Missing football no sin if Italy’s the gameplan
The view of the square looking down from the cupola of Saint Peter’s Basilica.
The Vatican in Rome
The chair of Saint Peter in the basilica
To sneak away for vacation during the football season is a sin. But to travel to Italy from late September to early October was a miracle.
When I moved into my new home three years ago, Dr. Henry Freedy and his wife, Judy, told me that I better start saving my pennies if I was to make good on my promise to Heidi Potter that I would visit Rome when her son was ordained. Heidi and I share more than an interest in Adam and his faith. We both lost a parent, her mother and my father, on Feb. 2, which to the devout is the Feast of the Presentation, and to the not-so religious – Groundhog Day.
On the last Saturday in June, I drove passed the Freedy’s home on my way to the Mt. Lebanon swimming pool. Judy flagged me down. “I have to talk to you girl,” she yelled. Naturally, I stopped and in our conversation, she asked, “By the way, where are you going on vacation this summer,” since she knows I am always off an adventure somewhere. “Nowhere,” I replied. “Remember, I am saving my pennies for when Adam is ordained.”
“That’s this October,” she cried.
Confused, I said, “I thought he becomes a priest in 2016.”
Yes, Adam Potter will be ordained a priest the last Saturday in June of next year right here in Pittsburgh at St. Paul’s Cathedral, but he was to be ordained a deacon in Rome because he is a student at the Pontifical North American College. Hank Freedy handed me the flyer regarding a “pilgrimage” that St. Bernard Church was conducting for the Diaconate Ordination of Adam. Advised by Father Dave Bonnar to “move quickly,” I called Proxima Travel, which, thanks to Maria Sariabella, was handling the trip details, and became what they told all the late signees, “You are the last person on the 50-seat bus.” In reality, there were more than 50 pilgrims but only one vacationer as this would be my only opportunity to visit the country shaped like a boot, my favorite footwear next to tennis shoes. But then, I did touch the foot of St. Peter, assuring me a return visit. So who knows? As they say, God works in mysterious ways.
Because Hank and Judy are neighbors in the community, they drove Father Jeremiah O’Shea, a retired priest who served at one time at St. Valentine Church in Bethel Park, and me to the airport. Once there, I began employing the secrets I learned from Dale Carnegie’s course on “How To Make Friends and Influence People.” It was simple.
Janice and Chris Caruso were the first couple I encountered and it was easy to associate the initials of their first names to their savior. Next, I met Annette Long and her husband, Gary Luchini. Annette knew the Zanzuccki family from her college days. “Dr. Zan,” who passed away Sept. 18 at the age of 99, was a professor at St. Francis in Loretto. He taught her well as she began her CPA career with Coopers & Lybrand. The firm also hired her roommate, Louise Zanzuccki, who also happened to room with my sister, Patricia Ward, in college. Louise is also related to one of my in-laws, Linda Myron. Immediately, I thought of another in-law, Lillian Bailey, who hails from Uniontown and attended Albert Gallatin High School. Thus, the association cemented Annette and Gary in my mind forever.
But, I learned quickly there was another connection with all the new acquaintances I was about to make. Somewhere along the way, I had written something about their relatives in The Almanac.
For example, Hank and Judy had two sons, Tucker and Joe, that played football for Bethel Park High School. After a standout career as a quarterback for the University of Buffalo, Joe received the call to play in God’s NFL. He studied in Rome and became a priest. He joined our group for the ordination.
Mark and Barb Susco as well as Carol and James Plake, who brought along their son, Jimmy, made the journey, too. The Suscos have four athletic children with the best being Lauren. The Seton-La Salle graduate was a female Athlete of the Year finalist for The Almanac. The Plakes had two daughters, Julie and Joanie, who excelled at lacrosse and basketball at Mt. Lebanon. Plus, Mr. Plake happens to be the executive vice president and CFO of the Pittsburgh Pirates. Throughout the trip, he would keep the faithful, none of whom were versed in the benefits of Twitter, apprised of the Bucs’ progress towards clinching home-field advantage for last week’s wild-card playoff game.
The plane ride had its connections, too. On board the flight to Philadelphia was none other than T.J. McConnell. The Chartiers Valley product, who led Arizona to the Final Four in basketball, was traveling the first leg of the journey, bound for a tryout with the 76ers. For the 8-hour flight across the Atlantic, my seatmates were James and Sue Lyle. James is the brother of David Lyle, the CFO of my employer, the Observer Publishing Company. Two years ago, Sue converted to Catholicism.
Our arrival in Italy began inauspiciously as thieves stole luggage as the suitcases were taken off the tour bus and placed on the sidewalk awaiting a porter, of which the Hotel dei Consoli Vaticano had none.
Eileen Schilken and Nancie Ranalli, it turns out, go way back to my early days at The Almanac. While I missed covering Dr. Robert Schilken’s football playing career at Mt. Lebanon, I had the pleasure of following Meghan Schilken. Eileen’s granddaughter was a sensational swimmer at Lebo. She is now setting the standards at William and Mary.
Nancie, meanwhile, is married to Tony Ranalli, the long-time scorekeeper for the boys’ and girls’ basketball teams at Mt. Lebanon. He’s also a baseball fanatic. So this trip to Rome was Nancie’s version of his annual fantasy camps and nothing would dampen her dream experience. She took the baggage theft in stride. “What are you going to do?” she said with a shrug.
And like true apostles, they entered Rome with just the clothes on their backs and were welcomed by strangers, who in less than a week would become friends.
No truer allies could be found than Kathy and Rudy Berty. The couple had two children, Monica and Michael, both of whom swam for Bethel Park’s championship clubs. As interlopers from St. Thomas More and St. Germaine churches, we forged a bond as dining mates and confidants along with my roommate, Philene Revistky, with whom I got into too many adventures. Alas, that is a column for another day.
After the first of many Gelatos and sumptuous meals, consisting of appetizers, pasta, pounded veal with salad, complimented by red and white wine and smooth limoncello, not to mention a midnight stroll to view the Harvest Moon, we embarked on our pilgrimage. With Valentina Musella as the guide and Fr. Bonnar as the manager with his assistant coaches, Father O’Shea and Father Michael John Lyman from Madonna del Castello Parish in Swissvale, we took Rome by storm, visiting St. Peter’s Basilica, the Vatican Museums and the Sistine Chapel. It is a day in which some of us ventured outside of our comfort zone, faced our fears, and scaled the cupola with Sharon and Benedict “Bud” Serratore. Sharon graduated from Chartiers Valley, where she played tennis for the Colts while Bud played drums in the Baldwin High School marching band. The climb to the top, though not as high as the Eiffel Tower, rewarded us with spectacular views surrounding Vatican City.
The day trip to Assisi was relaxed and reminiscent of being back home in Pittsburgh. There are steep, yet peaceful, narrow streets to climb to see the tombs of St. Francis and St. Clare. While highlights in the small village near Grecio were viewing the original Christmas crèche created in 1223 by St. Francis and hearing the legend of how he talked to the hungry wolf. The main attraction was riding a funicular similar to the Mon Incline to Orvieto to see the Duomo and the Eucharistic Miracle of Bolseno.
With artifacts, from Rosary beads to other trinkets purchased at the many gift shops, the faithful flocked to the Vatican for its 10 a.m. audience with the Pope. To get good seats, one must rise early. To kill time, Chris Caruso regaled us with stories from his glory days growing up on Chicken Hill, not to be confused with Willie Stargell’s chicken on the hill. Back in the day, when he and his mates played baseball in the park, they pretended to be the Pirates, each adopting the name of the pro for the position they played. A man stumbled upon the group and asked if he could join them. “Yes,” the group of boys said. “We need a pitcher, so you can be Steve Blass.”
The stranger replied, “That’s good, because I am Steve Blass.”
When Caruso came to bat, he socked a home run off his boyhood idol. He kept the baseball. Years later, Blass signed the souvenir.
Hours later, Caruso and the travelers would have more cherished memories and mementos. Pope Francis, as he passed in his mobile, left some in tears and others exhilarated as the Beatles did when they arrived in America 51 years ago.
After such an experience, an afternoon viewing the Trevi Fountain (under construction), the Spanish Steps, where the Romans hung out, the Pantheon, the Piazza Navona and yes, even a Steelers’ Bar, would prove an emotional letdown for the visitors.
Spirits, however, soared on Oct. 1, the day of Diaconal Ordination, celebrated by His Eminence Timothy Cardinal Dolan at the Altar of the Chair at the Papal Basilica of St. Peter. Thanks to Sue Ann Eckhardt, the wife of Deacon Fred, who would participate in the ceremony, Philene and I had the best seats to view the ceremony, one row behind the reserved section. A kind usher even let me advance further to snap a few photos when they announced the candidates to be ordained. When another photo op presented itself, the pleasant usher was no longer in sight. So I asked his replacement to move forward once again. Expecting a similar reply, I had to laugh when I was told, “We have professional photographers covering this event. Just enjoy the ceremony.”
In truth, I did enjoy the ceremony as well as attending his first Mass as a deacon the following day at St. Paul Outside the Wall. These two events inspired me more than seeing the Pope. For this, Adam was created. Anybody who saw his face could sense that.
Anybody who saw Ed Kapsha that morning could see he was in heaven, too. He made the journey to Rome with his wife, Jessica, who sings in the choir at St. Bernard Church. During Adam’s first Mass, Ed had the honor of playing the organ at the basilica, which is the second largest in Rome and fifth biggest in the world.
Despite a transportation strike, the flock managed to visit St. Mary Major, the main basilica dedicated to Mary in Rome, as well as St. John Lateran, the first basilica built in the Roman Empire; see the remains of Jesus’ manager and St. Matthew the Evangelist; tour the Catacombs, where 500,000 people are buried; and take in the tombs of Bernini and St. Jerome.
By Friday, however, I had a strong yearning to return home. Perhaps it had something to do with football.
But, Adam had been ordained. He bestowed his first blessing upon the food we were about to receive at a reception dinner in his honor. He had delivered his first homily about the angels that guard and guide our lives and distributed Holy Communion at his first Mass as a deacon. So what more could be desired other than a trip to see the ancient Roman ruins, including the Coliseum, before returning home to continue my small mission here on Earth, to use my talents in a positive manner to promote God’s children. And as they say in language better understood than Italian or Latin, this pilgrim, indeed, came, saw and conquered.