Pope Francis, a.k.a. ‘Frankie da Pope,’ brought a world of joy to Philadelphia in 2015

I didn’t intend to become the Daily News’ papal beat writer when Pope Francis came to Philadelphia in 2015, but I expressed a vague interest and asked my editor one question about it, which is how the job became mine.

I’d left the Catholic faith long ago after my mother, a devout believer, died from leukemia when she was just 37. I was 10. It seemed to me that if God cared if you believed, he wouldn’t have taken her, or given cancer to all those kids I saw when I visited her at the hospital.

Since her death, I’ve had moments of great gratitude and belief and moments of monumental doubt and skepticism. I knew covering Pope Francis’ visit to Philly would be emotional. I’d be steeped in the faith that meant so much to my mom and I might also find myself in the presence of the coolest thing to happen to the Catholic Church since sliced Communion wafers.

Pope Francis, who died Monday, was different from other church leaders I’d known. He seemed humble, tolerant, and progressive (for a Catholic). Born in Argentina as Jorge Mario Bergoglio, he’d worked as a nightclub bouncer in his youth (hardcore!) and took his name from St. Francis of Assisi, a peaceful man who was the patron saint of animals (sweet!).

If you weren’t in Philly, it’s hard to describe the hype and hysteria that overtook the city in the months prior to Pope Francis’ September visit for the World Meeting of Families, only the second trip made to Philadelphia by a sitting pope, following Pope John Paul’s visit here in 1979.

The School District of Philadelphia and nonessential city offices were closed for several days and mail delivery and trash collection were suspended in certain parts of the city.

Philadelphians got particularly apoplectic when officials announced cars wouldn’t be allowed within three square miles around Center City and West Philly and that the Ben Franklin Bridge and parts of Interstates 76 and 676 would be closed. Add to that rumors of an 8-foot security fence and concerns that the pope’s Sunday mass coincided with an Eagles game, and folks were on edge.

Artist Bradley Wrenn even created a satirical papal visit map of Center City with hot lava zones and pterodactyl patrols that hilariously captured the frenzy.

But there were also plenty of people who were excited for Pope Francis’ trip to Philadelphia, like Stefan Johnson, a Philly native who was an altar boy at the Cathedral Basilica of SS. Peter and Paul as a kid and whose father is serving a life sentence in prison. Johnson coordinated Pope Francis’ Mass at the basilica when he was just 23. Today, he’s the deputy chief financial officer for City Council.

“Pope Francis’ emphasis on compassion for the marginalized, including prisoners and their families, resonates deeply with my own story,” Johnson told me Monday. “His visit brought hope to so many in Philadelphia, and I felt honored to be a part of that and to tell him that personally.”

I also talked to a farmer who raises pigs in Vietnam who was looking forward to bringing his family to Philadelphia for the event and volunteers who couldn’t wait for Pope Francs’ visit, and I was welcomed into the Franciscan Monastery of St. Clare in Langhorne to observe how the Poor Clares, a group of cloistered nuns, prepared the altar breads for Communion during Pope Francis’ mass on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway.

And then there was Mike Connor, who got the entire city pumped up with his epic banger, “Frankie da Pope,” a very Philly musical ode to the pope.

“Oh Lord we need a miracle this time. Just like 1776, a declaration is in line,” Connor sang. “Who can we count on to steer us straight and true? Frankie, Frankie da Pope.”

When the weekend of Pope Francis’ visit finally came, by all accounts, it went off incredibly well. Instead of being annoyed by carless streets, many of us became enamored by them. I’ll never forget standing in the middle of North Broad Street looking up at City Hall in wonder.

It felt like magical realism. I was still in Philly but everything seemed lighter and brighter — especially the people around me.

Of course, Philadelphians turned up their creative side hustles for the papal visit, just like they do for sports championship runs. There was a Pope Francis plushie doll; a Pope Francis bobblehead with boxing gloves and cheesesteak; and blocks of mozzarella cheese from South Philly’s Pastificio Homemade Pasta Co. in the shape of Pope Francis’ head.

There were life-size cardboard cutouts of Pope Francis all around the city, fliers from salons advertising “Look dope for the pope” specials, and T-shirts featuring Pope Francis in an Eagles jersey.

Inside the Pennsylvania Convention Center, people gathered from all over for the World Meeting of Families. I spoke with visitors from Ethiopia and Brazil, friars from California, and nuns from Malvern, one of whom told me: “We have Philly fever! We have pope fever!”

There seemed to be a glow to everybody, even Philadelphians who had nothing to do with the festival. The streets were full and the mood was light and joyful. I haven’t experienced anything like it here before or since. Philly sports championship wins are great, but there’s an intensity to that bliss that can border on chaos. This was a more placid joy, something for which Philly is not widely known.

As a journalist, I had the honor of attending two of Pope Francis’ events that weekend. The first was a speech he gave in Spanish on immigration and religious liberty on Independence Mall, which moved many in attendance — including some immigrants — to tears.

“You should never be ashamed of your traditions. Do not forget the lessons you learned from your elders, which are something you can bring to enrich the life of this American land,” Pope Francis said.

Ten years later, his message and his call for Americans to be a voice for those “most in need of our help” who “are unable to be heard,” rings truer than ever today.

Pope Francis was driven through the crowd of thousands in his Popemobile and kissed a few babies along the way, including 6-week-old Luke Eubbing from Denver, whose parents, Jenny and Dave, radiated with joy following their son’s close encounter of the papal kind.

“It’s just such a blessing,” Jenny Eubbing told me. “We are just so thankful that our Holy Father came here to the U.S. It’s such a gift to us as Catholics and as Americans.”

I still keep a photo I took of that day on my wall. Pope Francis isn’t in it, but Independence Mall is teeming with people, anxiously awaiting his arrival, including a group of nuns from the Missionaries of Charity, who wear the same iconic blue-and-white habit Mother Teresa did.

I’ve never seen Independence Mall as alive and hopeful as I did that afternoon and I never want to forget it.

The following day, I covered Pope Francis’ visit with about 70 inmates at the Curran-Fromhold Correctional Facility in Northeast Philly.

He shook their hands and granted blessings upon request. Some wept and some embraced him. That this man felt it important to spend time with people who’d lost so much said a great deal about his character. He wasn’t rushed or bothered, you could tell he genuinely wanted to be there.

When he delivered his speech in Spanish, Pope Francis criticized countries that are complacent to people in anguish, another message that still rings troublingly true a decade later.

“Any society, any family, which cannot share or take seriously the pain of its children and views that pain as something normal or to be expected, is a society condemned to remain a hostage to itself, prey to the very things which cause that pain,” he said.

While covering Pope Francis’ visit to Philadelphia didn’t bring me back to the Catholic faith, it did bring me faith in a lot of other things. It brought me faith in Philly’s ability to host world-class events, faith in Philadelphians’ ability to rise to any occasion, and faith that a humble leader has the ability to bring joy and hope to people — and to an entire city — if he so chooses.