From John Paul II to Francis: Two Popes, Two Eras, One Reporter Caught in the Middle

Two popes, two very different eras, and one unforgettable journey through history. The world has just said goodbye to Pope Francis, almost exactly two decades after the passing of John Paul II. Both men left massive footprints—Francis, the so-called "People's Pope," and John Paul II, the global symbol of hope and change. And yes, I've had the wild privilege of covering both of these spiritual heavyweights.

The news of Pope Francis' passing came out of nowhere. After a stretch of illness, he seemed to be recovering, so his peaceful death at the Santa Marta guesthouse left everyone reeling. I was supposed to be taking a quick nap after a transatlantic flight, but instead, I found myself racing to the studio to report on a man who felt familiar even to those who never met him.

Francis was the first pope from the Americas, a champion for the vulnerable and a voice for big issues like inequality and climate change. He wasn't afraid to tackle the tough stuff inside the Church, either—from sex abuse scandals to the roles of women and LGBTQ Catholics. He did it all with humility and a surprising sense of humor, which, honestly, is a rare combo in Vatican corridors.

Meanwhile, memories of John Paul II's passing still linger. I was there in Vatican City in April 2005, reporting as thousands gathered for a chilly vigil beneath his window. When the lights went out in his apartment, it felt like the whole world held its breath. John Paul II had been an unstoppable force for freedom, credited with helping topple communism in Poland and beyond. For 26 years, I covered his journey—from a young "cub" reporter at his election in 1978 to his final moments as a global icon.

After both papal deaths, Vatican officials echoed a familiar phrase: "He has returned to the house of his father." But that’s just the start. The passing of a pope kicks off a massive, tradition-packed process. There’s the funeral, the hush of the conclave, and the suspenseful puff of black—or white—smoke announcing whether the world has a new spiritual leader.

John Paul II's death led to the election of Benedict XVI, a more conservative and senior figure, who shocked everyone by resigning after eight years. That made way for Pope Francis, the Argentinian outsider who brought a breath of fresh air. Now, as speculation swirls over the next election, the big questions are back: Will the papacy return to Italian hands or move even further afield? Will the Church lean conservative or keep Francis' progressive momentum?

All eyes are on the Vatican as the world waits for that next puff of white smoke. The only thing that's certain—this transition will be watched by 1.3 billion Catholics (and, let's be real, millions more rubberneckers like me).

On a personal note, I carry reminders of these popes and my own loved ones. A Vatican insider once gave me rosary beads blessed by John Paul II, and they've traveled with me from war zones in Afghanistan and Iraq to Ukraine. I also carry memories of my mother, a devoted fan of the Polish pontiff, who passed away from ALS—a disease similar to the one that contributed to John Paul II's decline.

My mom, born of humble roots, would have appreciated Francis' simplicity and grace at the end. Some say he waited until after Easter to pass, not wanting to overshadow the holiest day on the Catholic calendar. Just like my mother, who waited until the day after my birthday to say her final goodbye. Considerate to the last.

Rest in peace, Francis. If heaven’s got a guestbook, I’m betting you’re already cracking jokes in it.