Aunt Sophia And The Popemobile

Growing up under the watchful eye of a living saint was not easy. Actually, at times it was more than this poor boy could stand. My Aunt Sophia, know to us as Soph, was truly a wonderful woman. Four of her sisters were Ursuline nuns, Mothers Matilda, Florence, Zita and for the life of me I can't remember the fourth one. (I tried to call my Mom but the Cardinal game is on TV and she won't answer the phone when the Redbirds are playing.) Her first qualification for Sainthood was that she stayed married to my Uncle Socks, and that feat alone would have earned her a box seat behind home plate in Pearly Gate Stadium. But there is plenty more on the path to Sainthood.

While her health permitted she made lap quilts for the elderly and inform. She raised the money, bought the goods and made the product, and then gave them away. When she could no longer sew she moved her business model to baking cookies, selling them and then she gave the money she made to one of several convents she was affiliated with to help the poor that the nuns served.

I could go on with Aunt Soph stories for pages, but suffice to say she was what she did and not what she said. This brings us to the Popemobile.

Pope John Paul was doing his US Tour some years back and the Tour ended in St. Louis. The Pope hopped in his jet and headed off to the Vatican and the job of making sure that the Popemobile (hereinafter the PM) was properly loaded in a container and returned to the Popegarage, fell to my sister Colleen who worked for an international freight forwarding company.

The task of driving the PM from the private airport to her warehouse to be packaged and shipped was gladly accepted by Colleen. On the way to be dropped off, she cruised by and picked up Aunt Soph and the two of them climbed in, buckled up and took to the streets of St. Louis in John Paul's modified Mercedes. Now keep in mind that the Pope's visit to St. Louis was a big thing and everyone, even Baptists and Lutherans were familiar with the PM.

At every stop sign and all along the route people got out of their cars and snapped pictures, waived and blew their horns. Aunt Soph, with a great smile, returned the waives and smiled for the photos. She talked about that day until she passed at 104. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.