.
It was a day filled with many such moments, public and private, to honor a man who visited Chicago twice before his papacy, and once as the world’s first Polish pope.
With the sun falling low on the horizon–roughly 12 hours after the end of his Vatican City funeral–a capacity crowd of nearly 2,000 gathered at Holy Name Cathedral. Black bunting hung from above the cathedral’s massive stone-arch doorway, as nearly three dozen priests and bishops lined up outside for their procession to the altar and a 100-minute service filled with somber pageantry.
“He never hesitated to say what an audience least wanted to hear, yet his unblinking message always carried seeds of hope and love,” Bishop Thad J. Jakubowski said in his homily, as a gold-framed portrait of the pope sat a few feet away.
Church leaders asked that at least two representatives from every church in the Chicago archdiocese attend the mass, which included readings in the pope’s native Polish, as well as Spanish.
The mourners bowed their heads and reflected on a life that was filled with service to their church.
“If I could have been in Rome, I would have been,” said Linda Amrich, who drove downtown from Barrington. “This is the closest I could get.”
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Earlier, more than 5,000 Chicago-area residents observed the day by walking in a procession along a nearly 4-mile route on the city’s Northwest Side.
Mourners jammed traffic as the crowd moved north on Milwaukee Avenue toward a mass at St. Hyacinth Basilica. They carried flickering candles and clutched photos of the late pontiff as they sang his favorite hymns in Polish.
Storefront windows framed portraits of the pope illuminated by candles as the procession snaked its way through the predominantly Hispanic communities of Logan Square and Avondale.
Tears filled eyes as members of the Polish Youth Association carried a large portrait of the pope into St. Hyacinth, where black bunting wrapped the entry.
A crying heart
As she helped dress marchers with black-and-yellow armbands, Halina Shedlock, 55, struggled to find the words to match her feelings. “Inside, the heart is crying,” she said.
Students at many Catholic schools watched the funeral on television, with some teachers using it to discuss the pope’s role in world events or practice foreign language skills.
“It’s great pride that the pope came from Poland,” said Gregory Jusinski, 16, a sophomore at Guerin College Preparatory High School in River Grove, who speaks Polish and English at home. “I think it was just great that everyone was just taking time to pay respect to a great man.”
Others stayed up all night or arose well before dawn to watch television coverage of the funeral, which started at 3 a.m. Chicago time and lasted 2 1/2 hours.
One of the largest and most heart-felt observances took place at Five Holy Martyrs, the heavily Polish Southwest Side parish where the pontiff celebrated mass each time he visited Chicago–in 1969, 1976 and then as pope in 1979.
About 1,200 worshipers spilled onto the church’s steps to watch a Polish satellite transmission of the funeral on a massive screen behind the altar. Images from the church, in turn, were transmitted to the rest of the world, as network coverage of the funeral featured the church and its parishioners.
Elsewhere, firefighters on overnight shifts and patrons in 24-hour diners also tuned in.
In Glenview, Halina Bielowicz, her daughter, Renata, 27, and son, Greg, 24, fixed their eyes on a TV set in a parlor off their mother’s kitchen as several small golden candles flickered on a coffee table.
`He reached out’
“It was nice how he reached out, because people think the church doesn’t reach out to youth, to young people, to young adults,” Renata Bielowicz said. “He wasn’t just up on a pedestal.”
Like many of Polish ancestry in Chicago, the Bielowicz family had a Polish flag with a black cloth draped over the top flying from the front of their home.
At Five Holy Martyrs, Polish worshipers drew strength from each other. Before entering, some knelt and said silent prayers before a statue of the pope surrounded by two dozen floral arrangements in the church’s foyer.
Some arrived as early as midnight, clutching Polish and Vatican flags as they briskly walked down Pope John Paul II Drive.
“Where else could you be today?” said parishioner Marilyn Carroll, 55, of Chicago. “To not be here would be sacrilegious, like not attending the wake of one of your family. He was family.”
Walter Wojtowicz, 34, said he went to church during the middle of the night for one simple reason. “I grew up with the guy,” he said pointing at the predawn sky. “I just wanted to say thank you.”