Tucsonan inspired by Venerable Padre Kino ventured across the globe to better understand the heart of the ‘Padre on Horseback’ who has blessed the Borderlands and led countless people to God.
By Elizabeth Pagels
In early summer of 1994, shortly after moving to Tucson from Southern California, I looked up at the “Padre on Horseback” statue at the corner of 15th Street and Kino Parkway for the first time, wondering about the man on horseback who daily watched over Tucson drivers and had streets, schools, and parks named after him. Twenty-eight years later, after intense research and writing about Venerable Padre Kino, I discovered that while I had learned much about the life of this 17th century missionary and his work founding 24 missions, I did not really know him. I yearned to know the heart of the man, Eusebio Francisco Kino, not from the page of a book, but standing on his front porch, meeting him heart-to-heart. I wanted to know the place he called home, and why he was so willing to leave it behind, knowing he would never return.
In late November of 2022, after having spent 11 wondrous days walking the pilgrim ways of Fatima, Lourdes, and Compostela among other holy sites, my soul and my legs were primed and ready to retrace the trail that Padre Kino had blazed from his infancy to his vow to become a Jesuit missionary. It is no coincidence that the people who launched me on the road to Kino’s heart were one of Kino’s own family members, Alberto Chini and his wife Ilda. They took me into their home in Kino’s birthplace, the village of Segno, about 20 miles north of Trento in the Val di Non. It was in the Chini home that I first met Eusebio Francisco Kino.
Today there remains in Segno, and maybe in all of Trentino, the unspoken understanding that people are rooted to the land, connected to the place they call home. Many live in homes that have stayed in their families for generations. Kino's decision to become a missionary and leave his homeland then becomes a supreme sacrifice that truly was a dying to what had been born in him, demonstrating his complete dedication for spreading the Gospel and the love of Christ to the ends of the earth.
I began my “Kino Walk” with my eldest daughter, and cell phone navigator “par excellence,” Judeth, in Ilda’s cozy kitchen where a glowing woodburning stove warmed our hearts and her homemade apple strudel and cappuccinos delighted our palates. The first bit of Kino lore I learned in Segno was that Kino was well-fed!
Segno is a charming village in the municipality of Predaia, in the Province of Trento. The majority of its buildings are historic, some dating back to the 11th century or earlier. Within its 58 hillside acres lives a population of around 700 people. There are a few shops and restaurants, and a train stop where a memorial to Padre Kino welcomes visitors. In the heart of the village is the Church of the Nativity of Mary, where the Chini family has attended Mass for generations, and of course the Kino Cultural Center.
From the Chini’s dining room window, there is a clear view of the main plaza and the Padre Kino Cultural Center. Alberto, who is the director of the Chini Cultural Association, curates the comprehensive collection of artifacts, documents, books, sculptures, and a room-length mural depicting Kino’s missionary work in Mexico and present-day Arizona. Directly in front of the Center stands the second of the three “Padre on Horseback” statues. When we arrived the night before, I jumped out of Alberto’s car, and threw my arms around the neck of Kino’s horse! Wish fulfilled!
From the day of his birth in Segno, Padre Kino’s missionary heart of love and work was being formed. Eusebio was the only son of four children born to Franciscus and Margherita Chini, a noble, landowning family. His parents were well-respected, living a prosperous agrarian life. The small room where it is believed Eusebio came into this world on August 10, 1645, is filled with light, warmth, and comfort. The single window looks out onto the sprawling beauty of the Val di Non, a lush, fertile valley with the pulsing River Noce flowing through it to places far beyond the small village. The majestic Dolomites stand guard over the landscape sprinkled with hamlets and castles.
Eusebio was baptized in the nearby village of Torra, in the hilltop church of San Eusebio. Alberto made sure when we visited there that the church bells were ringing so we could hear them, just as the Chini family did when they brought baby Eusebio for baptism. While there, I was given the privilege of holding in my hands the keys that unlocked the church on that very day.
In Segno, Kino’s heart learned how to love, not only people but also animals and the earth. Being of noble stock didn’t seem to matter to the boy Eusebio. He learned how to work with his hands. He was not a laborer, but he planted. He was taught how to grow fruits, vegetables, and grains. He loved the farm animals and learned to ride and care for horses. Alberto pointed out to me the grassy slopes where Kino would have led the cows to graze. Today, chickens poke along the streets of Segno looking for bugs, just as they have for centuries. Rows of Melinda apple trees, with their golden fall leaves waving, surround the entire village.
Our next stop on the Kino trail was Mezzocorona, a town about nine miles north of Trento. Around the age of nine, Kino’s family moved there to farm and cultivate vineyards. Today, Giulio de Vescovi, descendant of the family who shared a home with the Chini family at that time, still lives in that same house with his own family and makes wine: most notably, Kino Nero, a very special wine made in honor of Padre Kino. “It is made of three grapes,” Giulio told me. “One from the Val di Non, Segno, where Kino was born; one from Mezzocorona; and one from Arizona where he lived out his mission.” Back in Segno that afternoon, Ilda served schnitzel and noodles, salad, and of course, Kino Nero wine!
Kino was an explorer at heart. Not only was he a mountain climber and skilled outdoorsman, but eventually he also became an astronomer, publishing a treatise of the Great Comet of 1680. Kino also was a master cartographer. His detailed maps of his explorations in New Spain were used long after his death. It is because of Padre Kino that the world learned for certain that California was a peninsula and not an island.
During his pre-college education at the Jesuit school in Trento, Eusebio quickly emerged as a top student, excelling in mathematics and the natural sciences. Walking with Alberto and Ilda through Trento’s maze of streets and plazas, I was in awe of the medieval architecture remembering that Trento was not only a hub of culture, religion, and education for centuries, but it was also the site of the historic Council of Trent. When we stopped at the building that was the Jesuit college Kino attended, I could almost see young Eusebio running along the streets with his fellow classmates, soaking in the wonder of this enchanting city.
Following Kino’s trail to Austria was not initially part of my pilgrimage plan, but with Judeth’s masterful navigation skills at the ready, it was an opportunity I could not pass by. It was bittersweet leaving Alberto and Ilda, but just as they had welcomed us as family, they also invited us to return as family. So, with hugs and “ciaos” we were off.
Padre Kino had the heart of an adventurer. After Trento, at about age 17, Eusebio crossed the Alps to continue his education at the Jesuit colleges in Innsbruck and nearby Hall. Getting there was probably one of the most arduous and physically challenging journeys of Kino’s life thus far. He had to travel north up the Imperial Road through the Brenner Pass. In the mid 1600s, a horse and carriage could only make it so far. After that, you would have three choices: try to make it on horseback, hire locals to carry you on a sedan chair, or you could walk. Whatever you chose, the journey crossing the Alps would be freezing, exhausting, and at least eight days long! Judeth and I made the journey from Trento to Innsbruck in a warm, fast train in about three hours. Ah, the benefits of the modern age!
Innsbruck is exquisite by any standard! Cradled by the Bavarian Alps, with the glorious Inn River as its centerpiece, this picturesque city in Austria’s Tyrol, is and probably was for the excited Eusebio, the perfect place to pursue one’s dreams. Judeth and I pursued spaghetti and meatballs, wine, and our warm hostel beds. The next day, we discovered that the Jesuit University is not only still standing but also continues to be a thriving educational institution with an international student population, and at the time of our visit there were 35 resident Jesuits teaching there.
In 1663, when Eusebio was studying rhetoric at Hall, a smaller city close to Innsbruck, he suffered “a serious wound” and was mortally ill. Kino prayed to St. Francis Xavier, the great Jesuit missionary, making a vow that if he was healed, he too would become a Jesuit missionary. Kino was miraculously healed, afterwards adding Francisco to his name. Judeth and I made the short bus trip to Hall, to see the building where this took place, which is now an elementary school. Allowed inside briefly, I heard the school children singing and laughing. I knew Padre Kino would be pleased.
Kino had a steadfast heart. He kept his vow. He entered the Jesuits on November 20, 1665, and dedicated his priesthood to Our Lady of Guadalupe whom he loved. He kept her image in his breviary and said Mass at the original site of her apparition whenever he was in Mexico City. In the little Church of the Nativity of Mary in Segno, her image hangs in the sanctuary as tribute to Padre Kino’s devotion to his Holy Mother.
In making this pilgrimage and encountering the heart of Padre Kino in his homeland, walking on the same ground, praying in the places that were sacred to him and in the room where he was born, I have come to believe what a very good friend has expressed to me: that the great desire of Padre Kino’s heart was to spend his entire life living the words of the Our Father, bringing the kingdom of Heaven to earth by giving his entire self to others; feeding them, clothing them, most of all, sharing all he was with them for the love of Christ.
Cardinal Luis Tagle said recently in his homily at the National Eucharistic Congress, “A missionary is a gift. Mission is not just about work but about the gift of oneself.”
God fashioned the brilliant and unstoppable gift of Padre Eusebio Francisco Kino. Kino then gave the gift of himself to us all.
Many thanks to those who supported me and made my journey possible: Judeth McKindley, Mark O’Hare, Erin Blanchette, and George Madrid.