The Pope came to my school!

By now, just about everyone should know that Pope Francis visited the United States. In just five days, he delivered a number of speeches, homilies, and blessings in Washington DC, New York, and Philadelphia. He also canonized a man to be a saint, and set the record for most friendly waves from a man in a Fiat. Impressive.

Since the day it was announced that the Holy Father would be paying a visit to say mass right at the Basilica of the National Shrine in DC, the community at the Catholic University of America had been in a frenzy. When we all got back to school earlier this fall, the administration briefed students on the amount of logistics and work it was going to take to make sure the visit went smoothly. The campus is not designed to accommodate more than 25,000 people in the slightest; we have less than 4,000 here for undergraduate studies. But with the help of around 1,200 volunteers, the National Guard, Secret Service, the grace of the big man upstairs (of course), and much more, the Pope of the people came and left campus in a matter of hours. It's now been a little more than a week since Francis' visit, and there aren't many remnants on campus that would make you ask, "hey was the Pope here?" The four-story media risers are gone, the thousands of porta-potties have vanished and the barricading fences have come down. It has been a really humbling period of time, considering how lucky I am and the whole community at Catholic is to have been present for such a historic visit. But it was my experience on the day of the visit that really made me think about it more.

For those who were in attendance at the mass, Sept. 23, 2015 is a day I doubt many will forget. I felt it was especially unique because I did not see the Pope with my own eyes. Most of my classmates did attend the mass and enjoyed it moment thoroughly. I would've done the exact same and probably would've even followed suit in posting a nice picture on social media along with a honorable caption. I do not intend to complain here either because it was my choice in potentially not being able to see the Pope. When I signed up to be a volunteer for the Papal Mass, there was a solid chance I would be assigned a position outside of the security areas. That's just what happened. My post was right outside of the metro stop, to direct people where to go and how to get around campus efficiently. The 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. assignment seemed daunting originally, but it was truly an experience I will not forget.

With the amount of people getting to the mass from the Metro, it was inevitable that the area would get hectic at some point. Those who arrived at 10 and 11 a.m. were in the clear, but it was the people who started to get there at 12 and 1 p.m. that found themselves in a mess of a situation. There were multiple gates to enter into the mass and each person's ticket had their assigned gate listed on it. The lines became so long at the height of hysteria they intersected and merged with each other. This resulted in people getting frustrated and with the rumored news the gates would close at 3 p.m., frustration became more like scared anger. I'm making this sound more dramatic than it was, but it was a sight to see, the masses of people all trying to see the Pope. I truly saw the whole range of human emotion. There were those who had traveled from all over the nation, even South America and Europe, and were delighted to be in attendance for such an event. And then there were those who found out that day that a ticket was required for entrance, news that caused the most unrest and sadness.

I had definitely never talked to hundreds of people in one day and I don't believe I ever will again. I even put my mild grasp of the Spanish language to use with people throughout the day. There were a number of memorable stories and questions I heard, things like:

"You mean to tell me that I can't see the Holy Father of the Catholic Church after coming all of this way?"

"I get that I need a ticket young man, but I am a priest in the (insert name here) Diocese and I know Father (insert name here) who is already inside the security gates and could help."

"Hey I heard the volunteers in blue polos had extra tickets to give away. How much can I give you for one?"

There were equally special moments on a positive note as well. I was given six tickets during the afternoon by people who had extras and did not want to be swarmed after advertising their good fortune. "Take this, and distribute them properly," I was told. My mind briefly thought of the golden ticket idea of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, but it did mean I could put some smiles on people's faces. Most memorably was a couple who came all the way from Argentina (Papa Francisco's native country), to find out they needed a ticket to the mass. After showing me their passports and flight schedules, I cut them off and let them know they were in luck. I pulled out two tickets and then saw the old Argentinian woman fall to the ground with joyful tears streaming down her face, in the middle of the road by the Metro. I had never felt so much gratitude towards me. After a multitude of hugs and kisses on the cheek, the thankful Argentinians made their way to the line to enter the mass. And my job continued. I had a few of these feel good moments sprinkled in throughout the day. They made pleas for golf carts to get around or shortcuts to beat the two-hour lines more bearable. The going got tough, and the tough (my new National Guard friends, not so much me) got going. It was a hectic day without a doubt, but there no were no huge issues. Thank the Lord, seriously.

For 12 hours on Sept. 23, people entered, tried to enter and then exited with a bigger agenda on their minds. It was the Pope! The Father of the Church. It was their faith, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. I was just a small piece of the process. I got to see in their words, their faces and their emotions just how much it meant for everyone here. It was a special feeling; I was happy to be there to witness it. The amount of raw sentiment and passion I saw was very telling and thought-provoking. Yeah, I didn't see the Pope at my own school, but I did see thousands of people before and after he delivered mass to them. That was cool and I did a little to help. It's a day I'll never forget. Thanks for stopping by, Papa Frank.