A day before the conclave of cardinals in the Vatican, Louis Prevost called his younger brother, Robert, from over 5,000 miles away in Southwest Florida and jokingly brainstormed names he could take if elected pope.
The brothers – one who has since become the world's most important religious leader and the other a self-described MAGA type who has published profane and vulgar social media posts – tried not to take the possibility too seriously.
"He comes out with, 'I'm thinking about Sixtus,' " Louis said. "He went, 'I'm gonna be Pope Sixtus the sixth.' "
When the white smoke poured out of St. Peter's Basilica last week, signifying the conclave's election of a pope, and Cardinal Dominique Mamberti came out to announce which papal candidate won the ballot, 73-year-old Louis heard one letter from his home TV in Port Charlotte. He knew what had always just been a chance was confirmed. His brother was the pope.
"He finally came out and then said, 'We have a new pope,' and then as soon as he went, 'R …,' you knew he was going to say Robert or Roberto," he recalled. "Sure enough, [he said] 'Robert,' and that's when my mind went, 'Rob's the pope. Oh, my God.' "
Moments later, Mamberti announced Robert's chosen name; it wasn't Pope Sixtus, Augustine, Stanislaus or even Pope Robert, like the brothers joked about two days prior, but Pope Leo XIV.
"Pope Leo. What? Where'd you get that name from," the pope's brother in Florida said in an interview. "But it's fine. It fits. … It's short and sweet."
Now as the brother of one of the world's most influential figures, Louis' own writings, including an April 5 Facebook repost criticizing former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi with a slur and insinuating that Pelosi's husband is gay, was dredged up for the world to see – although the posts are no longer publicly visible.
This week, in an interview with Piers Morgan, Louis Prevost responded to the post and laughed, saying, "Well, I posted it, and I wouldn't have posted it if I didn't kind of believe it."
Since then, he's been "very quiet" and has bit his tongue sharing his political views on social media so as not to create issues for his brother, despite his "MAGA type" beliefs, he said in the televised interview.
Louis Prevost and his wife declined to answer questions this week about the matter with Fresh Take Florida, a news service of the University of Florida College of Journalism and Communications. The couple sat for an interview days earlier, before the social media posts began drawing attention to the pope's Florida brother.
Personal politics aside, Louis was fairly confident that after the first day of the conclave ended in billowing black smoke, his brother would be elected leader of the Catholic Church. After all, he was "one of the top three choices" among the 133 eligible voting cardinals, he said.
As the first U.S.-born pontiff and Augustinian pope, 69-year-old Pope Leo XIV's election is historically unprecedented. But even as a child, signs of the papacy were always there, as his Louis said he always had a "little halo on his head."
In true oldest-brother fashion, Louis would get himself younger brothers Robert and John into trouble where the three grew up in Dolton, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago. And often, it was Robert getting them out of trouble.
He recalled one instance when at 7 years old, four years younger than Louis, Robert saved them from a gang after the three were riding bikes in a "druggies and gangbangers" part of town.
"Rob's like, 'Let me talk to him,' got off his bike, went over there, talked to him for five, 10 minutes, and they all came back shaking hands, hugging," he said. "It's been like that pretty much his whole life. … He's got the gift."
From that moment, Louis said he knew his brother's childhood activities weren't just a phase. And others saw it, too.
Instead of playing cops and robbers with Louis and John, Robert played priest. Every night before bed, Robert prayed the rosary. At his Catholic school, nuns saw him as a soon-to-be priest.
The reality didn't dawn on Louis until Robert was named cardinal in 2023 by Pope Francis.
"It's like, yeah, OK, right," he said. "When he became cardinal, it was like he's eligible to be the next one. He could be the next pope. And sure enough, he's the next one."
Louis said he hopes his brother will bring about a new wave of Catholicism to the church. He hopes U.S. citizens will be inspired by his U.S. origins and reimmerse in the religion by seeing Pope Leo XIV not on a pedestal but a humanized, down-to-earth man who will listen to what everyone has to say.
He added that his brother's relatable nature, along with his travels, citizenship in Peru, multilingual abilities and close relationship with Pope Francis, were most likely the most compelling factors in the conclave leading to his election.
"What more do you want in a pope?" Louis said. "If they're really honest about this, what other one of those cardinals has done anything outside the city that their church is in?"
Being the brother of a pope is overwhelming, with the barrage of phone calls and texts from anyone and everyone who can get in contact with him never-ending, he said. Old acquaintances, priests and devout Catholics constantly bombard him with requests, asking for guest appearances in Sunday Mass or for him to take rosaries to Vatican City for his brother to bless.
But Louis and his wife, 59-year-old Deborah Prevost, who have lived in their rural Florida home for about four years, are unsure if they'll ever get to see Robert again – a bittersweet realization, Deborah said, as Robert is "perfect for the position."
When they first moved to Florida, Louis was two years out of therapy in a clinical trial aimed to treat multiple myeloma, a type of blood cancer. The clinical trial knocked out all the cancer cells in his body, making it almost "undetectable," Deborah said.
Before his diagnosis, he was in the U.S. Navy for 12 years.
While Robert never visited Louis and Deborah in Port Charlotte, he would see the family at brother John's house in New Lenox, a small, Chicago suburb, just over 20 miles away from Dolton. John's house served as a perfect "halfway point" between Chicago O'Hare International Airport and the Florida couple's previous home in Beach Park, Illinois, Deborah said.
"When he was a cardinal, he could come home for his summer vacation and stay by the pool and have a barbecue with the family," she said. "Not one pope has gone back to where they came from after they became pope. … If you don't get the big picture, it's not going to happen."
Amid a plant-filled backyard scattered with makeshift little greenhouses and the sounds of chirps from the couple's two caged, sun conure parrots, Taiyu and Tita, Deborah reflected on her new reality — one where the two could potentially visit Pope Leo XIV at the Vatican, assuming they could afford it and work out schedules.
"We've lost a brother whereas the world gained a pope," she said.
But through the teary realization of losing her brother-in-law, she said she knows he'll succeed.
"It couldn't happen to a better person."
This story was produced by Fresh Take Florida, a news service of the University of Florida College of Journalism and Communications. The reporter can be reached at kairilowery@ufl.edu.
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