ROCCO PALMO, chief chronicler of the Roman Catholic Church, has collected a few nicknames for his gift of decoding the historically secretive institution:
The Vatican whisperer.
The church whisperer.
Dude who sometimes annoys the bejesus out of church officials. (OK, that one is a little long and I just made it up, but it's also accurate.)
After spending a little time with the author of the go-to website "Whispers in the Loggia" I'm going with another: the Pope Whisperer.
Why? Because over a cup of coffee, and more than a few cigarettes, he cut through the hype, hoopla and hyperventilation surrounding the pope's upcoming visit with one major truth bomb.
Hint: It has nothing to do with accessing (or not) the traffic box, er, I mean, the Francis Festival Grounds. Though it is ironic that it'll probably be harder for Palmo to cover the pope's visit to his hometown than it is to cover Rome from his parents' South Philly house.
"Everyone right now is acting like cheerleaders - rah, rah the pope's coming," Palmo says. "You have to remember that this archdiocese had to hit rock bottom first. That's the only reason why this visit's happening. The reason that we were given the World Meeting of Families and by extension the papal visit was as a way of trying to reboot the church in Philadelphia because of the sex-abuse crisis, because of all the torment of parish and school closings and because of all the people who were rightly up in arms about that."
Oh, he wasn't done: "The rebuilding is structural but it also needs to be a cultural . . . it's the only way things are going to be different."
Translation: Enjoy the party pilgrims, because the real work comes after the pope is gone.
Boom.
It's your life
The Pope Whisperer is chain smoking Djarum clove cigarettes while we talk at a local coffee shop. He laughs easily, a contagious combination of a giggle and cackle. But on the afternoon we meet, he also tears up easily, too.
For that he must be forgiven. Pope Francis' visit - spectacle that it is with papal cardboard cut-outs and His Holiness-shaped mozzarella and enough T-shirts to fill the basilica - is a culmination of everything Palmo loves: his family, his faith and Philadelphia. So his emotions are close to the surface these days.
"In a lot of ways, it's like my life flashing before me," Palmo says, taking another puff.
"It's a huge news moment, but it's a huge life moment. I've been thinking that it's going to be a lot like 'This is your life,' surrounded by everything of 32 years, my family and friends, all the people I work with both in the press and the church. It's going to be very moving . . . "
At some point it will hit him. But for now, the wiry muckraker is focused and fueled on Indonesian cigarettes, strong black coffee and once-in- a-lifetime adrenaline topped with a sense of humor.
"The visit is the first anniversary of my sister's wedding," he says. "That was a great dress rehearsal, a cast of thousands of screaming people all around a figure in white."
He pauses, a mischievous grin forming on his slender face. "The pope won't be as difficult as my sister was . . . "
He giggles. "Humor is the last refuge of sanity . . . " he says.
Cardinal wannabe
Since the pope's visit was announced, Palmo's been awash in requests and well-wishes. TV stations keep calling, newspapers want him to write for them, including the Daily News, which Palmo calls "God's Favorite Newspaper." (His father, Bob, worked in the circulation department at the Inquirer and the Daily News, so the paper is like home, he said.)
Family, friends and former middle school teachers are calling. His mother Julie couldn't be prouder.
"I'm just so excited for him, we're all just counting the days," she said. "To see everything come together for him in his own city is just amazing."
Palmo's graciously trying to fit everything and everyone in, but at some point he's going to have to shut down Palmo's Papal Hotline because he has his own website to feed. Whispers gets about 25,000 hits a day. He also has 21,500 followers on Twitter. Both numbers will undoubtedly swell during the visit.
Quite a turn of events for a devout Catholic who wanted to grow up to be a cardinal. When Palmo was 8, the newly elevated Cardinal Anthony Bevilacqua spotted a beaming Palmo in a pew at the Cathedral Basilica of Ss. Peter and Paul and asked: "Are you going to be a cardinal someday?"
"Oh, yes," Palmo was quoted as saying in a Daily News article. "Definitely."
His love and reverence for the church hasn't faded, but it's combined with a nose for news.
In a little more than 10 years, the website that started with three readers in 2004 has grown into the insider's guide to the church hierarchy, the place where Palmo regularly outscoops even the most seasoned reporters and sometimes drives church officials crazy by breaking news before they'd like. (Two days before it was official, Palmo broke the news that Archbishop Edwin O'Brien was appointed grand master of the Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem.)
Considering Palmo was calling in tips when he was just a teenager, it shouldn't be all that surprising.
"One of the first things I'm going to ask God is: 'Who are Rocco's sources?' " jokes Bishop Joe Galante, a friend and now retired head of the Camden diocese. Palmo calls his sources "whisper ops."
"Rocco has always been amazingly plugged in," said Ron Goldwyn, former religion writer for the Daily News. "There aren't that many people who make a living or a practice of scrutinizing the inner workings of the Vatican."
As popular as the site is, it's not profitable. Reader donations and speaking gigs help, but Palmo doesn't accept ads and he's turned down multiple offers from all kinds of outlets to write for them.
He's a young, good-looking guy. His mother would like some grandkids someday. So why not get married, take a good-paying job and drop the website?
"There are people in the church world who would rejoice in my being an atheist because they wouldn't have to deal with me anymore and I'm not giving them that satisfaction. That's the glib answer," Palmo said. "The second answer is that we have too many good people who believe and who do amazing things in and around the church and I like being around for them."
Passionate pilgrim that he is, Palmo's under no delusions. He knows that for many lapsed Catholics, myself included, our faith feels irrevocably broken by a lack of acceptance and growth. A recent Pew survey found that a majority of U.S. Catholics who left the church can't imagine returning.
Imperfect as the church is, Palmo is still all-in.
"It's what got my grandmother and my family through the worst of experiences," he said. "I've seen enough in my life to know it's true, it's real and with it in my life, I'm a better person. It's worth fighting for."
To read a story about young Rocco, go here: http://ph.ly/youngrocco
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