Chicago celebrates its native son's elevation to pope
Even so, the derelict structures stand as a silent reminder to the new pontiff's deep, longstanding ties to the city and the second-largest Catholic archdiocese in the United States.
Former Cardinal Robert Prevost stunned his hometown on Thursday when the Vatican announced that the 69-year-old Chicago native had been chosen as the first U.S.-born pontiff in the 2,000-year history of the Catholic Church.
His selection unleashed celebration among Catholics in the Midwestern city and a flurry of questions about the future of his papacy, from how it would shape the divide between church conservatives and liberals to whether he was a fan of the Chicago Cubs or their rivals, the White Sox.
'For Catholics in Chicago, this is somebody who gets us, who knows us, who knows our experience, seeing the closures and the dwindling congregations, and the diminishing Catholic presence in America in general," said Father Michael Pfleger, a priest at St. Sabina Catholic Church on Chicago's South Side known for his political activism.
A crowd of clergy and staff members at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago's Hyde Park, where the future pontiff obtained his master's degree in divinity in 1982, erupted in joyful cheers as live television showed Pope Leo walking out onto the Vatican balcony in Rome.
"Many of us were just simply incredulous and just couldn't even find words to express our delight, our pride," said Sister Barbara Reid, the president of the theology school. She said the "explosion of excitement" was followed by quiet as the room fell into prayer for the new pope.
Reid described Pope Leo as a brilliant intellectual and a person of extraordinary compassion.
"It's an unusual blend that makes him a leader who can think critically, but listens to the cries of the poorest, and always has in mind those who are most needy," she said.
Lawrence Sullivan, the vicar general for the Archdiocese of Chicago, its 1.9 million Catholics and 216 parishes, said Pope Leo was also a very prayerful and spiritual man.
"It's a day of great excitement for Chicago, for the United States to have one of our own be elected as the pope," he said.
Chicago Mayor Brandon Johnson, in remarks posted on social media, was more plain-spoken in his exuberance, declaring: "Everything dope, including the Pope, comes from Chicago!"
The pope-to-be, by all accounts an exceptional student as a youngster, grew up in the old St. Mary of Assumption parish at the far southern edge of Chicago, attending grade school there and serving as an altar boy.
He later studied at the novitiate of the Order of Saint Augustine in St. Louis, according to the Catholic Conference of Illinois, before graduating from Villanova University near Philadelphia in 1977 with a degree in mathematics.
He then returned to Chicago to attend divinity school and joined the Augustinian religious order. When he was newly ordained he celebrated mass in his home parish, St. Mary of the Assumption. Since then he has spent the majority of his career overseas, mainly in Peru.
His family's parish, situated in a leafy area on the far South Side near the Little Calumet River, has long been shuttered, tattered curtains fluttering in the red brick building's shattered windows. Blocks of clapboard houses and Protestant churches surrounding the church - which closed when the archdiocese consolidated parishes - were quiet on Thursday afternoon.
In a goodwill gesture in keeping with the atmosphere of excitement on Thursday, the Chicago Cubs said they had invited the new pope to Wrigley Field to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," a seventh-inning tradition led by a different celebrity at every home game.
The storied Major League Baseball team said they could not confirm that Pope Leo was a Cubs fan. His brother, John Prevost, who lives in New Lenox southwest of Chicago, said the new pontiff was not.
Residents of Chicago's South Side tend to favor the Cubs' cross-town rivals, the White Sox.
Kevin Schultz, professor of history and Catholic studies at the University of Illinois at Chicago, said Leo's ascendancy would inject energy and excitement into an archdiocese whose community is defined by an array of ethnicities and languages and is increasingly shaped by migrants from Latin America.
"We are in the forefront of the changing dynamic of the church throughout the world, with our increasing number of immigrants constituting a larger and larger percentage of the Catholic population in the archdiocese of Chicago," Schultz said.
The rise of the Chicago-born priest to the papacy was not without controversy.
In 2023, survivors of clergy sex abuse filed a complaint with the Vatican over Prevost and others after the Chicago-based chapter of the Augustinian order that Prevost once led paid a $2 million settlement over rape accusations by a priest whose name was left off a public list of sex offenders.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Daily Mail
3 hours ago
- Daily Mail
From teen mom to raising a billionaire: How Jacklyn Bezos' selfless sacrifices over the years secured son Jeff's Amazon success
Behind every great man is a great woman, so the saying goes. And in Jeff Bezos ' case that woman was his mother Jacklyn Bezos, who died peacefully at her home this week at the age of 78. Today, her son is one of the world's wealthiest men, but his beginnings were a lot more humble. It is largely thanks to the tireless sacrifice of his mother that he is able to sit atop his Amazon empire. It is a sentiment not lost on the billionaire CEO, who acknowledged Jacklyn's monumental place in his life in an emotional post announcing her death. 'After a long fight with Lewy Body Dementia, she passed away today, surrounded by so many of us who loved her — her kids, grandkids, and my dad,' Jeff wrote. 'I know she felt our love in those final moments. We were all so lucky to be in her life. I hold her safe in my heart forever.' While it may have been Bezos' luck to have her as a mother, it was Jacklyn's grit and belief in her son which turned her fortunes around from struggling teen mom to one of the first investors in one of the biggest companies in the world. Jacklyn was born in Washington, DC, and grew up in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where, as a high school student, she met Jeff's biological father, Ted Jorgensen, according to the Bezos Scholars Program. She gave birth to the Amazon founder at 17 years old shortly after marrying Jorgensen, but the two divorced shortly after. 'My mom, Jackie, had me when she was a 17-year-old high school student in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Being pregnant in high school was not popular in Albuquerque in 1964. It was difficult for her,' Jeff said in a 2020 congressional hearing. 'When they tried to kick her out of school, my grandfather went to bat for her. After some negotiation, the principal said, "OK, she can stay and finish high school, but she can't do any extracurricular activities, and she can't have a locker". 'My grandfather took the deal, and my mother finished high school, though she wasn't allowed to walk across the stage with her classmates to get her diploma.' As a young, single mom, she started taking night classes while also working at a bank during the day. 'Determined to keep up with her education, she enrolled in night school, picking classes led by professors who would let her bring an infant to class,' Jeff said. 'She would show up with two duffel bags—one full of textbooks, and one packed with diapers, bottles, and anything that would keep me interested and quiet for a few minutes.' Her shift at the bank overlapped with a young Cuban immigrant, Miguel 'Mike' Bezos, where the two met and fell in love. The couple eventually married, and Miguel adopted Jeff. They also had two children together, Christina and Mark. Jacklyn and Miguel went on to invest just under $250,000 into Amazon in 1995 to help their son with his new company. 'They weren't making a bet on Amazon or the concept of a bookstore on the internet. They were making a bet on their son,' Jeff said. 'I told them that I thought there was a 70 percent chance they would lose their investment, and they did it anyway.' The sum that they lent him was considered not just a huge amount but also a massive risk, as people were still skeptical of the internet. But the gamble paid off, as their son is now worth over $243 billion, while Amazon is a $2 trillion company. Bezos spoke about the original investment his parents gave him at a 2015 event, recalling telling them: 'I want you to know how risky this is. 'Because I want to come home at dinner for Thanksgiving and I don't want you to be mad at me.' It is unclear how much stock they still hold in the company; they donated just under 600,000 shares to the Bezos Family Foundation from 2001 to 2016, according to filings. In 2022, Bezos helped his parents snap up a six-bedroom, seven-bathroom waterfront Miami mansion in 2022 for $34 million. The property was bought by a Delaware company linked to Bezos' parents with the help of a $5 million loan from the Bank of America. Jeff added to his own tribute: 'Her adulthood started a little bit early when she became my mom at the tender age of 17. 'That couldn't have been easy, but she made it all work. She pounced on the job of loving me with ferocity, brought my amazing dad onto the team a few years later, and then added my sister and brother to her list of people to love, guard, and nourish.
The Independent
3 hours ago
- The Independent
Another gold rush could bring open pit mines to South Dakota's Black Hills
A gold rush brought settlers to South Dakota 's Black Hills roughly 150 years ago, chasing the dream of wealth and displacing Native Americans in the process. Now, a new crop of miners driven by gold prices at more than $3,000 an ounce are seeking to return to the treasured landscape, promising an economic boost while raising fears of how modern gold extraction could forever change the region. 'These impacts can be long term and make it so that tourism and outdoor recreation is negatively impacted,' said Lilias Jarding, executive director of the Black Hills Clean Water Alliance. 'Our enjoyment of the Black Hills as a peaceful place, a sacred place, is disturbed.' The Black Hills encompass over 1.2 million acres (485,622 hectares), rising up from the Great Plains in southwest South Dakota and extending into Wyoming. The jagged peaks are smaller than those of the Rocky Mountains, but the lush pine-covered hills are sacred to the Lakota Sioux people and serve as a destination for millions of tourists who visit Mount Rushmore and state parks. Dramatic landscape changes come with modern mining One gold mine now operates in the Black Hills, but companies have proposals before state and federal agencies for another one, plus exploratory drilling sites that they hope will lead to full-fledged mines. That has prompted opposition by Native American tribes and environmentalists who argue the projects are close to sacred sites, will contaminate waterways and permanently scar the landscape. Gold extraction has changed dramatically in the decades since prospectors first began panning for gold in the Black Hills. The industry now typically relies on massive trucks and diggers that create deep, multitiered pits and use chemicals like cyanide to extract the gold. The land can never return to its original state. The Homestake mine, once the largest and deepest gold mine in the Western Hemisphere, now sits barren in Lead, South Dakota, and is used for scientific research. Interest in Black Hills gold mining has soared along with the price of the metal. When the Homestake mine closed in 2002, gold sold for about $300 an ounce. Now it goes for about 10 times as much. Joseph Cavatoni, senior market strategist at the World Gold Council, attributes the price spike to global economic uncertainty. 'Gold tends to be a stable asset,' he said. 'That actually performs well in inflationary times, and holds its value in recessionary times. That's why gold as an asset in investment.' President Donald Trump also boosted the industry by issuing an executive order in March to increase American mineral production, calling for expedited permitting and reviews. Colin Paterson, professor emeritus of geological engineering at the South Dakota School of Mines and Technology, notes that Black Hills gold is encased in rock. To extract it, the rock is crushed and then a chemical like cyanide is used to dissolve the mineral and remove it. Mining brings revenue, but renews Black Hills fight Coeur Mining runs the single active mine in the Black Hills, but the company Dakota Gold has plans for an open pit mine to begin operating in 2029. The company is also targeting the area near the old Homestake site to build an underground mine where workers would descend hundreds or even thousands of feet into shafts. Jack Henris, president and chief operating officer of Dakota Gold, estimated the open pit mine would create up to 250 jobs and result in the company paying the state up to $400 million in taxes over the life of the mine. Dakota Gold will conduct an environmental study and surveys of soil and vegetation to ensure safe operation, Henris said. 'Most of the people that work here are from this area and just love to live here,' he said. 'So we're a big part of the Hills and we love them just as much as other folks.' To a great extent, gold mining helped create the modern Black Hills region. The U.S. government signed a treaty in 1868 that recognized the Sioux Nation's right to the Black Hills, but the government seized the land after the discovery of gold and allowed settlers into the region. The U.S. Supreme Court later ruled the Sioux were entitled to compensation, but they have not accepted any and maintain their claim to the land. Tribes have largely opposed mining in the Black Hills. 'There's a central truth about mining in the Black Hills in that it was never the most mineral rich place there ever was,' said Taylor Gunhammer, local organizer with the Indigenous advocacy group NDN Collective and an Oglala Sioux, one of the Lakota people. 'It's not even the actual mineral content of the Black Hills that is so attractive to mining companies. It's the permissive nature of the officials who oversee mining.' Some proposed projects, such as Dakota Gold's mine, are on private land and only subject to state rules, not the U.S. Forest Service regulations required for projects on public acreage. Environmentalists have focused their opposition on the possibility of chemicals leaks. They note that Coeur's Wharf mine has had nearly 200 spills and that the former Homestake mine was closed because it contaminated a nearby creek. Coeur's environmental manager, Jasmine McCauley, said in a statement that each spill was "thoroughly investigated, mitigated, and corrective actions are put in place to prevent reoccurrence.' The company is always improving its processes, she added. Jarding, of the Black Hills Clean Water Alliance, said she remains concerned about the number of projects in the works. 'It's really important that people understand the exponential growth in mining activity that's been happening in the Black Hills over the last five years or so,' Jarding said. "There are currently active mining claims on 271,000 acres in the Black Hills. That's 20% of the whole Black Hills that is potentially going to be subject to mining.'
The Guardian
17 hours ago
- The Guardian
‘Didn't have a pillow': the program kitting out foster students starting college
When Ar'reiona Green was accepted to Sacramento State last year, she knew she would need books and school supplies. She didn't expect to need a toolbox. Or hangers. Or that her dorm room wouldn't come with a fan or a lamp. Like many first-year students, Green, who is headed into her sophomore year and plans to become a plastic surgeon, was excited about her future adventures. But coming up through the foster system in California, she didn't know anyone who had gone to college. While she felt ready for her classes, life as a college student was mostly mysterious except for what she'd seen online. That's where Dec My Dorm stepped in. The program works with more than 140 foster youth headed to college, hosting an annual event in July to kit out each student with sheet sets, pillows, a shower caddy and connections to other people in the same situation. Green took part in the summer of 2024, leaving with several duffel bags filled with the things she needed, including many items she didn't know she would need, like dish soap. 'I was expecting bed stuff and towels,' Green said. 'I wasn't expecting them to give me period products and school supplies. They were giving out school merch and stepping stools and toolboxes. They really went above and beyond.' The program started in 2018 when Jill Franklin, a program manager of the Independent Living Program for the department of children and family services in Los Angeles county, met a student who came from the foster system. The young woman described arriving at the University of California at Berkeley with just a trash bag, not knowing that dorm rooms are spartan affairs with a desk, chair, bed with an oddly sized mattress – and that's it. 'She didn't have a pillow or a sheet or a towel, and everybody else was there with their parents and their bags of stuff,' Franklin said. 'At the time, I was editing college essays and I realized, we never ever thought about that first day.' Franklin started with a small Amazon wishlist and a handful of students. It was particularly important that the kids were involved in the process as much as possible, she said, because they were used to living in spaces that were not their own. 'You might have a 17-year-old who's on the football team and says: 'I don't want Minnie Mouse sheets,' but oh well, that's what it is, and they probably aren't going to be there for very long and it's not their bedroom,' said Franklin. 'It was very important that they pick their own bedding, their own towels and their own blankets, so that when they walk in that room, or someone else walks in that room, it says: 'This is who I am.'' In 2022, she met Phyllis Shinbane, who had retired as director of operations from Connecting a Caring Community, a non-profit organization based in Calabasas, California. Like many people, Shinbane had been unaware that foster youth often have nothing they can bring with them to college, but realized this was a need she could help fill. Along with CCC's executive director, Lisa Kodimer, and the Dec My Dorm co-chair Allison Weiss, they raised more than $40,000 in donations and connected with sponsors and volunteers to help 142 students in 2025. 'It's just leveling the playing field,' said Shinbane, who hopes to expand the program to other states. 'It's just putting them in a room where they're equal, where they're not different, where their past doesn't define them, that they are the same as every other college student that came from a supportive, structured, safe home.' Eight per cent to 11% of people in foster care obtain a bachelor's degree, said Sarah Wasch, associate director of the Field Center for Children's Policy, Practice & Research at the University of Pennsylvania. Although most people in foster care can remain in the system until they are at least 21 years old, many foster parents don't have the funds to furnish a dorm room. 'There's a disconnect around who is responsible to oversee that transition,' Wasch said. 'For youth in foster care, it's very unclear if it's the foster family's responsibility, the case manager's, the court's or the legal guardian's.' While some states have programs addressing foster care and higher education, efforts remain piecemeal and there are plenty of gaps to fill, like dorm room needs and storage over summers, she said. Most colleges have support systems specifically aimed at supporting students who come from the foster system, like the Guardian Scholars program in California. Those focus mainly on financial support for tuition and meals, and advising for classes, not for student life. At one point, legislation was introduced to create a federal center that would coordinate state efforts, but it did not pass, Wasch said. Kelisha Williams, a foster student from Kentucky who graduated from Harvard University last spring, said she wished there had been a program like Dec My Dorm when she was going to school. Although Harvard provided a list of dorm room essentials, she watched a lot of YouTube videos to figure out what she would need to fit in and worked to save the money. She emphasized that it's not just about having the essentials, like a shower caddy and a bar of soap. Not having those things could make foster students feel like they don't belong. 'I knew that was going to be a big hurdle, and I did not want anyone to know that I was not like them, or that I didn't deserve to be there,' Williams, 22, said. 'So I kind of just made sure that I worked the summer before to have everything that I needed, even, you know, if it was kind of plush objects like posters and things like that.' Shinbane said that many volunteers were enthusiastic about going with students to set up their dorm rooms, if desired, but there were legal concerns about privacy. The organization offers other resources, like free eye-screening and glasses, and providing students with a resource folder with QR codes linking students to food assistance, clothing programs and campus support. They invite former participants to come meet the new class headed to college, so they can offer advice and support. 'This program is like a living, breathing thing,' Shinbane said. 'It evolves every year, and our goal is to provide them with services and resources to help ensure their success.'
