Kapaun pilgrimage draws hundreds
Staff writer
The roughly 300 pilgrims trudging 60 miles from Wichita to Pilsen for an annual march honoring chaplain Emil Kapaun were particularly excited this year.
The walk (or pilgrimage, or march, or camino) was the first since Kapaun was elevated to “venerable” status by the Catholic church.
It also was the first since the death of Pope Francis and the conclave that selected the first American-born pope.
Pilgrims arrived Saturday evening at Barbara Kroupa’s farm on US-56 and Remington Rd. for their final night before reaching Pilsen.
Most set up tents and chatted frenetically, despite the fact they had just walked 16 miles on dirt and gravel roads in temperatures that had reached 90 degrees.
It felt like the first day of summer camp. Everyone was remarkably un-sweaty.
“I’ve never had a blister in all four years that I’ve done this,” a twenty-something named Owen Witt said. ”My feet are kind of gross, kind of rough, so they don’t really get blisters.”
Witt had been walking in a pair of old Crocs, which he apparently used for two previous pilgrimages.
He walked off to queue for a portable shower trailer.
The Kroupas’ large backyard was dotted with colorful tents and puffy duffel bags.
The pilgrims didn’t have to carry supplies while walking. Tents and clothes were instead loaded into a large trailer and taxied to each stop.
There also were sag wagons, also affectionately known as wagons of shame, that walkers could sit in if they got too tired or fell too far behind during the journey.
Rounding out the fleet of vehicles were a dozen or so cars parked at the farmstead, carrying extra snacks, fluids, medical supplies, and souvenirs.
Gretchen Stuhlsatz was setting up camp next to Witt as part of a large group made up of six sisters and a few cousins. They came from Garden Plain and Andale.
“It’s a great time to connect with everybody around you, to connect with your faith,” she said. “I went through confession for the first time in a long time yesterday. We were having adoration last night in Peabody, and I was sitting there, and I felt the Holy Spirit pulling me to go to confession, and I did. It felt really nice.”
A few priests traveled with the walkers so they could be on hand if someone wanted to hold spontaneous confession.
Gretchen’s oldest sister, Clarissa, had involved the family in the Kapaun walk.
This year, she was working as a nurse during the journey, mostly treating foot injuries.
“She’s been on it for 10-plus years,” Gretchen said. “I’ve grown to love it, though it’s always hard. I’ve done it for eight years.”
The majority of the 300 pilgrims had walked two or three times before.
Many had made friendships from years of walking and proselytizing in close company.
“It helps a lot, walking with a group,” Gretchen said. “We like to make up games along the way.”
Nearby, a smaller family was setting up camp: the Rogers, from Derby.
They were experienced walkers, and knew the Stuhlsatzs from years past.
Bryan Rogers had walked for nine years, and his wife, Sarah, for four.
“At first it was just something to do, to see if I could walk 60 miles,” Rogers said. “The more I learned about Father Kapaun, the more I learned to appreciate it. It gives you something to think about when going through your own life, the struggles they went through. … I’ve got freedom, got food to eat. I’m not covered in lice.”
The couple had brought two of their sons, 11-year old William and 9-year-old Isaac, for their trail debuts.
“They did most of the walk but had to ride in the vans for a bit,” Rogers said. “It’s a little bit different because you’re not just taking care of yourself.”
Some bolder couples had brought their kids along since a much younger age.
“I wasn’t ever brave enough to do a stroller,” Rogers said. “Those people impress me.”
Wade Bakhit was a first-time walker.
He had driven down from Lincoln, Nebraska — “Go Huskers!” he said — to join the pilgrimage a day late.
Friday went fine, but he struggled with Saturday’s 16 miles in the heat.
“Very hard,” he said, carrying four bags in his arms and breathing heavily. He was walking the final few meters over to his friend Chris, who was setting up a tent for their group.
“My friend Tessa has a huge devotion to Father Kapaun, and I wanted to support her in that,” Bakhit said. “I think it’s really impressive. He was a strong man and committed to those who serve.”
The next morning, the Kapaun walk concluded with an eight-mile walk to Pilsen, followed by a Mass.
As the sun set across the Kroupas’ hilly yard, the gumdrop tents cast long shadows.
It smelled like sewage and diesel by the port-a-potties and like tortillas at the other side of the farmhouse, where a burger and hot-dog dinner was being served.
Not everyone wore religious attire, but most had wristbands, T-shirts, or necklaces that professed their Christianity.
One man had “Rock Chalk” on the front of his blue shirt, and “KU Catholic” on the back.
Another went for a simpler, look: a white shirt with a cross on the front.
“You get to see Kansas,” Rogers said of the walk. “When you’re walking, you have time to look at the wheat fields. We’ve seen some deer. One time, a skunk tried to run through our group.”
Rogers has become a strong walker in his years on the trail.
He rattled off essential items for trail injuries — “moleskin, duct tape, Band-Aids, chafing cream” — and said the day’s heat hadn’t bothered him much.
“The first year I did it, it was 100 degrees,” Rogers said.
Wayne Raphael, a soft-spoken 65-year-old, said differently.
“It doesn’t get any easier,” he said. “Right now, my quads are sore, my buttocks are sore. I don’t want to stand up.”
Raphael, a retired Air Force veteran from Mustang, Oklahoma, sat on the grass alone, monk-like, both arms collages of bracelets and sweatbands, wearing jean shorts, eating chips.
It was his fifth year walking, having been inspired after his church in Oklahoma visited the Kapaun Museum in Pilsen.
“I understand some of it,” he said. “I’ve never been a prisoner of war, but in our military studies, there have been many stories they’ve given us.”
Raphael seemed to enjoy a good pilgrimage.
“It’s a test of the mind, body, and spirit,” he said. “I am focused on finishing. All the pilgrims, they motivate me.”
He spoke about meeting Europeans, Mexicans, college students, retirees, monastery students, teachers, and active-duty military personnel over his years of walking.
“We also have non-religious people on this march,” he said.
A group of kids from Bishop Carroll High School in Wichita said their class prayed for Kapaun’s canonization at the end of every day.
“I do believe that he’s performed miracles, or miracles have happened through prayers to Father Kapaun,” Gretchen Stuhlsatz said.
Prayer-based miracles are essential for canonization. Two men who believe Kapaun facilitated miracles for them, Chase Kear and Nick Dellasega, were at the farmstead Saturday with their families.
Kear was a pole vaulter who suffered a serious head injury while practicing in high school; Dellasega was a runner whose heart stopped for nine minutes during a five-kilometer race.
Both men were not expected to survive but made full recoveries, partially crediting prayers for Kapaun to intercede on their behalf.
Barbara Musgrove hoped Kapaun similarly would help her son, who recently was diagnosed with colon cancer.
She was on the Kapaun walk this year in his honor.
A group of friends in Colorado also were praying for Father Kapaun intercession to help heal her son.
More and more people have been praying for Kapaun’s intercession since he was declared venerable.
“I’m sure the miracles will happen if God so chooses,” he said.
After dinner, a documentary about military chaplains featuring Kapaun was screened for interested campers.
The film, “Fighting Spirit: A Combat Chaplain’s Journey,” was released in November and had not had its premiere in Kansas.
Actor Chris Pratt was an executive producer.
Asked about what the future holds, walkers were optimistic about Kapaun’s chances for sainthood and said they were dedicated to continuing to the 60-mile walk in his honor.
“We’re definitely not doing this for nothing,” Stuhlsatz said. “Even if [sainthood] never happens, we’re still doing this for something.”
Raphael expressed admiration for the journey that never gets any easier. It’s such cases, after all, that are the most meaningful.
“I’ll keep doing it until God tells me to sit my butt down and go home,” he said.