Book- Cardinal

(Place at end of page 31 or start of page 32)

Around that same time a real Cardinal visited me at home ( not the St. Louis kind). Cardinal Krol from Philadelphia was at our parish to do Confirmation. We just moved to Hall Street, our little place located behind the Sacred Heart Church. Our monsignor  told Cardinal Krol about my situation.

"Where is this boy?" the Cardinal asked.

When the monsignor told him I lived on the other side of the churchyard, within walking distance, a surprise visit was planned after the ceremony.

I was watching TV at home in my bedroom, nothing special. I recall being in a double-cast- two legs- so I had to be recuperating from a pair of fractures. My head was snapping back on the pillow as I was dozing in my pajamas. Even then I was a snorer.

Anyway, it was close to nine o'clock p.m. when I heard Mom come bursting in the front door, climbing the stairs faster than I ever knew before.

"Greg!" she called out. "Greg! Are you awake? The Cardinal is coming to see you!"

"What the ???" I thought. Turns out the Cardinal, red robes flowing in the cool  spring night, was walking through the churchyard, along with Monsignor, heading for our place.

Mom gave me a quick once-over: clean pajamas, hair combed, face clean..where are my rosaries? Not that I was praying at that exact time. Let's give the Cardinal the illusion that I was deep in reflective prayer when he just happened to drop by.

Mom was very religious, so I knew this was big for her, to have a real Cardinal, someone who conceivable could  be a pope someday, give us the great honor of visiting our humble home. I'm not sure where Dad was, maybe out bowling?

I knew of Cardinal Krol, and I had faith, and did pray daily. But I was just a kid. So it didn't faze me that much. I would've rather had met a famous sports star back then .  (Although this same monsignor was friends with Philadelphia Eagles great Chuck Bednarik - ol' "Concrete Charlie" himself, and had the legendary player visit  our parish one year for Communion Breakfast. I do remember meeting Mr. Bednarik and shaking his meaty, gnarly hands. My small, tiny hand disappeared inside his meat hooks, and I'll never forget how his fingers were twisted in all different directions  from years of playing smash-mouth football. Pretty cool!).

Anyway, I was more scared than excited to meet Cardinal Krol, not frightened of him, but of the magnitude of the event. Mom gave me a crash course in Cardinal manners, advising me to call him "Your Eminence." I hoped I didn't forget and screwed it up by saying something stupid like "Mister Krol or "Father Krol."

Before any more lessons were reviewed we heard a firm knock on the front door. Mom clicked off my little TV and  rushed downstairs,  opening  the door for both the Cardinal and Monsignor. She noticed that a nice-sized crowd of church-goers had escorted the two clergymen from the church to our house. I'm sure they had to be wondering where he was going and why.

 Before I knew it I heard tons of footsteps thundering upstairs. In a  a second there he was, Cardinal Krol himself, dazzling in red, standing in my doorway. Mom  had led the way, and I remember how red in the face she was, both blushing from the event and hurrying everywhere when she realized what was happening.

The Monsignor introduced us, like I needed an introduction.I suppose he wanted to make sure I knew he had arranged this meeting, for which I was grateful.

"Gregory?" Cardinal Krol  asked.

"Hi," I replied, staring at the imposing figure walking toward my bedside. "Your Eminence." I almost forgot that part.

"I have a brother named Gregory," he informed. "So I'll never forget your name."

I didn't know what to say about that, so, I mumbled something safe like "That's nice...Your Eminence." I saw Mom approvingly nod and smile from the corner of my eye.

The rest of the short visit was small talk, prayers together, a short pep-talk, that I needed to offer my suffering up to Jesus, and an official blessing.

I do remember two things like it was yesterday: first, the Cardinal gave me a photo, a personal 8 X 10 shot that was taken when he was elevated to Cardinal in Rome not long ago.  It wasn't signed, so I asked him to please sign it.

I thought that was appropriate. If Chuck Bednarik  could sign my Communion Breakfast program, why not ask the Cardinal to sign his own picture?

Mom gave me a glance at the request. The Monsignor was peering into the room as he stood in the hallway.I scrambled to find a pen, which wasn't a problem since I was into art back then, and had about a hundred pens at my disposal beside me.

The Cardinal quickly signed, handing me the photo, which would later be tacked on my bulletin board on the wall next to my bed, along with other celebrities. Then came the real surprise.

Cardinal Krol reached into his pocket and produced a shiny gold coin. Only it wasn't a coin- it was a special medal, one blessed by  Pope Paul VI. Cardinal Krol only had a few of these and he gave one to me. I was awestruck.

A final blessing later, he was gone. I was glad the visit was over.  He was a nice guy, but now I could finally breath.  His photo- and autograph- would take it's place on my bulletin board . Mom and I would have the  memory of a lifetime.