Where were you?

I was torn about putting this post up because it seemed so miserably self-referential, as if it actually matters where we were when the Pope died. But thinking about it a bit more, I decided it's actually not so lame. I think it will be interesting to read your accounts of where you were, what you were doing, how people around you reacted to John Paul's passing. We're all about faith and its impact here, and this is another corner of it to explore.

We were on our way to Arizona - and the thing I remember is this.  There are times when I travel that there's some big sporting event going on - baseball playoffs, basketball tournaments, and so on - and as you walk through the airport, you see people just sort of standing around in the walkways, outside the airport bars and restaurants, watching the televisions to catch the score. That's what this was like, except what people were doing was stopping at the televisions to see what the Pope's condition was. That Thursday night before, I had been in New York, and the sign of the times was the television crews setting up for their vigils in front of St. Patrick's Cathedral.

The Sunday after he died, we went to Mass at San Xavier del Bac, described here, and the church had several pictures of John Paul around, he was mentioned in the prayers of course, but not in the homily, which I described here. It was rather striking to be down there in Arizona, in (in US terms) an ancient church, worshipping, not only with tourists, but with a substantial number of parishioners, whose ancestors were probably evangelized by Spanish missionaries and the redoubtable Father Kino, and here we were, in this gorgeous, vibrant church, in the Real Presence of Jesus, united in Him and united, through his sufferings with all the sufferings in the world, (the "wounds" in that Sunday's readings) so vividly lived by John Paul, and all hoping in the eternal life , as our ancient and sturdy faith assured us, would be his and ours as well.

In case you want to go back in time, here are a few threads that might interest you:

The What Did You Hear from that weekend - 102 comments long - focusing on how the death of John Paul II was dealt with in your parishes

That morning before the Pope died, I went to Mass at St. Patrick's and heard Cardinal Egan preach - a brief account.

Actually, you might want to just go to the April archive and scroll down and through. Not for my thoughts, which are not fascinating, but for the various and numerous threads we ran - on covering the coverage, on our thoughts during the Pope's funeral, and then, scroll back up for the Whoo-Hoo! Ratzinger! Thread

Comments

[Jules]

I was at work, checking Google news almost unwillingly every five minutes (probably more often than that). I work at my library's reference desk, and the librarian next to me was working on something. Finally one of the clicks was the one, and I lost my breath for a moment. I worked two more hours, pointing people to bathrooms and putting paper in printers, and I remember just feeling so alone and strange.

A friend was in his dorm room studying when he heard the bells at the Catholic center and knew immediately what had happened. Doesn't that sound nice and medieval?

[AmericanPapist]

Being at a small catholic college when it happened, word spread like wildfire around the campus.

Within about 15 minutes everyone had huddled around the various public TVs.

That night, my campus organized a large-screen projector and most of us watching the funeral, it finished around dawn.

I remember walking out into the early morning daylight after watching the Pope's casket retreat within St. Peters, saying a quick prayer, and going to find some breakfast before class.

Knowing that Pope John Paul was surely in heaven, time didn't really come to a halt when I heard - it's very easy to go about your daily affairs when your Catholic faith gives you perspective on these great events.

Santo Subito Giovanni Paolo!

[AmericanPapist]

btw, re: Jules... YES! The same thing happened at my campus. As I was running around to tell my classmates what had happened the sound of bells started coming from the 3 Catholic Churches in the area... it wasn't medieval, it was very Catholic.

[Nicholas]

I learned he died when I got to work that afternoon.

At the moment of his death, or very close to it, I was standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus, and singing the opening aria of Bach's cantata Ich habe genug to myself. For those not familiar with the text, it translates as follows:

I have enough!
I have held the savior, the hope of the devout,
In my unworthy arms.
I have seen him;
In faith faith I have pressed Jesus close to my heart.
Now I wish, even today,
To depart from this world in joy.

[Bender]

For years I had been praying, "Not yet, Lord, please allow him a few more years." "Let him reach the Millenium" "Let him finish this year."

When he started getting sick last year, I stopped such prayers and resigned myself to "if it be your will, so be it." Being a self-employed lawyer, I had the luxury of shoving everything else aside and plopped myself in front of the TV, flipping stations whenever I got too annoyed at the person talking at that point. On Thursday night, despite what I just said above, I prayed "not tonight," but it was clear on Friday that the end had come.

Bishop Loverde (Arlington) had a special Mass on Friday evening, and I remember thinking that he could go while I was attending. After praying the rosary after Mass, I rushed to my car, turned on the radio, and was thankful not to get "the announcement." Back to the TV, stayed up late. Eventually went to bed praying "your will be done, but please not while we are all asleep."

Our great Holy Father was still hanging in there when I awoke, so it was back to the TV for the rest of the day. And then it came, "Our Holy Father John Paul has returned to the house of the Father." Never have I felt such bittersweet feelings. Such a heaviness of the heart, but not a sadness exactly. Joy that he was with the Father, but stinging tears at his passing.

"Thank you, your Holiness," or something like that, I'm sure I said. Rejoice today at being in the Father's house, I said, but your job is not done. Soon thereafter, I was praying to him, asking that he watch over and pray for me and various others. But I began to miss him, almost immediately. And even now, watching and remembering, the heart still aches for Karol Wojtyla, Ioannes Paulus Magnus.

Santo Subito!

[Regina F.]

When I got up on the 1st, learning he was declining, I was faced with a dilemma: we were hosting a big Sweet 16 party that night at the church hall! So, I spoke with my daughter and explained that I thought it would be disrespectful, and although disappointed, she agreed to postpone. I was pleased to note that all the guests understood and agreed.
It's silly, I suppose, but this small act made us feel closer to him. Other than that, we were all glued to the television, waiting and praying.
I realized that we really loved him.

[Floyd Ferguson]

We arrived in Rome on Saturday, were on the square that night as everyone said goodbye, and were given the gift of staying the next week through the funeral.

Full story here: www.txcnx.com/rome

[tony]

I was strolling down Times Square when I saw a flash on an electronic ticker on one of the buildings announce the Pope's passing. I had come to New York for a weekend visit from Canada. At the airport in Canada the news on the TV related how ill the Holy Father was and during much of the trip I couldn't get him out of my mind. It was so clear he was dying but I think God was giving all of us time to get ready for his death. And yet when I did see the ticker tape, I remember feeling so sad. It will remain as one of the most memorable experiences of my life.

[Kathryn]

Hey. Amy, I was on my way to Arizona, too, driving east on Interstate 10 toward Phoenix to attend a surprise party for my aunt's 80th birthday (really a suprise,since her birthday's in June--but the family thought it would be nicer to gather to celebrate in a cooler month!).

We were traveling through the greenest spring on the desert in maybe a century...yellow wildflowers lined the highway...listening to Fr. Stan Fortuna CDs on the way.

The vast, empty desert & the music
together evoked a very strong sense of peace.

After checking in to the motel and turning on CNN, we learned the Pope had passed away during our journey.

John Paul had visited Phoenix in 1987 and later in the day the local TV stations aired
various touching personal remembrances of that visit by area residents.

Next morning we attended the 7 a.m. Mass at St. Francis Xavier Church on Central Ave. I knew that the Pope had traveled along Central Ave. in the Popemobile when he visited Phoenix because my aunt, who's not Catholic, but who lives on the street, had snapped a photo of him passing by and sent me a copy at the time.

Being in a place where he had once been at the time we learned of his death and began the process of absorbing it and reflecting on it seemed to offer an added little measure of comfort.

[Fr Martin Fox (Septimus)]

Oh, I remember: I remember a couple of days before, waking up to the report on the radio that our late, beloved holy father had taken a bad turn. NPR played some of the music Vatican Radio was playing.

I remember watching the TV pretty closely on that Friday and Saturday. I prepared a homily for Saturday morning Mass, unsure whether he'd still be alive by the time I got that morning to deliver it. I was pretty emotional as I gave it--recalling, especially the final time he came to the window. He tried to speak to us, but he couldn't. But then, he didn't have to. Tu es Petrus!

Then, of course, back to watching the scene in Rome that Saturday. When the announcement came, I was struck by so much sorrow. I ran downstairs, to be sure anyone around knew. I told the volunteer manning the phones in the office; I ran over to church, where a wedding had just finished, and told the pastor and a visiting priest.

As soon as the wedding party had moved out of the church, we set the bells tolling. We'd made plans for mourning the holy father, and we set them in motion quickly. Our business manager and another lady helped get the black bunting up. A local TV station came by and interviewed them; they were crying on air.

I don't recall if I had the evening Mass or not, but I do recall my homily was a mess, because I'd written something about Divine Mercy, but I pretty much set that aside, and spoke extemporaneously. It felt so awful not mentioning his name in the Eucharistic Prayer; and when I slipped, a week or so later, and mentioned him, it still hurt. Even now, I want to say, John Paul our pope. That's no slight to our present holy father.

[Lucy]

I was here at Notre Dame. Early Thursday evening, I heard that Last Rites had been administered to the Holy Father, and my boyfriend and I watched CNN for about an hour.

Friday it became obvious the end was near. One professor and hooked up the large screen in the auditorium to play EWTN and I watched the Mass at the Lateran, remembering especially the "Anima Christi." I went over to the Basilica where Exposition was underway.

There was a false report of John Paul's death midafternoon, and the bells started tolling. Within five minutes, the President elect, the Reverend Father John Jenkins was praying in the church. My respect for him skyrocketed that day.

Friday night was a quiet affair. I remember at the Mass of the Blessed Virgin Saturday morning, the celebrant, the chaplain of the law school, being so moved as he gave his homily about John Paul meeting the Mother whom he loved so much when he got to heaven. Notre Dame might have some of the last priests ordained under John Paul II- that Saturday was Ordinations for the Congregation of the Holy Cross.

I spent the day studying in the library with my boyfriend, and checking the internet every half hour or so. At some point I ran into a friend who told me his mother had just called him- the Holy Father had passed.

We prayed a decade of the Rosary in one of the small study rooms in the basement of Hesburgh library. I walked outside after. It was a clear sunny day, and the bells tolled unceasingly. We went to the Vigil Mass afterwards, where the church was full and a large image of John Paul placed in front of the ambo.

The death of the pope was clearly marked. The Basilica was draped in black bunting, and the bells tolled from the time of his death until the funeral, if I remember correctly. I knew there was no better place to be this side of the Atlantic.

[Dave Pawlak]

I was in my bedroom doing housework. Fox News on in the living room. When his death was announced, I immediately stopped what I was doing and rushed to the living room. And I wept. Then I called Amy (my wife and then-fiancee, not our host here) at her workplace.

[ambrose]

We were spending the week with my aunt and grandmother in the Outer Banks. Though we were all checking the news channels pretty much all week, we still were on the beach daily. The actual afternoon (our time) it was announed that the Pope had passed, my husband, my son, and I were in the sand and the surfe. We figure at the actual moment of his passing we were in the process of losing a kite when the string broke in the wind. In a much more capable writer's hands there is probably some gorgeous metaphor to be constructed here, maybe not with the kite in the ocean, but maybe the setting sun, or the toddler filling and dumping sand, or some other aspect of our outing that day but the reality was more like this: We lost our kite. We drove back to my aunt's house and learned the Pope died. We went to dinner anyway.
I was surprised that my grandmother, who rarely goes out to eat dinner because it doesn't interest her as much as her books and quiet anymore, greeted us, lipsticked and ready, particularly after hearing the news. My daily Mass-going, Liturgy of the Hours-praying, Frequent Adoration-devotee grandmother told us on the way out the door, "Oh yes, the Pope died while you were out." But she followed that up with something like we may as well get dinner, since no one cooked anything, nor were they planning on it. Like American Papist said, time didn't come to a halt.

[KH]

I saw the false report of his death on the EWTN website, froze and called a friend of mine who, as "things" turn out, will be entering the RC church in two weeks. After I called her back and told her of the mistake, we both knew that it was a matter of hours. Then I took out the wide, black satin ribbon I had bought just two days before. When I was in the fabric store buying it, the nice Jewish lady asked me, "How much do you need? What are you making?" When I told her I planned to make a funeral wreath for JPII, right away the woman got teary-eyed. "Oh! Oh, I love that man! Such a good man; oh, I've got chills! How sad, how sad!"

[Jennifer N.]

Reading all your stories is a great blessing, but it has me in tears again.

Eventually went to bed praying "your will be done, but please not while we are all asleep."

Our great Holy Father was still hanging in there when I awoke, so it was back to the TV for the rest of the day.

That was exactly what I did, Bender. I went to bed Friday night dreading waking up and hearing that the Holy Father died while I was asleep. I was so grateful for my sake, if not for his, that he lived a few more hours.

Throughout John Paul's illness, I was sick with a fever, too. Knowing how miserable I felt, as an otherwise healthy younger person, I could only imagine what he must have been going through. Suffering at the same time gave me a sense of solidarity and I offered up every ache and pain for him.

As a stay at home mom, I had the ability to keep a constant television vigil and to watch and discuss things with my children. It helped my grieving heart that the coverage was almost completely respectful. I'm still shocked by that.

I was huddled on my couch with a box of tissues and a bottle of Advil when the official word came of the Holy Father's death. I cried, prayed and cried some more. Of course I was happy that he was now in heaven, but I was sad to lose him. I knew that I'd never again be able to speak of him without my eyes welling up.

[Jennifer N.]

Double posting to respond to KH...

Then I took out the wide, black satin ribbon I had bought just two days before.

I did the same thing, KH. Two days earlier I had gone to the fabric store and bought black satin ribbon to make a mourning wreath. I constructed the wreath while watching coverage of John Paul's last day of life. When he died, I hung it on our front door until the conclave began. Then I made a white wreath for when our new pope was elected.

It meant a lot to me to do something to express my family's mourning. I think it's a shame that our society has discarded the old customs... the black bunting, arm bands, black clothing. To me it says to others, "Please proceed gently. Our hearts are grieving.".

[Chris]

My friend and I did a pro-life vigil in the rain the morning he died. We were wondering whether he'd die during the vigil at the abortion clinics.

I dropped her off and listened to Catholic radio on the way home. Maybe secular radio, too, which was also keeping vigil at St. Peter's. It was obvious the end was very near.

I got home and went on the Internet (I have no cable here). I listened to the EWTN streaming on the Internet while they were praying the rosary in St. Peter's Square, and especially the Salve Regina for him.

I remembered the first time I had access to EWTN (shortwave). The reception was horrible, but it was during John Paul II's visit to the US in 1995. On saturday afternoon he prayed the rosary and intoned the Salve Regina, which I thought was pretty but didn't know the words to. But I knew the words by April 2, 2005 and chanted along with the thousands in the square serenading to our beloved Pope.

Then, several minutes later, his death was announced. That's when I knew where I'd be attending Mass the next day. My alma mater in Orchard Lake was having a Divine Mercy Mass. Karol Wojtyla had visited the campus twice as cardinal.

I went in the chapel and prayed in front of the icon of Our Lady of Czestochowa. Once Mass started, the Chancellor told us that Cardinal Wojtyla had given the icon to the school as a gift during his last visit the year before he became pope.

[Clayton]

I was in line for confession during a Holy Hour at St. Victor's in West Hollywood. It occured to me that, if it hadn't been for John Paul II, I probably wouldn't have been there at all -- I probably wouldn't be in Los Angeles, I likely wouldn't have gravitated toward the Eucharist and the other sacraments, etc.

John Paul II once wrote that the family always remains the existential horizon of one's existence. I think this is true of one's supernatural family as well as one's natural family. And, on that horizon, the figure of John Paul II will always loom large in my life. To forget him would be to forget one of the primary formative influences in my life... in a sense, to forget who I am.

[Sonetka]

I was at home obsessively refreshing CNN.com when it happened, and felt very unmoored afterwards. My husband decided it would be good to get out of the house, so we went downtown - we live in Salt Lake City and that weekend (like this one) was the weekend of the spring LDS general conference, so downtown was absolutely flooded with people, all in their Sunday best; suits, ties, long dresses. We went to a bookstore cafe and just watched all the people streaming in and out of the temple. I was about twenty-one weeks along then and remember feeling the baby squirm and thinking how odd it was that he would never have John Paul as his Pope. Overall, just a feeling of empty rootlessness.

[Jason]

I was out-of-state, and didn't really have access to a television. That Friday before, I saw some of the television coverage, saying it was the end, but I took it with a grain of salt. He's an old man; stuff happens. I called home from a payphone on the side of a road somewhere in the late afternoon on Saturday, and was told the Pope had died. I didn't have an emotional response, as a lot of people did. It was kind of just a quiet feeling in my stomach that he was really gone. I was surprised, and a little anxious about where we were going next as a Church. I went to Mass the next day, and the Church had a Papal banner draped outside the Church, and a big picture of JP and Divine Mercy near the altar. The rest of the week was just all-JP2 coverage, all the time, which I was able to follow when I got back home.

I'm hoping that his Feast becomes a big one in the Latin Church, kind of like St. John Chrysostom for the East. He was our "golden-mouth", and every day that passes without him, I am more and more appreciative of the great gift he gave us, the gift of himself.

[Fr. Totton]

I was having lunch in a pub/sports-bar with a priest-mentor on Friday when they made a false report of His Holiness' death. A few minutes later they re-canted, but we all knew his time on earth was short.

The next day I was at a Fourth Degree exemplification for the Knights of Columbus. Our (then) coadjutor Bishop was there and somebody called him out of the room during a presentation - we all knew. At the next opportunity, the sad news was announced. Needless to say, it put a damper on the festivities, but what happened is that many shared memories of the late Great pontiff - it was like a good Catholic wake.

[Mary Kay]

The first report had me irritated with the press for their obsession with John Paul II's "imminent" death (for the past 10 years, at least). When I realized that this time, it was really true, I was surprised with the depth of sadness I felt, even though it was inevitable and inevitably soon.

[St. Elizabeth of Cayce]

Like many others, we'd been watching closely for several weeks as our Pope entered and left the hospital. On Easter Sunday, I had downloaded many pictures from Yahoo, wanting to hold on to the image of John Paul II's struggle to speak, his anguish and then resignation as his spoken word ministry ended. I still cannot look at those photos without sorrow for all we lost when this great man left us.

On Saturday, April 2, we watched cable coverage all morning. In the early afternoon, we had to head across town to drop my husband's motorcycle off for maintenance. None of our local radio stations were following the story (this is a very Baptist town), so neither of us heard anything at the moment of his passing.

As I arrived at the bike shop, and was about to get out of the car, I heard the announcement on the top of the hour NPR newsbreak. I walked over to my husband, as he removed his helmet, and managed to say "We've lost him," before dissolving into tears.

We drove home quietly, and spent much of the next two weeks engrossed in the story. We prayed the novena, got up early for the funeral (which we watched on C-SPAN while following along on EWTN's website), and took advantage of the opportunities to answer questions from friends and family about the Catholic Church. A bout of pneumonia kept me home for two weeks in April, so I was able to follow the papabile pontificating, and watch the chimney-cam.

I am so grateful for John Paul II's very public life, including his public suffering, showing us both the dignity of all of life and the never-failing mercy and love of God. Subito Santo!

[MelanieB]

It's hard to believe that it's been a year.

Dom and I, then engaged, were at a day of talks on marriage and family by Scott and Kimberly Hahn at Holy Family parish in Rockland, MA. Dom had his laptop set up in the lobby and kept slipping out of the talks to check the news. He was responsible for posting the story on CWN.com when it broke and we were pretty sure it would be that day. It seemed strange to be waiting for the news in that journalistic manner... worried about missing the moment. But I kept reminding myself that many people depended on the website to inform them.

When Dom returned from one of his lobby trips and slid in beside me, he leaned over and whispered that it had happened: our Holy Father was gone.

My first thought was an image my sister had passed on to me: John Paul and Mother Teresa dancing in heaven. And how happy he would be to finally be there with the Blessed Mother whom he loved. I both wanted to laugh with joy and cry... an emotion that Cardinal Ratzinger captured again so beautifully during his funeral homily with the image of John Paul leaning out of a window in heaven.
But as happy as I was for him, I still felt like an orphan.

Dom had evidently told Father Clark, whose parish it was, and Father told Scott Hahn so that when Kimberly was done with her final talk Scott took the microphone again, made the announcement and led us all in prayer. It was wonderful, comforting to be surrounded by so many of my family members in prayer, even if most of them were strangers. I was so glad I was there and not watching on television or listening to the radio.

[Kathleen]

Wow, I don't know why I am so teary eyed today, but all of your posts got me going bigtime. My dog is staring at me wondering what is wrong.

I was in the car driving when I heard and I just let the tears come. I noticed others around me also crying. I went home and my neighbors (non-Catholics) called out from there open windows to ask if I was o.k., which I truly appreciated.

I was happy for him but sad for us. The old saying that death is hardest on the living most certainly is true. I was happy to think of him seeing his family again. I felt that way also when Mother Teresa died because she was never allowed by the communist government of Yugoslavia (I think) to see her mother before she died, so I was happy to think of her seeing her mother again.

I cry easily so I wasn't surprised that I wept but as one poster put it above I did also have a sense of being without an anchor and I was very worried about what would come next!

Thank you Holy Father JPII!

[Rich Leonardi]

We were minutes away from leaving our vacation spot in New Smyrna Beach, Florida. During the fourteen hour drive back to Cincinnati, we listened to the non-stop radio coverage. We picked up the big radio station here -- 700 WLW -- once we hit Tennessee. One of the talk show hosts, a self-described lapsed Catholic put off by teachings like the "rhythm method," admitted he felt "nothing" over the Pope's passing. He solicited callers to help him understand what he was missing, and so I dialed in and spoke with him for about ten minutes. "You probably don't know -- literally -- what you're missing. Why not learn a bit more about the Faith you were born into before leaving it for good?" I suggested a few books and websites and then got back to driving.

[Patricia Gonzalez]

When the announcement was made that our beloved JPII had gone home, I was writing him a farewell note on the computer. My husband was watching CNN in the living room, and came to say that our dear Papa had passed away. I finished the note, went to the living room, and watched the coverage till late at night. The rest of April, I alternated between CBC, CNN, EWTN, and the Salt and Light network here in Canada watching events unfold in Rome. It was such an inspiring month as Mother Church revealed her grandeur and tenderness to the world. That too was a gift from Papa, to make us aware of our heritage, to help us realize the witness of his own life. I like the picture of him and Mother Teresa dancing in Heaven -- way cool, as the kids say! I know he must have been rapturous seeing Our Lord and Our Lady fact to face, since his whole life was such a witness to his love for Them. Like many others, I can't believe it's a year already. There was a brief mention of the anniversary at Mass this morning, when our PP invoked JPII's intercession on behalf of a young mother from our parish who's gravely ill. He especially asked the Communion Class to pray, since (he noted) JPII always responded so tenderly to children. Santo Subito, Il Grande Giovanni Paolo!

[Makr]

I hope my little story is one y'all find uplifting or at least interesting. I am a journalist (page designer/art director/news editor) at a midsize daily newspaper. Because it obviously was a huge news event, I was in to work although it was my day off. My newsroom is overwhelmingly secular, with a general anti-religious voice from many of the employees. Anyway, it was a bit surreal to me to take inventory of the crew who was in that night to produce what we all knew would be the edition memorializing JPII:
* A never-churched/new agey artist who produced a beautiful, reverent illustration of JPII.
* A former Catholic, now Evangelical news editor who selected the stories.
* A former Catholic, now avowed atheist editing copy and writing headlines.
* A former Catholic, now quiet agnostic editing copy and writing headlines.
* A Methodist photo editor selecting images.
* A former Catholic, now very Conservative Lutheran Page A1 designer (me).
In a place that is the epitome of modern secularism, this motley bunch produced what seems to me a very reverent, newsy, respectful, beautiful front page. And the working atmosphere wasn't full of snarky remarks like I'd anticipated; it was unusually quiet, as though everyone in the room knew we were witnessing history, and our newspaper would reflect that well. I think it was about that time I began reading this blog; I also began reading some Catholic and ancient church theology. Thanks for reading this entry.

[TSO]

I was sick in bed with the flu the Friday night before he died. The next day, confined to bed, I alternatively watched a tape of "Lawrence of Arabia" interspersed by news of the Pope. I wanted to be there at the moment his death was announced, watching TV so I could "share" the emotions of the people at St. Peter's square and any interviewees. In the afternoon, 3 or 4 I think, I was feeling well enough to get some food and so was driving to McDonald's when I heard the news on the car radio.

[JACK]

I was literally parking my car to go into confession at St. Peter's in the loop when the announcement came over the radio. Most people in the church didn't know he had passed because they had already been in the church for a bit. I remember while standing in line for confession a young woman came in with a small portable tv and just collapsed to her knees sobbing. Everyone in line quickly realized what had happened. Shock and definite prayers, but everyone continued to wait for confession.

[Debbo]

My family and I (husband and 3 young girls) were flying back to Washington state after a visit with my brother in Virginia. Sometime during the middle of the flight, I thought about the Holy Father and said a prayer for him. We learned after we landed that he had died while we were flying.

[Shaun G]

I was named after John Paul II; my first name is Gaelic for "John," and my middle name is Paul. And since he was the only pope I'd ever known, his death was obviously a very significant event in my life.

Still, I'm having a hard time remembering exactly where I was when I heard the news.

But I remember going to Mass that night, and during the part of the Eucharistic Prayer that would normally go, "Lord, remember your Church throughout the world; make us grow in love, together with John Paul our Pope, Justin [Rigali] our bishop, and all the clergy," the priest instead omitted the part about the pope — since I guess, technically, we didn't have one at that moment — and instead referred to John Paul II in the next part of the prayer:

"Remember John Paul II, whom you have called from this life. In baptism he died with Christ. May he also share his resurrection."

[Owen]

My thoughts are here:
http://onionboy.typepad.com/luminousmiseries_ii/2006/04/the_best_tribut.html

And if a picture is worth a thousand words, I recommend this over my own words:
http://homepage.mac.com/dombett/iMovieTheater1.html

[Maureen]

I was down in the basement playing Dungeons and Dragons at a friend's house. I'd been obsessively following the news all the rest of the week, so that was probably just as well. When we went out of the house to eat, I seem to remember the group was discussing poor Terry Schiavo. When we turned on the car radio, that's when we found out about what had happened.

I was mostly happy for him. He had fought the good fight; he had finished the race. I wasn't afraid of what would happen next; I felt sheltered by God. I was sad, but only in an Irish wake sort of way -- tears punctuating smiles and laughter and jokes.

I still have the silver-gray-black shawl I bought for the memorial Mass at our parish. I was helping cantor, and I felt a desperate need to formalize my outfit a little further. I love it, but I haven't reached that level of formal occasion since. (I would have worn it this year for the funeral of Fr. Chris Rohmiller, but I felt convinced that somewhere Father would have laughed at me if I had.) :)

[rcesq]

I was getting ready to prepare a celebratory birthday dinner for a Jewish friend with whom we had traveled to Italy four years earlier. Just before the trip she was diagnosed with lung cancer, underwent radiation therapy in anticipation of surgery, decided to go on the trip anyway, and wanted to see the Pope. The monsignor in charge of tickets to the general audience "upgraded" our seats when he heard the story (four of the six of us were Jewish), so we were only feet away on St. Peter's steps. Our birthday party became a "Thank You John Paul" party, because we're all convinced his blessing has helped her survive until today. Santo Subito!

[Tom Fitzpatrick]

But inevitably one is asked where you were when some watershed in the life of man took place. The Kennedy assasination, Pearl Harbor, September 11th, the attempts on President Reagan's and the Pope's lives in the 1980s. I think the death of the Holy Father, the greatest Pope of the 20th Century, and probably for a few centuries before, qualifies.

At one level, such information is only important to that particular individual. But the question will be asked, and must be answered.

For the record, I was attending the last installment of the Divine Mercy Novena at Saint Francis Chapel at the Prudential Center Shopping Mall, Boston. Father John Wycks, OMV had just finished Benediction, and was more than halfway through the Chaplet of Divine Mercy when Father Dennis Brown, OMV, approached the lecturn and handed him a note. Father Wyckes continued the Chaplet, but I think everyone knew what the note contained. Father announced the Holy Father's death as soon as the Chaplet was completed.

I look on it as a special grace to hear this sad, sad news in this place. Over the previous year and a half, I had grown quite fond of the Chapel and the priests who staff it. I had also grown quite fond of the Chaplet of Divine Mercy. I tried to say it every day, often as part of a Holy Hour. If one must hear such sad news, it is good to hear it in a holy place one is attached to while taking part in a devotion that has given much comfort.

[TSO]

I was attending the last installment of the Divine Mercy Novena...

Such an impressively pious group. I keep waiting for, "I was out stealing hubcaps when...".

[Jennifer N.]

In a place that is the epitome of modern secularism, this motley bunch produced what seems to me a very reverent, newsy, respectful, beautiful front page.

Thank you, Makr. I really appreciate the media's respectful coverage of John Paul II's life and death.

Now come home, friend. Our heavenly Father longs to have you back in His church.

[Sean Gallagher]

I was finishing up a round of golf with my father in Brown County, Indiana (about an hour south of my home in Indianapolis). As soon as I stepped into the room at the small resort where my parents where my parents were staying, I heard on the room's TV, "Pope John Paul II has just died."

Since I work for the newspaper of the Archdiocese of Indianapolis, I very soon hopped in my car back for my home. I spent much of the rest of the weekend shuffling between working (doing interviews and writing), praying, and helping to take care of my family.

In an ordinary issue of our newspaper, I'll usually have a couple of articles amounting to maybe 300 lines and I will have been working on those articles for about a week or so.

For the issue that covered the pope's death, I wrote over 700 lines of copy in the span of about 4 days. (I know, for any of you who work for a daily, you're saying, 'Big whoop.')

But though it was a lot of work, it was also highly rewarding. I was blessed to hear and pass on many great testimonies of how John Paul touched so many lives in a positive way.

If you'd like to read the articles The Criterion printed in that issue, go here (scroll down to the April 8 issue links).

[Sue Smith]

My own father was dying his own slow death from congestive heart failure. I spent his last week by his side at the nursing home with the television on in the background watching the Pope's condition and the other news story of the day...Terri Schiavo's death. Terri Schiavo died on March 31, my father on April 1. The next day at about 1PM we heard the news that Pope John Paul II had passed away. My biological father and my spiritual father were both gone in the span of 24 hours. With the juxtaposition of Terri Schiavo's death, I knew there was the hand of God leading us, showing us the wrong way to end a human life and the right way to end a human life. I'll never forget those days, nor the lessons I learned watching death up close and on the world stage.

[Seth]

I had been holding vigil in front of the television throughout the night and into the morning of April 2. Just before noon central time, while switching between EWTN and the cable news networks, the bells began to toll.

I wept with the people at St. Peter's.

The following hours were a blur, not because this was a shock, but because as a minister at my public university's Catholic student center, I then had work to do.

It was a great grace for the center to have been hosting a day of priestly discernment that day. A Mass had been already scheduled, which was concelebrated by several priests, and the homilist reflected on John Paul's influence on the Church and his own personal priesthood.

And we young people received our Lord in Body and Blood, who had earlier received our Pope in death.

I share more on my blog: http://www.xanga.com/misternaser/466600730/at-the-window-of-the-fathers-house.html

[Gashwin]

I was at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, in the St. Paul's Catholic Center, attending the 2005 Institute for Evangelical Catholicism. I remember so clearly the announcement being made in one of the sessions by a teary-eyed priest; people getting down on their knees in prayer, rosaries emerging out of pockets, and flowers piling up in front of his photos in the narthex. I just wept, and couldn't stop. I was quite taken aback at just how emotional I was.

This year, we were back at the , continuing the work of the new evangelization.

Santo Subito!

[Bronwyn]

I was on spring break that week, and had gone to Austin to stay with a friend's family for Easter and the following week. When I heard that his condition was worsening, it was through a cell phone call while wandering alone through San Antonio, and I stood and watched a TV station set up outside the cathedral later that day. The next day, we were outside washing my car in preparation for the overnight drive back to college in FL, when his sister came out and told us of his passing. At school, we had the large TV in the cafeteria on pretty much from then until the new Pope was chosen.

[kathleen]

Sue:

Perfect. Just perfect.

A nun I had attended daily with before she became a nun, in NYC, who I accidentally bumped into in DC after I had moved here, once said, with God there are no coincidences.

I think she was right, and it is no more so evdient in the timing of events last year.

God bless.

Kathleen

[Matt & Susan]

I remember distinctly being at work Friday, being about as productive as a slug, with all of my constant refreshing, going back and forth between ewtn.com, foxnews.com, and drudge. When the false report came about, I waited until a few sites had it up, and then went around to every office and cubicle, making "the announcement" The Saturday, 4/2, I simply woke up, parked myself in front of EWTN, and prayed. We went to church, they had an ad hoc public evening prayer, it was so nice.

[MJ]

I was at my parents' house, where we were living at the time, watching the TV coverage. I remember that Italian lady announcing "The Pope is dead" over and over, when he actually was not (yet). What I remember most, though, is that I started my new job as organist on the day the Pope died. I remember thinking that this had to be an omen or something. So far things have been going quite well, so I hope that he continues to intercede for me!

[Jay Anderson]

My wife and I had just spent the day in Colonial Williamsburg, and heard the news when we returned to our car and turned on the radio.

[Dave]

I was at the Saturday afternoon Mass at the Church of St Helena in south Minneapolis, about 2 hours away from getting on a plane to accompany my wife to a conference in San Francisco. Father announced at the beginning the word that he had just heard from someone in the sacristy- that our dearly beloved Papa had finally gone to his reward.
As much as I had been trying to prepare myself for what had seemed inevitable, I still spent the next day in a daze.
But one thing that gave me comfort was all the memorials in the Catholic churches we visited in the Bay Area- particulary the "new" basilica at Mission Dolores and SS Peter & Paul in North Beach.

[Kit-Kat]

I was on a Eucharistic Procession sponsored by the Archdiocese of New York: http://www.archnyvocations.org/site/staywithuslord.html

It was supposed to go to St. Patrick's but because of the crowds the organizers decided to cancel the St. Patrick's leg. We were gathered at Holy Cross Church listening to Fr. Groeschel speak when Papa died. I was recently unemployed and going through a serious case of denial re: Papa's condition, so when the news came in I was devastated. Had I not been at church, with my friends, attending the impromptu Mass that was celebrated in his memory, and had access to confession, and been literally following Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, I think I might have gone into a serious depression. Some of my friends and I went to Catholic Underground up in Yonkers (organized by the CFR's) where there was more Eucharistic Adoration, prayer, and praise. Fr. Groeschel spoke to us there too so I got to hear him twice in one day.

The organizers of the procession decided to continue with the Sunday leg because that's what Papa would've wanted. We flew black ribbons from the canopy and from the Vatican flag that was carried. People thought we were doing this because Papa had died; they had no idea this had been planned for months! Talk about Providence! It was so joyful. When we got to Washington Heights and we were joined by some charismatic Latinos, I couldn't stop dancing and singing with them.

That procession taught me that popes come and got but it's Christ who leads the Church. That's no slight to our dear departed Papa, but it was something I needed to learn in that moment. I got up early to watch the funeral. I was mesmerised by the beauty of it all. It was then I was finally happy for Papa that he was gone to the Father's house. But I was still sad because I missed him (I still do). I held tight to what I learned at that procession as the conclave began and my hope was affirmed when we received our current beloved Papa, Benedict.

[Thom Ryng]

My fiancé and I were in Rome, visiting her family. It was day two of our eight-day trip.

Imagine: an elegant flat just outside Rome; twenty loud, animated Italians talking simultaneously; food enough for fifty. The noise was deafening, the laughter contagious despite the language barrier, and of the food and wine there was no end.

One cousin and her husband announced a pregnancy. We all signed the cast of a younger cousin (a football injury, proudly described).

Hovering over all was the presence of the patriarch, Uncle Settimio: an artist as a youth, now a retired insurance adjuster.

Vain and dapper, he dyes his perfectly coifed hair and uses makeup to hide the blemishes of old age. He habitually dangles an unlit cheroot from his fingers. When he speaks, he is accorded the respect of silence as is no one else.

When the talk turns to politics, he ventures no opinion, but even this is enough to deflate the loudest of the pro- and anti-Berlusconi invective.

In the midst of this, one of the more animated cousins, Gianni, who has all the gravity of the class clown, receives a cell phone call.

His face falls. He addresses Uncle Settimio, but he's really telling us all.

"Il papa è morte."

It was like a switch had been thrown; what had been a family party became, in effect, a wake.

[Jocelyne]

I was working backup on a cursillo weekend with the "Polish Mafia" (a number of wonderful Polish women who are very strong in our local movement). It was my hour to be in the chapel praying for the team and candidates, and I had just finished my Divine Mercy novena when our sacristan came into the chapel and told me the news. She and I began a rosary before the blessed sacrament, and as team members were able, they joined us. The Polish contingent were very emotional (like I wasn't), but the overwhelming feeling was of peace and of joy that his long struggle was finally over. It was the perfect place to be.

[Mark]

I remember spending much of the day monitoring the news stations while working around the house. When the "official" announcement was made of the Holy Father's passing, my wife and I embraced and wept openly. It was as if a close member of the family had just died. We both felt a sense of being orphaned and alone. John Paul has been a true father to us for the better part of our lives. I miss him here on earth, yet sense his presence each day.

[Tony A]

I was walking in Georgetown, Washington DC. It was a beautiful Spring day, very similar to the past weekend. As I turned from Wisconsin Avenue onto P Street, I checked the news on my cell-phone and saw the death announcement. Although it was totally expected, I felt an immense loss, and even shed a few tears. My girlfriend was with me. The following day, I proposed, and we were married last November. Out of great sadness can come great joy...

[Maria]

My husband, our children and I were visiting his parents who live in the North Bay of CA. Before we left their home to drive to Chinatown for a visit, we learned of JP II's passing. I kept thinking to myself, "Of all the places I could be on the day he dies, I'm in Chinatown!"

Well, my husband's parents are fallen-away Catholics and had not been into a Church in a long time. We came upon a Catholic Church so while my mother-in-law went to shop, we went into the Church. She came into the Church shortly thereafter and prayed for a little while. It was then I realized why I was in Chinatown on the day the Pope died...I was just an instrument...