Father Riccardo Lombardi's "Crusade of Love" (TIME, March 1) marched on. In Naples of the volatile south, as in Milan of the sober north, the impassioned exhortations of the pale little Jesuit reached hundreds of thousands.
Rolling Stone. For the opening address of the Crusade, Milan's Lyric Theater had been jampacked, and thousands more heard loudspeakers in the square outside. On the stage Father Lombardi stepped from behind the red curtains, nervously rubbing his hands—a tired-looking, unimpressive little priest. When he spoke, his listeners forgot what he looked like:
"It is a stone...
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