The young Robert Prevost — now Pope Leo XIV — went out of his way to help others at St. Augustine high school in west Michigan
HOLLAND, Mich. — In the early 1970s, the class sizes at St. Augustine Seminary High School in Holland, Michigan, were small.
So if you were a student there, it was likely you knew Robert Prevost, editor of the yearbook, vice president of the student council, and senior class president of 1973. To his friends, he was simply known as “Bob.”
To the world, he’s now known as Pope Leo XIV, the vicar of Christ on earth.
“I was there from 1968 to 1972, so he was a year behind me,” said Fr. Becket Franks, OSB, a Benedictine monk who currently lives and serves at St. Procopius Abbey in Lisle, Ill., and a former classmate of the new pope. “The school was so small, there couldn’t have been more than 65 people. Everyone knew everyone.”
Fr. Franks is among those who remember the new Holy Father — formerly Cardinal Robert F. Prevost, an Augustinian from Chicago — on a first-name basis.
The small Augustinian prep school on the shores of Lake Michigan closed in 1977, but those who attended say it was the type of close-knit place where lifelong memories were formed.
“We all knew each other. Even though we had different courses for different grades, all of our curriculums were smashed together,” Fr. Franks told Detroit Catholic in a phone interview. “I was in choir with Bob. I was in reader’s theater with him. We interacted all the time together.”
Fr. Franks remembers the new Roman pontiff as a highly intelligent, well-liked student, and the sort of classmate who would go out of his way to help everyone else, especially those in need.
“The most outstanding thing is how smart he is,” Fr. Franks said. “He was into everything, he knew everything, and it came easily. And he brought all of us along with him.”
By the end of his sophomore year, the future Pope Leo XIV was already speaking fluent French, and would frequently help classmates with their schoolwork.
“He was known as the tutor of the school; if you had problems with your English paper, go see Prevost. If you have problems with your math homework, go see Prevost. If you didn’t understand some history project, go see Bob,” Fr. Franks said. “And Bob would help us.”
According to a newspaper clipping from the Holland Sentinel from Oct. 7, 1972, the future pontiff was active in the student council, was president of the Library Club, and was a member of the National Honor Society at St. Augustine, as well as a senator in the Student Congress in Lansing.
He was also editor-in-chief of the school’s yearbook — which he signed for Fr. Franks, simply, “Best of luck always, Bob Prevost.”
Fr. Franks remembers the new pope for his down-to-earth personality, quiet wit and characteristic Midwest charm, but also as someone who could appreciate a good joke and a little levity, he said.
“He was quiet and serious, but with rye humor,” Fr. Franks said. “He does have a good sense of humor, but it’s understated and quiet — when he starts that smirk on his face, you know he’s going to laugh.”
Like the rest of the country, Fr. Franks wasn’t prepared for the shock of seeing an American — let alone his high school friend — step out onto the loggia above St. Peter’s Square on May 8. As the curtains drew back and the words “Dominum Robertum Franciscum Prevost” were spoken by the cardinal proto-deacon, he nearly fell out of his chair.
Fr. Franks’ initial reaction “wasn’t really Benedictine monkish,” he laughed.
“I started screaming. I was in the kitchen, and the monks came running in, thinking something was wrong,” Fr. Franks said. “And I said, ‘My high school classmate just got named pope!’”
Although cellphones aren’t usually allowed in the abbey’s dining room, the prior made an exception, and the monks huddled around Fr. Franks’ tiny phone screen to watch as Cardinal Prevost was introduced to the world as Pope Leo XIV.
“Everybody let me play my phone live of Bob coming out on the loggia, and I just started crying,” Fr. Franks said. “And everyone’s going, ‘That’s so cool. You know him.’ I went to school with him. It was a very special, wild day.”
Fr. Franks said he has kept in touch with the new pope “on again, off again” over the years — a Christmas card here, a letter there. Occasionally they’d see each other during events, sharing a quick greeting.
Once, Fr. Franks recalled being mildly embarrassed when, at an event for the 75th anniversary of the Diocese of Joliet, he spotted his former classmate — then the prior provincial of the Midwest Augustinians — from across the room.
“I hadn’t seen Bob in a number of years, and he was in his Augustinian habit, and I was in my Benedictine habit. He was talking to this cleric, and I kind of interrupted their conversation,” Fr. Franks said. “I said, ‘Bob, how are you doing?’ And he said, ‘Tom, good to see you.’ And we embraced and smiled, and then he turned to me and said, ‘Would you like to meet the nuncio?’
“I was so embarrassed, I introduced myself and almost ran away,” he said.
Little did he know, Fr. Franks was also talking to a future pope.
Since the announcement, he’s spoke with other classmates who are equally as shocked and proud.
“One is an ER doctor down in Georgia, and I called him, and he said one of his nurses told him,” Fr. Franks said. “He said, ‘Can you believe it? Bob is the pope.’”
Like many, Fr. Franks is confident Pope Leo XIV will be a blessing for the Church, just as the former Robert Prevost of St. Augustine Seminary High School in western Michigan was a blessing to his classmates.
The man who signed a yearbook “Bob Prevost,” continued to humbly sign letters the same way throughout the years, Fr. Franks said.
His signature will hold a bit more weight these days — even if the name is different.
“Pay close attention to why he chose Leo XIV,” Fr. Franks said. “If you know anything about Pope Leo XIII, this is a man who is going to further the social teachings of the Church. He’s someone who’s going to stand up for unions and workers and migrants and immigrants. That’s going to be Pope Leo.”
As the world gets to know the 266th successor to St. Peter, Fr. Franks and others hope they see the same caring, thoughtful, smart and faith-filled follower of Christ they knew as a teenager growing up along the shores of Lake Michigan.
“He’s just a humble, forthright, down-to-earth guy,” Fr. Franks added. “He was always respectable and in position, but at the same time, always himself.”
