Weather | Sports | Forums | Comics | Classifieds | Calendar | Movies
ST. PETERSBURG - More than 50 years ago, W. Thomas Larkin was strolling the streets of Rome with his Polish colleague on their way to class. Both were Catholic priests, studying for doctorate degrees in theology.
Even then, Larkin said, he could tell Karol Wojtyla was a step above the rest, himself included. Wojtyla was already fluent in several languages and wanted Larkin to help him bone up on English during their walks. He was steadfast in the faith, often prodding Larkin to stop at a chapel for prayer on their way home. And he wasn't much for small talk. Chats about the weather did nothing for him; a rigorous discussion on church theology was more like it.
Larkin wrote to his parents, raving about his classmate. Wojtyla would surely rise high within Catholicism's ranks, he wrote. But he could never become pope, Larkin figured. Wojtyla wasn't Italian.
So perhaps no one was more surprised than Larkin when Wojtyla became Pope John Paul II, the first non-Italian elected to the papacy in more than 400 years. In 1979, John Paul II appointed Larkin to be the second bishop of the Diocese of St. Petersburg.
Larkin has since retired, but still lives in the area, holding the title bishop emeritus. Diocese officials said he was too ill to speak with a reporter on Friday. But when he talked with reporters in late 2003, Larkin remembered his days with the pope and revealed sides of the Holy Father that most of the world's 1-billion Catholics never saw:
The pope who once sang in the choir and loved to ski. The earnest student who always carried a book to read on the way to the bus or while waiting for events to start.
The young man who nodded when a joking Larkin taught him "Go to hell" was a favorite American greeting. ("I knew you were pulling my leg," he told Larkin years later.)
When Wojtyla graduated, he decided to return to Poland, a nation where communists had imprisoned 700 priests. Colleagues asked if he was afraid. Wojtyla said that he was but that he had to go back, Larkin remembered. It was his priestly duty to be with the people.
As the pope, he continued to put his spiritual flock above risks to his safety. Even after the attempt to assassinate him in 1981, the pope insisted on mingling amid throngs of Catholics.
Nor did he shy from controversial issues: criticizing communism and capitalism and upholding Catholic prohibitions against contraception and women in the priesthood. More recently, some criticized the pope, saying he didn't come down hard enough on church leaders involved in the Catholic priest sex scandal. But Larkin said he thinks he handled it adequately.
His successor's greatest battle may be against the materialism so favored in today's world, Larkin said. The quest for wealth, illicit sex and drugs - such temptations weren't as strong when he and the pope were young, Larkin said.
John Paul II will be hard to replace, he said.
The most-traveled pope in the church's history, he grew accustomed to the media's glare, finding it humorous at times. At an event a few years ago, Larkin asked how his health was.
"I'll be able to tell you after I read the morning paper," the pope replied.
And the pope was always writing to the people - books and other publications - much more so than leaders before him. The people will remember that, Larkin said. That, and his public battle with illness that didn't stop him from traveling to see them.
Long before John Paul wore stark white vestments, before he was waving and shaking hands with Catholics the world over, Larkin remembers a humble friend talking with waiters and other "common" folk wherever they stopped to eat or read or pray.
Larkin chuckled. He once gave the pope a flag of Florida and a box of Ybor City cigars.
"I don't smoke," he told Larkin. "But I'll pass them out to important people."