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As a reporter, I often observe from a press box or the sidelines. This time, I decided to join the masses.
April 25, 2025, 11:05 a.m. ET
I never had the chance to say hello. But I stood in line to say goodbye.
After Pope Francis died, my editors asked me to fly to Italy in advance of a move next month to take up the post of Rome bureau chief. I recently finished an eight-year tour in Tokyo and had thought I would cover the twilight of Francis’s term.
Instead, after arriving Thursday night to help report on the funeral and upcoming Conclave to elect Francis’ successor, I wandered over to St. Peter’s Square on Friday morning. I wasn’t planning to linger. I hadn’t picked up my press badge yet, and had read my colleagues’ stories about people waiting for hours to pass before Pope Francis’ coffin.
Once I joined the flow of the faithful, I didn’t want to leave the line. I felt an undeniable pull to stay.
It was a holiday in Italy and many locals stood to wait along with thousands of tourists and pilgrims. I heard Italian, Spanish, English and many other languages. There were nuns in their habits, older people in wheelchairs, youth groups dressed in identical T-shirts and carrying matching drawstring backpacks.
Despite the heavy police presence, the order was loose, with some people weaving in and out and passing ahead, as if on a congested freeway on a weekend. There was not much grumbling, perhaps in deference to the solemn reason we were there.
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English (US) ·