The oldest, at 78, is William W. Baum, the former archbishop of Washington. He is one of only three cardinals still younger than 80 who took part in the 1978 conclave that chose John Paul II.
The youngest, at 68, is Francis George of Chicago, a former philosophy professor who contracted polio as a child and was rejected by Chicago's diocesan seminary because he had a limp. He joined a religious order, the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, and now runs the archdiocese that once turned him away.
Cardinal Theodore E. McCarrick, archbishop of Washington, leaves the seminary where most of the American cardinals are staying. The voting cardinals will move to the Vatican once the search for a new pope begins.
(Andrea Bruce Woodall -- The Washington Post)
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Three of the Americans work in Rome. James Stafford heads a confidential tribunal called the Apostolic Penitentiary. Edmund Szoka, a Polish American who was a close friend of John Paul, runs the administration of Vatican City.
And Bernard F. Law, who resigned as archbishop of Boston during the scandal over sex abuse in the church, is archpriest of Rome's Basilica of St. Mary Major. Law gave his first major interview in more than a year to ABC News this week but declined to talk about the scandal.
The others, like McCarrick, head U.S. archdioceses. They are Edward Egan of New York, Roger Mahony of Los Angeles, William H. Keeler of Baltimore, Adam Maida of Detroit and Justin Rigali of Philadelphia. Egan and Rigali are particularly well connected in Rome because of their years of work at the Vatican as a canon lawyer and a diplomat, respectively.
McCarrick grew up in New York, the son of a ship captain who died of tuberculosis when McCarrick was 3. He was raised in an extended Irish family that included many police officers. On his birthday, he invites 80 nieces, nephews and cousins to an "Uncle's Day" barbecue, and at Christmas, he sends out 3,500 cards.
After earning a doctorate in sociology from Catholic University, McCarrick started to rise through the church hierarchy with the backing of Cardinal Terence Cooke of New York, now deceased, whom he served as priest-secretary. He became archbishop of Washington in January 2001.
Three years ago, at the height of the scandal over child sex abuse by priests, McCarrick emerged as perhaps the most sympathetic face of the U.S. episcopate, expressing anguish and embarrassment when other prelates were still moored in denial.
Last year, during the U.S. presidential campaign, he headed a committee of U.S. bishops that deflected pressure to deny Holy Communion to Sen. John F. Kerry (D-Mass.) and other politicians who support abortion rights, a stand that made McCarrick a target of ire from some antiabortion groups. This year, he is spearheading an effort by the U.S. bishops to end the use of capital punishment in the United States.
But even in his "house cassock," a robe with 33 red buttons and a red sash that is the ecclesiastical equivalent of black tie, McCarrick somehow conveys that he is just folks.
When the cardinals enter the Sistine Chapel, "I believe that the Holy Spirit will be among us, because I believe that the Holy Spirit will give us the pope that we need at this time, like he did 26 years ago," he said. "And I know who I am -- I'm not the smartest fella, I'm not the holiest fella. And yet I want to make sure that I listen, and that I love, and that I am courageous enough to do what I should do . . . and that's the scary part of it."
