
Pope Leo XIV's boyhood home in Dolton was on the market until Thursday. What comes next for the house?
When home rehabber Paweł Radzik bought a modest, three-bedroom ranch-style house in south suburban Dolton last year for $66,000, he saw it as a chance to do what he does best: make some upgrades and turn around and sell the property for a profit.
What Radzik did not know at the time of his purchase, however, was the home's divinely inspired origins.
The house, on East 141st Place in Dolton, was the boyhood home of Robert Prevost — now known to the world as Pope Leo XIV. Prevost's parents — Louis, a school administrator who died in 1997, and Mildred, a librarian who died in 1990 — had owned and lived in the brick house for decades. Louis Prevost sold the home in 1996 for $58,000.
The future pontiff lived in the house full-time until going off to a Michigan seminary for high school in 1969 and, following that, to college at Villanova University in 1973. His parents continued to live there, making the dwelling something of a home base for the young priest-in-training.
Now, with Prevost voted to become the first-ever pope from the United States, East 141st Place in Dolton has a landmark unlike no other in this country.
Needless to say, the excitement over the home's prior inhabitant has sparked some interest from buyers. Radzik, who is based in Homer Glen, first listed the house in January for $219,000. He cut his asking price to $205,000 later that month and then to $199,900 in February.
Radzik confirmed to the Tribune that in the wake of the announcement, he immediately received some offers for the house. However, he decided to take the home off the market Thursday, after Leo XIV's selection and word got out that he and his family had resided there.
What comes next for the house remains to be seen. However, its provenance has given rise to speculation that a buyer might pay a premium to own a home with such a unique prior resident. Whether local officials would permit the conversion of the house to a museum commemorating Leo XIV, for example, also is unclear.
At the moment, Radzik is cautiously evaluating potential opportunities involving the home.
'I got a little lucky, eh?' Radzik said Friday. 'I don't know what I want to do — I gotta play it smart. I have a few options. I gotta see what is the best option for me. I gotta do it smart. I'm not in a rush to sell. I want to take it slow.'
A Catholic himself, Radzik immigrated to the U.S. from Poland in 2006. He said the house 'was in pretty bad shape when I bought it.'
'I would say 80% of it is new — new flooring, new cabinets, new plumbing, new electrical, new kitchen,' he said.
Asked if the house contains any remnants from the Prevost family's ownership, Radzik said: 'It's hard to say. It was (so many) years ago (that they owned it). I would say zero.'
Radzik wasn't the only one surprised by the pontiff's family's onetime ownership of the Dolton house. Guillermina Terrell of Homewood owned the home with her husband from 2018 until 2024, when they sold it to Radzik. While Terrell and her husband never lived in the house — the couple bought it for use by her mother-in-law, who now has passed away — Terrell was stunned to learn of the ranch style-home's prior inhabitant.
'You're kidding. Oh my God, that's amazing,' Terrell said when informed that it was the pope's boyhood home. 'OK, I'm just mind-blown.'
Like Radzik, Terrell also is Catholic, and she noted that she has two priests in her family.
'I can't wait to tell my grandparents, because they are very devout Catholics,' she said.
Terrell said she saw no markers to indicate such a prominent prior resident.
'I mean, I can't say for sure that it was unique. It was bigger than it looked from the outside,' she said.
The Terrells bought the home in 2018 from a bank that had foreclosed on it from the family that bought it from the Prevost family. However, Terrell said she now feels 'like an inner peace' about having owned a home once inhabited by the 267th pope.
Dolton hopes ties to Pope Leo XIV will burnish town's image and spur growthAlthough church properties are exempt from property taxes, homes of future pontiffs are not necessarily blessed in that way. The Dolton house had a $7,235 property tax bill in the 2023.
Built in 1949, the house has two bathrooms, recessed lighting in the living room, a formal dining room, a center gallery staircase and a kitchen with a breakfast bar, custom white cabinetry, granite countertops, stainless-steel appliances and multi-level lighting. Other features include a full bath with a Jacuzzi tub on the first floor, a second full bathroom upstairs and a finished basement with a laundry room and exterior access. The house has new porches, new siding, new doors and a new garage roof.

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Chicago Tribune
6 hours ago
- Chicago Tribune
Chicago fire: Flaming saganaki sparks interest worldwide decades after its Greektown origin
Last winter, at Chicago's Greek Islands (200 S. Halsted St.), our Greektown dinner started with a bang — more accurately, a whoosh. A server carried a small black pan of blazing cheese to the table as startled diners burst into applause for what is the Windy City's notoriously combustible appetizer: flaming saganaki. In Chicago, the dish is a ritual. It's dramatic, it's delicious, and — let's be honest — it's also a little absurd in the best possible way. The word saganaki comes from sagani, a small, two-handled Greek pan. In Greece, the dish is straightforward: firm, dry cheeses such as kasseri, feta or halloumi are pan-fried until golden. No fire. No flair. Just cheese doing what cheese does best, served with crusty bread. In Chicago, we lightly coat the square or triangular cut of cheese in flour and fry it in a little olive oil until crisp and golden. Then we flip it once, warm it through, splash it with brandy (usually ouzo or Metaxa), light it up, and before setting it on the table, flamboyantly extinguish the flames with a lemon squeeze and a hearty shout of 'Opa!' That word — part cheer, part celebration, part call to 'let's dance!' — adds the perfect exclamation point. So, where did this fiery tradition begin? Depends on whom you ask. Chris Liakouras of the now-shuttered Parthenon restaurant claimed in a 1979 Tribune interview that he invented flaming saganaki in 1968. He described sitting at a table with three friends when the idea for a new menu item was born. 'Why don't you try flaming the cheese?' one of the ladies suggested. And just like that, an appetizer exploded into legend. But Petros Kogeones of Diana's, another Greektown fixture, had a different story. In 1991, he told the Tribune that he and his brother were flambéing cheese as far back as the early 1960s. According to Kogeones, they'd set up tables outside their family grocery, splash brandy on sizzling cheese, light it all on fire, and shout 'Opa!' Eventually, perhaps to stake his claim, Kogeones even renamed the restaurant Diana's Opa. Regardless of who struck the first match to brandy-doused cheese, one thing is clear: Flaming saganaki was a hit. And honestly, when we're traveling and we order saganaki, we're always a little disappointed when it doesn't arrive in a ball of fire. There is, however, increasingly little chance of being served saganaki sans flames, at least in the U.S.: Restaurants from Brooklyn to Malibu are figuring out that brandy and a match might be the not-so-secret ingredients to serving a lot of the crowd-pleasing saganaki. 'The flames were a smart marketing idea,' says Louie Alexakis, owner of the Avli restaurants in Chicago. 'In the 1950s and '60s, a lot of Greek restaurant workers in Chicago had fine dining backgrounds. They saw the wow factor of tableside flambé — things like crepes Suzette or bananas Foster. Flaming cheese was the next step.' Alexakis still flames saganaki at Avli, but also offers a more modern take: saganaki served with spiced fig chutney — still delicious, and less likely to set off the sprinklers. Not everyone is on board with this fiery New World opener to a traditional Greek dinner in Chicagoland. Ted Maglaris, founder of Mana in LaGrange (88 LaGrange Road), said, 'We chose not to flame our pan-fried saganaki but rather to honor the traditional Greek preparation, inspired by recipes from mothers in Greece, which is the inspiration for our restaurant's name, Mana. Flaming saganaki is a relatively recent tradition that began in Chicago, not in Greece. Our goal is to provide an authentic Greek experience, staying true to how saganaki is traditionally enjoyed in Greece.' Flashback: Memories of when Greektown was 'a mile long and 24 hours'With the current eagerness to sample 'authentic' preparations of Greek, Italian, Mexican and other traditional national foods, it's understandable that some restaurants might prefer to serve saganaki the way their mothers and grandmothers did, no matches or accelerants required. Other restaurants may be toning down the theatrics for safety reasons — turns out, flaming cheese and crowded dining rooms make for a risky combination. Somewhat surprisingly, flaming saganaki is now also catching on in Greece, especially in tourist-heavy restaurants, such as the Athens Yacht Club. Though such fiery presentations of cheese are not common in Greece, some travelers have come to expect saganaki to be flaming. And who can blame them? There's something undeniably fun about turning a simple cheese dish into a full-blown pyrotechnic display. Flaming saganaki isn't just food — it's dinner, entertainment, and a tiny adrenaline rush all in one.

a day ago
Raising school fees torments many Africans. Some expect the Catholic Church to do more to help
KAMPALA, Uganda -- A crying parent with an unpaid tuition balance walked into the staff room of a Catholic private school and begged the teachers to help enroll her son. The school's policy required the woman pay at least 60% of her son's full tuition bill before he could join the student body. She didn't have the money and was led away. 'She was pleading, 'Please help me,'' said Beatrice Akite, a teacher at St. Kizito Secondary School in Uganda's capital city, who witnessed the outburst. 'It was very embarrassing. We had never seen something like that.' Two weeks into second term, Akite recounted the woman's desperate moment to highlight how distressed parents are being crushed by unpredictable fees they can't pay, forcing their children to drop out of school. It's leaving many in sub-Saharan Africa — which has the world's highest dropout rates — to criticize the mission-driven Catholic Church for not doing enough to ease the financial pressure families face. The Catholic Church is the region's largest nongovernmental investor in education. Catholic schools have long been a pillar of affordable but high-quality education, especially for poor families. Their appeal remains strong even with competition from other nongovernmental investors now eying schools as enterprises for profit. The growing trend toward privatization is sparking concern that the Catholic Church may price out the people who need uplifting. Akite hopes Catholic leaders support measures that would streamline fees across schools of comparable quality. Firm fee ceilings need to be set, she said. Kampala's St. Kizito Secondary School, where Akite teaches literature, was founded by priests of the Comboni missionary order, known for its dedication to serving poor communities. Its students come mostly from working-class families and tuition per term is roughly $300, a substantial sum in a country where GDP per capita was about $1,000 in 2023. Yet that tuition is lower than at many other Catholic-run schools in Kampala, where many students report later in the term because they can't raise school fees in time, Akite said. One of the most expensive private schools in Kampala, the Catholic-run Uganda Martyrs' Secondary School Namugongo, maintains a policy of 'zero balance' when a child reports to school at the beginning of a three-month term. This means students must be fully paid by the time they report to school. Tuition at the school was once as high as $800 but has since dropped to about $600 as enrollment swelled to nearly 5,000, said deputy headmaster James Batte. On a recent morning, there was a queue of parents waiting outside Batte's office to request more time to clear tuition balances. Daniel Birungi, an electrical engineer in Kampala whose son enrolled this year at St. Mary's College Kisubi, a leading school for boys in Uganda, said the emerging risk for traditional Catholic schools is to cater only to the rich. There is hot water in the bathrooms, he said, describing what he felt was a trend toward levels of luxury he never imagined as a student there in the 1990s. Now, students are prohibited from packing snacks and instead encouraged to buy what they need from school-owned canteens, he said. That has 'put us under a lot of pressure,' he said. Tuition at St. Mary's College Kisubi is roughly $800 per term, and Birungi doubts he will be able to regularly pay school fees on time. 'You can go there and see the brother and negotiate,' he said, referring to the headmaster. 'I am planning to go there and see him and ask for that consideration.' The World Bank reported in 2023 that 54% of adults in sub-Saharan Africa rank the issue of paying school fees higher than medical bills and other expenses. That's partly because education is largely in private hands, with the most desirable schools controlled by profit-seeking owners. Schools run by the Catholic Church are not usually registered as profit-making entities, but those who run those schools say they wouldn't be competitive if they were run merely as charities. They say they face the same maintenance costs as others in the field and offer scholarships to exceptional students. Regulating tuition is not easy, said Ronald Reagan Okello, a priest who oversees education at the Catholic Secretariat in Kampala. He urges parents to send their children to schools they can afford. 'As the Catholic Church, also we are competing with those who are in the private sector,' said Okello, the national executive secretary for education with the Ugandan bishops conference. 'Now, as you are competing, the other ones are setting the bar high. They are giving you good services. But now putting the standard to that level, we are forced to raise the school fees to match the demands of the people who can afford.' Across the region, the Catholic Church has built a reputation as a key provider of formal education in areas often underserved by the state. Its schools are cherished by families of all means for their values, discipline and academic success. In Zimbabwe, the Catholic Church operates about 100 schools, ranging from dozens in impoverished areas where annual tuition is as low as $150 to elite boarding schools that can charge thousands of dollars. But a legacy of inclusion is under pressure in the southern African nation due to fee increases at boarding schools and efforts by Catholic leaders to fully privatize some schools. Many boarding schools already charge tuition fees between $600 and $800, prohibitive for the working class in a country where most civil servants make less than a $300 per month. Privatization will raise tuition fees even higher, warned Peter Muzawazi, a prominent educator in Zimbabwe. Muzawazi, who attended Catholic schools, once was the headmaster of Marist Brothers, a top Catholic school for boys in Zimbabwe. That school in Nyanga is among those earmarked for privatization. 'I know in the Catholic Church there is a lot of space for reasonable fees for day scholars, but for boarders there is need to be watching because the possibility that they would be out of reach for the vulnerable is there,' he said. The church needs to be actively engaged, he said. 'How do we continue to guarantee education for the poor?' Efforts to privatize church-founded schools have sparked debate in Zimbabwe, which for years has been in economic decline stemming in part from sanctions imposed by the U.S. and others. Authorities say privatizing these schools is necessary to maintain standards, even as critics warn Catholic leaders not to turn their backs on poor people. 'Schools have now turned into businesses,' Martin Chaburumunda, president of the Zimbabwe Rural Teachers' Union, told The Manica Post, a state-run weekly. 'Churches now appear only hungry for money as opposed to educating the communities they operate in." Rather than privatizing old mission schools, the church should invest in building new ones if it's useful to experiment with different funding models, said Muzawazi, a lay Catholic who serves on the governing council of the Catholic University of Zimbabwe. 'The bright people who advance the cause of countries are not the rich ones,' he said. 'We want every church and every nation to tap the potential of every person, regardless of economic status.' ___ Mutsaka reported from Harare, Zimbabwe.


Hamilton Spectator
a day ago
- Hamilton Spectator
Raising school fees torments many Africans. Some expect the Catholic Church to do more to help
KAMPALA, Uganda (AP) — A crying parent with an unpaid tuition balance walked into the staff room of a Catholic private school and begged the teachers to help enroll her son. The school's policy required the woman pay at least 60% of her son's full tuition bill before he could join the student body. She didn't have the money and was led away. 'She was pleading, 'Please help me,'' said Beatrice Akite, a teacher at St. Kizito Secondary School in Uganda's capital city, who witnessed the outburst. 'It was very embarrassing. We had never seen something like that.' Two weeks into second term, Akite recounted the woman's desperate moment to highlight how distressed parents are being crushed by unpredictable fees they can't pay, forcing their children to drop out of school. It's leaving many in sub-Saharan Africa — which has the world's highest dropout rates — to criticize the mission-driven Catholic Church for not doing enough to ease the financial pressure families face. Legacy of Catholic education across Africa The Catholic Church is the region's largest nongovernmental investor in education. Catholic schools have long been a pillar of affordable but high-quality education, especially for poor families. Their appeal remains strong even with competition from other nongovernmental investors now eying schools as enterprises for profit. The growing trend toward privatization is sparking concern that the Catholic Church may price out the people who need uplifting. Akite hopes Catholic leaders support measures that would streamline fees across schools of comparable quality. Firm fee ceilings need to be set, she said. Kampala's St. Kizito Secondary School, where Akite teaches literature, was founded by priests of the Comboni missionary order, known for its dedication to serving poor communities. Its students come mostly from working-class families and tuition per term is roughly $300, a substantial sum in a country where GDP per capita was about $1,000 in 2023. Yet that tuition is lower than at many other Catholic-run schools in Kampala, where many students report later in the term because they can't raise school fees in time, Akite said. Late starts, long lines, extension requests One of the most expensive private schools in Kampala, the Catholic-run Uganda Martyrs' Secondary School Namugongo, maintains a policy of 'zero balance' when a child reports to school at the beginning of a three-month term. This means students must be fully paid by the time they report to school. Tuition at the school was once as high as $800 but has since dropped to about $600 as enrollment swelled to nearly 5,000, said deputy headmaster James Batte. On a recent morning, there was a queue of parents waiting outside Batte's office to request more time to clear tuition balances. Daniel Birungi, an electrical engineer in Kampala whose son enrolled this year at St. Mary's College Kisubi, a leading school for boys in Uganda, said the emerging risk for traditional Catholic schools is to cater only to the rich. There is hot water in the bathrooms, he said, describing what he felt was a trend toward levels of luxury he never imagined as a student there in the 1990s. Now, students are prohibited from packing snacks and instead encouraged to buy what they need from school-owned canteens, he said. That has 'put us under a lot of pressure,' he said. Tuition at St. Mary's College Kisubi is roughly $800 per term, and Birungi doubts he will be able to regularly pay school fees on time. 'You can go there and see the brother and negotiate,' he said, referring to the headmaster. 'I am planning to go there and see him and ask for that consideration.' The effects of a private education system The World Bank reported in 2023 that 54% of adults in sub-Saharan Africa rank the issue of paying school fees higher than medical bills and other expenses. That's partly because education is largely in private hands, with the most desirable schools controlled by profit-seeking owners. Schools run by the Catholic Church are not usually registered as profit-making entities, but those who run those schools say they wouldn't be competitive if they were run merely as charities. They say they face the same maintenance costs as others in the field and offer scholarships to exceptional students. Regulating tuition is not easy, said Ronald Reagan Okello, a priest who oversees education at the Catholic Secretariat in Kampala. He urges parents to send their children to schools they can afford. 'As the Catholic Church, also we are competing with those who are in the private sector,' said Okello, the national executive secretary for education with the Ugandan bishops conference. 'Now, as you are competing, the other ones are setting the bar high. They are giving you good services. But now putting the standard to that level, we are forced to raise the school fees to match the demands of the people who can afford.' Across the region, the Catholic Church has built a reputation as a key provider of formal education in areas often underserved by the state. Its schools are cherished by families of all means for their values, discipline and academic success. In Zimbabwe, the Catholic Church operates about 100 schools, ranging from dozens in impoverished areas where annual tuition is as low as $150 to elite boarding schools that can charge thousands of dollars. But a legacy of inclusion is under pressure in the southern African nation due to fee increases at boarding schools and efforts by Catholic leaders to fully privatize some schools. Many boarding schools already charge tuition fees between $600 and $800, prohibitive for the working class in a country where most civil servants make less than a $300 per month. Privatization will raise tuition fees even higher, warned Peter Muzawazi, a prominent educator in Zimbabwe. Muzawazi, who attended Catholic schools, once was the headmaster of Marist Brothers, a top Catholic school for boys in Zimbabwe. That school in Nyanga is among those earmarked for privatization. 'I know in the Catholic Church there is a lot of space for reasonable fees for day scholars, but for boarders there is need to be watching because the possibility that they would be out of reach for the vulnerable is there,' he said. The church needs to be actively engaged, he said. 'How do we continue to guarantee education for the poor?' Efforts to privatize church-founded schools have sparked debate in Zimbabwe, which for years has been in economic decline stemming in part from sanctions imposed by the U.S. and others. Authorities say privatizing these schools is necessary to maintain standards, even as critics warn Catholic leaders not to turn their backs on poor people. 'Schools have now turned into businesses,' Martin Chaburumunda, president of the Zimbabwe Rural Teachers' Union, told The Manica Post, a state-run weekly. 'Churches now appear only hungry for money as opposed to educating the communities they operate in.' Rather than privatizing old mission schools, the church should invest in building new ones if it's useful to experiment with different funding models, said Muzawazi, a lay Catholic who serves on the governing council of the Catholic University of Zimbabwe. 'The bright people who advance the cause of countries are not the rich ones,' he said. 'We want every church and every nation to tap the potential of every person, regardless of economic status.' ___ Mutsaka reported from Harare, Zimbabwe. ___ Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP's collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content. Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google privacy policy and terms of service apply. Want more of the latest from us? Sign up for more at our newsletter page .