Connecting Pope John Paul II and Bob Seger

No one ever asked Pope, back when he visited us here in Chicago first in 1979, to climb on a motorcycle and with white robes flying, ruddy face beaming, waving and genuflecting to crowd; chug proud, loud and smiling on up Milwaukee Avenue.

Bob Seger in background as The Pope climbs up on Harley:

“Took a look down a westbound road Right away I made my choice”

No one asked Pope. But if they had, and if it would have helped church: I am betting that this smiling Polish holy man, back in 1979 bounding off plane at O’Hare, bending down to kiss ground, this flowing bundle of good will who visited more countries than any other Pope in history---I’m betting he would have hopped right on that Harley.

Bob Seger taking off into high plains and Pope taking same kind of journey, but his is straight into hearts of city. Straight northwest up Milwaukee Avenue, as people start gathering and cheers start cascading across sidewalks on a warm summer afternoon. Folks streaming out of shops to see that beaming man on motorcycle come to say hello.

If you’re young, if you’re poor, if you are struggling: you understand.

An actor on world stage they’d call him when he passed. But back in Chicago in 1979 he was still Priest from Poland who made Communist party functionaries tremble---not from politics: but from his faith. At beginning of his time as Pope, he came to Chicago. There could not have been a more stark contrast to imperial nature of Chicago’s John Cardinal Cody. 1979, Pope from Poland, well he just might have got on that motorcycle. Maybe have some pirogue? Maybe some kielbasa, some ham and some sausage? There would be friends who knew him in from South Bend and St. Louis, back when he was just Karol. There would always be friends. The community. To keep church going we would eat together.

Such hopeful times. And here he was! Not just with millions in Grant Park, but here he was on back of that motorcycle. Right here on Milwaukee Avenue! Giving voice to so many who were different. So many who were confused:

Roll, roll me away, Won’t you roll me away tonight! I too am lost, I feel double-crossed I’m sick of what’s wrong and what’s right.

A Pope who gave shape and color to words “social justice.” Giving voice to poor, sick, folks on outskirts---way, way far from that million dollar Cardinal’s mansion in by Lake. A peoples Pope! And that was new.

Like Bob Seger sang:

Take away my inhibitions Take away my solitude Fire me up with your resistance Put me in mood Storm walls around this prison Leave inmates Free guards Deal me up another future From some brand new deck of cards.

Right there on Milwaukee Avenue, with scent of fresh baked Polish rye bread sweetening air and giving all those inside this Christian colony of proud people a way to say: “Ok. . .maybe after a few years we are making it---maybe we are not so poor-- maybe God has given us this day our daily bread!

See rich man lost and lonely Watch him as he dines Sitting there just testing all wines

Sure, even then there were “money changers” camped out in temple. But they had yet to set up shop on steps outside, charging corporate membership rates backed up by rendition campaigns of American secret police, wars for oil and power, trampling of human rights, ignoring earth that we steward and finally bowing our heads to all powerful “talking points” of propaganda machine that twisted a moral fundamentalism into a market fundamentalism.

For weeks, I knew that it was time for her arrival. But, I tried not to think about it.

Finally, one morning, I was able to, reluctantly, pry my mouse from my fingers (not an easy thing to do when you are online as much as I am) and replace it with a bucket, scrub rags, and wall cleaner. I really don't mind spring-cleaning. It’s just getting started thing that’s really hard for me.

I had no problem, at all, with walls in room I was doing; until I came to doorway. There it was, a little brown, faded, haloed, spot above doorframe. As hard as I tried, with all my might, to scrub it off I could not remove it. "Hmm. Wait a minute. What is going on here?" I asked myself.

I tried everything (every kind of detergent, oil soap, all-purpose cleaner I could find) but nothing, absolutely nothing, would work. Oh, well, I'll just have to paint over it, I guess. It wasn't like it was whole wall or anything. It was only a little brown spot, above door, that stood mocking me. So, I went on, about my way, scrubbing walls until I happened to glance up at next-door frame and there it was, again; that same curious, little, brown, faded, haloed, spot!

This was really beginning to get weird, now. What on earth was going on? Why would dust fairy leave her calling card just above my doorway and nowhere else? And why, for life of me, can’t I get it off?