Holy Hill: A Lifetime of Memories in Wisconsin
I have been visiting Holy Hill in Hubertus, Wisconsin since I was around six or seven years old. When my family moved to Wisconsin, my parents fell in love with this peaceful sanctuary, and it quickly became part of our lives. My dad, a retired truck driver, especially enjoyed taking the scenic back roads on Saturday afternoons heading to Mass. Driving was second nature to him, and I could always tell that those quiet countryside drives made him happy.
The heart of Holy Hill is its magnificent basilica, the Basilica of the National Shrine of Mary, Help of Christians. It sits atop one of the highest points in southeastern Wisconsin, offering breathtaking views of the surrounding landscape. On a clear day, you can see downtown Milwaukee, which is about 30 miles away.
The basilica, built in the early 1900s, has two soaring towers that are visible for miles. Still to this day, I get excited see them when I am driving round the curves of Highway 167. The site has been a place of pilgrimage for over 150 years, even before the church was built, with visitors coming to pray, reflect, and admire its beauty.
Inside, the cathedral is just as awe-inspiring, with intricate stained glass, towering columns, a beautiful pipe organ, and a sense of deep reverence that fills the space. There is a side chapel, The Shrine of Mary, where you can light candles and pray. Outside of this chapel are crutches of people who have been healed. The second-floor chapel, dedicated to Saint Thérèse of Lisieux (The Little Flower), offers an intimate space for prayer and reflection. Finally, Holy Hill has a gift shop and cafeteria, making it a welcoming place for visitors to spend time.
Some of my happiest childhood memories are of those Saturdays—driving through the rolling countryside with my parents, weaving through the tree-lined road leading to the basilica, passing the monument to Mary, and slowly ascending the hill to the church. We were never in a rush. There was always a stillness and peace in those moments, a feeling that has stayed with me throughout my life.
Years later, Holy Hill became even more deeply woven into my personal history. My mom’s funeral was held there—in the Saint Thérèse Chapel. It was one of the hardest moments of my life, and I found myself making the arrangements alone—my dad couldn’t bear to do it, and my sister was never involved.
After the planning, I remember feeling overwhelmed, needing space to process it all. I went to Southridge Mall in Milwaukee, walking aimlessly, and found myself in front of a Thomas Kinkade studio. There, I saw a small painting—a beautiful scene in soft, calming blues (my favorite color), featuring one of his signature cottages. Below it was part of the Scripture passage I had chosen for my mom’s funeral:
"In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you." – John 14:2
Even though I couldn’t afford it, I bought that painting. It felt like a sign, a small piece of comfort in the midst of grief—of losing my best friend. It’s one of the few possessions I have held onto through my many moves, a reminder of my mom and of Holy Hill, a place that has meant so much to me—to all of us.
Decades have passed since my earliest visits, and both of my parents are long gone. Still, whenever I’m in Wisconsin, I return to Holy Hill. In January 2025, I visited again. The winter is an especially beautiful time—when the basilica is even more breathtaking with snow-covered trees, the crisp air, and the quiet stillness surrounding the hill. It is a place where time slows down, where memories remain vivid, and where I always feel a sense of peace.
As I prepare to move out of the United States, I know Holy Hill will be one of the places I will miss most. Over half a century of visits, it has been a constant in my life—a place of beauty, faith, and remembrance. No matter where life takes me, Holy Hill will always hold a special place in my heart.
