Louis Prevost was glued to NEWSMAX when history happened. The Chicago native’s jaw dropped as he watched breaking news announce his younger brother, Robert Prevost, had become Pope Leo XIV—America’s first pontiff. “I nearly spilled my coffee,” Louis confessed, describing the surreal moment faith and family collided on live TV.
The brothers grew up in a blue-collar Illinois home where faith ruled. While Louis and older brother John played cops and robbers, young Robert turned ironing boards into altars and handed out Necco wafer “communion.” Their devout mother Mildred beamed as her son declared at age six: “I’m gonna be a priest.”
A family friend once predicted Robert would make history. “She pointed at him and said ‘first American pope!’” Louis recalled. Decades later, as cardinals deliberated, John told Robert: “It’s you.” The future pope brushed it off as “lefty nonsense”—until 115 votes proved otherwise.
The new pontiff stays true to his roots. He’s a diehard White Sox fan who shuns fancy suits for plain black clericals. Louis joked: “He still cheats at checkers like when we were kids.” Their mom’s battered Bible now sits on the papal desk—a reminder that “fancy titles don’t impress God.”
Some liberals squawk about an American pope “tainting” Vatican tradition. Patriots know better. Leo XIV’s rise proves humble Midwestern values—faith, family, hard work—still shape extraordinary leaders. As Louis put it: “God picks regular guys. He just trained his brother extra hard.”
The Prevosts’ story exposes the media’s bias. While CNN obsessed over “progressive cardinals,” NEWSMAX gave real Americans a front-row seat to miracles. When history unfolded, one network knew it wasn’t just news—it was a testament to answered prayers.
Critics claim the pope’s conservative streak is “divisive.” Try telling that to the South Side parish where Father Robert once worked nights in a soup kitchen. His brother fires back: “He’s got Mother Teresa’s heart and Patton’s spine. America built that.”
As the papal plane left Rome, Leo XIV made his priorities clear: “I work for God first, my flock second, and the White Sox third.” Louis grinned: “Same Bobby. Just don’t ask him about the Cubs.” For heartland families, this pope isn’t just holy—he’s one of us.
