This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Temple chapter.
The weekend of Sept. 25, 2015 in Philadelphia was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. For over
a year the city prepared for the visit of arguably the most admired leader of the Catholic
Church: Pope Francis.
It was impossible to walk through Center City and not be reminded of his long awaited
arrival, as his face was plastered everywhere – from the windows of storefronts to the
banners flying high on light posts and the front pages of newspapers. Souvenir gifts such as
cardboard cutouts, plush figures, and Pope bobble heads encouraged residents to get
excited. The city shut itself down for the Pope’s arrival. We will never see the city like that
again.
Unlike most Temple students, I stayed in the city that weekend. Most of my friends and my
roommates left the city to go back to their hometowns. I didn’t understand why they would
want to miss an experience like this. On Friday, when Septa started to change its schedules
and roads were being closed, I rode my bike down to Center City to check out what was
happening.
Riding down the middle of Broad Street not having a care in the world was freeing and
relaxing. Cars weren’t zooming past me and I didn’t feel rushed to get to my destination.
Everywhere I looked there was some type of authoritative figure, whether it was a police
officer, border patrol officer, someone from SWAT team, or someone from the military.
Philadelphia felt like the safest place in the world that weekend.
Security stations were set up in front of City Hall equipped with TSA officials and metal
detectors. They went through bags thoroughly, even opening up my glasses case. It was like
airport security on steroids.
Walking around Center City was like a ghost town. There was an eerie silence that fell over
the city except for the music playing from somewhere over a loud speaker. There were
more police officers and security than civilians walking around. It was difficult to imagine
exactly what the next couple of days were going to be like.
Saturday came along and I was scheduled to work in Rittenhouse Square. I thought the city
was going to be mobbed and wasn’t sure exactly how long it would take me to get into the
city, so I left two hours before I was supposed to start my shift. To my surprise, it only took
me 25 minutes to get there, so I sat in the park and people-watched. Sitting on the benches
around me were some men who looked like they slept there overnight. A woman came up
to them with a box of Tastycakes and water bottles and handed them out. She left a bottle
of water next to the man sleeping on a bench across from me. This was the first of many
kind acts I would witness that day.
All day I was keeping up on Twitter about the Pope’s location and how the crowds were
looking. Work was slow, so I asked to leave early to try to get a good spot at the Pope
Parade. While waiting in line at security, there was a group of people playing instruments
and singing songs of worship in a foreign language. It lightened the mood and made the
wait to get through security more bearable. People were not pushing and shoving to get
through, but stood in line systematically and patiently. You could strike up a conversation
with anyone.
After security, the streets opened up and there was some room to roam around the city. I
chose my spot at 16th and JFK Boulevard, right next to Temple’s Center City campus. A
Jumbotron was sitting in front of me and I was able to watch the Pope give his speech about
religious freedom at Independence Hall.
In my opinion, part of what made this weekend so big is that a lot of people, Catholic or not,
can relate to some of the ideas the Pope expresses. He is reforming age-old ideas in the
church to catch up with the morals and ideas of the 21st century. It was amazing to see the
variety of people that waited hours just to catch a glimpse of him.
While waiting in the crowd a woman was holding a baby, it must have been less than a year
old. People around her started yelling, “She has a baby! Let her through!” and a path was
made for the mother and her child to walk to the front of the crowd in the hopes of the
Pope stopping to bless the baby. Later on in the night, an older woman with a walker was
led to the front of the crowd as well. The kindness the entire audience showed was unlike
anything I have seen before.
The parade started an hour and a half later than scheduled, so I was getting antsy standing
in the cold for what turned out to be three hours. But the second we saw the Pope riding
away from the Parkway towards 16th and JFK Boulevard, the wait was all worth it. My heart
started to race and my throat started to get tight with excitement. I was going to see the
Pope! The moment I had been waiting over a year for was just a few minutes away.
Cops on motorcycles led the parade along with shiny black cars and a long white truck.
Then Pope Francis rode by in his Pope Mobile. The crowd cheered and held their phones up
to try to snap a picture of him. He held his hand up towards the crowd and they went wild.
People were making the sign of the cross and wiping tears from under their eyes. In that
moment, everyone was happy. And then he was gone. He might have been gone physically
but his presence still lingered.
Sunday is when the real crowds filled the streets of Philadelphia. I woke up planning to go
to the mass on the Parkway, but according to the news and social media, the crowds were
much more dense than the day before. The pictures and the captions mentioning people
waiting in line for more than 4 hours intimidated me.
Do I regret not going to the mass? A little. However I am happy that I got to experience
most of Pope weekend and be in his presence when he rode by me. It is a memory I will
hold on to and an experience I will never forget.