San Francisco Chronicle
**There are some sweet pictures of little Brendan on site
The world mourns people’s pontiff
EMBRACED: A heartfelt gesture changed perception of AIDS
Julian Guthrie, Chronicle Staff Writer
Monday, April 4, 2005
Brendan O’Rourke was born three months premature and weighed only 1 pound 13 ounces at birth. He fought with the energy of 10 little boys to live.
In the days before he died seven years later, he gave his mother gifts she can still feel: hugs filled with a strength that belied his debilitating condition and that seemed to tell her to stay strong.
In between those years, Brendan lived a life that fused the ordinary with the extraordinary. With bright blue eyes, caramel-colored freckles and ears that would take years to grow into, Brendan was a blur of energy. He loved his toys and games and taunting his siblings. But he also possessed something else, a hard-earned acceptance of life as good and bad.
On Sept. 17, 1987, when Brendan was 4, he did something that captivated a crowd in San Francisco and drew international attention. The little boy, wearing a blue suit, white shirt and red tie, was in the basilica of Mission Dolores. He was one of 62 AIDS patients waiting to be blessed by Pope John Paul II. When the pope passed by, Brendan exclaimed, “Hi Viva Papa!” and touched the startled pontiff’s ear. The pope turned and embraced Brendan.
Elaine O’Rourke spent part of Sunday showing off pictures of the widely publicized papal embrace, billed as one of the most emotional events of the pope’s tour of America. She sat in her family home in Novato and talked of her son’s sweet but abbreviated life and the family’s medical saga, enduring faith and profound reverence for the Holy Father.
She said she and her family, devout Irish Catholics, prayed that the pope’s death Saturday was happy and comfortable.
Looking toward the fireplace mantle, where Brendan’s photos were illuminated by candles, she said, “Hopefully, Brendan was on hand in heaven to greet the pope with one of his hugs.”
There is no anger in O’Rourke’s voice, no questioning why this happened to her son, to her family. She said she never felt let down by God.
“People look for big miracles in terms of cures,” she said. “But there are smaller favors, too, that can come your way. We had so many special favors we received. We had time with Brendan. That was a gift. We learned the lesson that life is precious and you never know how long you will live or how long your loved ones will live. We had peace through our faith.”
She had a hard time describing what it felt like to see her son embraced by the leader of her church. It was riveting, of course. But it was also a lesson and a symbol, she said.
“It was a way for the Catholic church to demonstrate compassion for people with AIDS, to de-politicize it and to give AIDS a human face,” said O’Rourke. “It also showed that this is what you do with people who are suffering: You embrace them.”
O’Rourke, who teaches first grade at a Catholic school in Terra Linda, said her son contracted AIDS through a blood transfusion shortly after his birth on Oct. 5, 1982. He wasn’t diagnosed, however, until he was 4 — just two months before the pope’s visit to Mission Dolores.
It was a time when the disease was still widely misunderstood and carried a heavy stigma, including the misconception that the disease could be transmitted even through casual touch. The pope’s hug sent a message that those with HIV and AIDS should not be feared.
The O’Rourkes, both native San Franciscans, worried about the reaction among the families and children at Brendan’s school, St. Cecilia’s in the city’s Parkside neighborhood.
“They held a big meeting for all of the parents to discuss this,” O’Rourke said. “Everyone was really wonderful.”
She said Brendan understood he had something wrong with his blood and knew he was diagnosed with HIV, which in his case quickly turned into AIDS. He had a small Toys R Us backpack where he kept his IV pump, which sent the antiviral drug AZT into a catheter in his chest. The backpack went everywhere with him.
“Brendan had a lot of grace. He dealt with his illness very well. I think part of it comes from his being a fighter from birth,” O’Rourke said. “He was a special kid. I remember how he was unusually good at being around old people and sick people. He was never afraid — like some children are — of people who are disabled or in wheelchairs.”
After the meeting with the pope in San Francisco, O’Rourke took her son on two pilgrimages in search of divine intervention.
The first was to Lourdes, France, where many Catholics go to pray to the Virgin Mary. The second was to Rome, to attend a ceremony for the beatification of Father Junipero Serra, founder of California’s first missions, and to receive Communion from their beloved Pope John Paul II.
O’Rourke said Brendan did receive Communion from the pope. And, the two shared another emotional embrace. Again, photographers were on hand to capture the hug. The pope is seen smiling gently. Brendan smiled broadly, his small hands clasped around the back of the pontiff’s neck.
Brendan would survive for another two years, finally succumbing to his illness on Aug. 17, 1990. He had a calendar on his wall at the hospital and was counting the days until he would turn 8.
Brendan Silverio O’Rourke would be 22 today. His sister, Emily, is now 25. His brother, Rory, is 24. Both are electricians, like their father, John O’Rourke. All three spent Sunday doing volunteer work in the community.
Elaine O’Rourke says she thinks of Brendan every day. She eyes a picture of her daughter at graduation and imagines Brendan would have shared her looks. She can hear her son’s voice and laugh.
And, she says, she always feels his hugs.
E-mail Julian Guthrie at jguthrie@sfchronicle.com
