Looking back

We’d gotten off on a tangent, not an unusual event for a radio interview, perhaps especially one with Cardinal George. Father Greg Sakowicz and I were talking with the cardinal for one of the regular radio shows we do on Catholic Community of Faith (tune us in, Monday and Friday, 1 p.m., AM1240 and AM1470. See Page 32 for more information).

I forget now what our original topic was. But the tangent was about aging—about getting older. I reeled off the old joke that life is “like a roll of toilet paper—it goes faster as you get toward the end.”

About halfway through the one-liner, part of my brain flashed a warning—“uh, you dummy, is this appropriate material for a radio show, especially with the cardinal?” Not surprisingly, I ignored the warning.

Father Greg looked at me across his microphone, wondering what was coming next. But what came next was a howl of laughter from Cardinal George, and we went on talking about age.

The second we went off the air, the cardinal launched into a lengthy German-language paragraph. Luckily, he translated, and said it was an earthy proverb not unlike my toilet-paper monologue.

There are a couple of truths to be gained from that interchange:

Cardinal George is scholarly, erudite and may have more sense than I about saying questionable things on the air.

On the other hand, he’s approachable, open and has a great sense of humor—qualities which sometimes can get lost in the swirl of day-to-day life.

That’s only one of the swirl of experiences in the five years of working with Cardinal George.

Five years is a long time (unless your personal toilet roll is spinning faster, as mine seems to these days), but there are a lot of events to look back on. Many are detailed in the accompanying special section marking those five years. I urge you to read it and even look at the advertisers who help support the section—and The Catholic New World. Many people, agencies and businesses wanted to let their voice—and their sentiments—be heard as we marked this occasion. The special section is packed with them, and there’s an overflow in this section—the main part of the newspaper—as well.

Actually, I wasn’t there at the beginning, joining the archdiocese a few months later. Nevertheless, I think I got a different—and better—perspective of the man who would become cardinal on the day of his installation as archbishop of Chicago.

I was still working for the Chicago Sun-Times, covering the ceremony. With much pomp, the long line of concelebrating bishops, priests, clerical and other dignitaries had wound its way around and into Holy Name Cathedral. Inside, the crowd was waiting for the historic celebration to begin—Chicago would once again have a shepherd more than five long months after losing its beloved Cardinal Bernardin.

The cameras were inside, so were the reporters, the commentators—all were ready to record the event.

I lingered outside; I knew I’d miss nothing, even though an afternoon edition deadline was approaching.

No one else was there, outside of a smattering of cops, unaware passersby and one seemingly lonely figure dressed in white standing at the foot of the steps leading up to Holy Name Cathedral.

It was Cardinal—then archbishop-designate—George of Chicago. He stood alone. No retinue, attending clergy, no glad-handers. Just him. Alone. Waiting for a cue to begin the impressive liturgy.

At an unseen signal, the lone figure slowly moved up the steps, one at a time. The celebration—and his service—had begun. But the image of a leader who must stand alone, even in the midst of others, never left me.

Tom Sheridan
Editor and General Manager