This story must be appreciated within the context of the unique harmony which prevails in Pittsburgh’s religious community. There have always been close feelings between the city’s Lubavitcher chassidim and other traditional Orthodox communities. At one point, the Lubavitch Yeshivah and the Orthodox Hillel Day School shared the same property. On a personal level, the families were so close that in many ways they comprised a single homogenous entity.

For this reason, it was not surprising that Yale Butler, son of one of the leading Orthodox families, became an active member of Lubavitch’s Mesibos Shabbos youth program and developed a personal relationship with Rabbi Yossi Shpielman, its director. Not that Yale was becoming a Lubavitcher. On the contrary, he was an active member of Bnei Akiva and was comfortable with that ideology. But he saw no contradiction between that and absorbing the vibrancy which Lubavitch infused into Jewish life.

Yale has always been an individualist, and a creative one. In 1960, when he was a seventh-grader, he became editor of the Hillel newspaper. He wanted his first edition to attract attention throughout Pittsburgh’s Jewish community, so he thought of a spoof.

One of the more active figures in Pittsburgh’s Jewish community was a Lubavitcher who often wore an army hat and jacket. This and his untrimmed beard reminded many of Fidel Castro. In fact, the association was so common that he was nicknamed “Castro” throughout the community.

(This was almost 40 years ago, and Castro’s dictatorial, anti-American policies were not widely known at the time. On the contrary, to many Americans, he was a flashy underdog fighting Cuba’s despotic leader, Batista.)

Yale decided to expand on the association. He wrote a fictional account about an invasion of Cuba in which Castro’s troops were in danger of being wiped out. In desperation, Castro called to his brethren in 770. They contacted the Rebbe and the order was given: chassidim were to march on the Brooklyn Navy Yard, commandeer several submarines, and sail to Castro’s rescue.

Yale’s story did attract attention, but not the kind he desired. Many in Pittsburgh’s Jewish community read his article, but few approved. Even as a jest, it was simply out of place.

Leaders of the traditional Orthodox community reprimanded the 12 year old for his lack of sensitivity, as did his parents. He was encouraged to apologize to Rabbi Sholom Posner, the head of the Lubavitch community. In the end, this first issue of the paper was also its final edition.

Rabbi Shpielman, with whom Yale shared a developing relationship, did not think of reprimanding him. Instead, he wanted to introduce Yale to the chassid-Rebbe relationship.

“You have to meet the Rebbe,” he told Yale. “Once you discover who he is, you will see how inappropriate your piece was.”

Yale was not unwilling, and Rabbi Shpielman began to speak to him about yechidus. Shortly afterwards, Yale’s Bnei Akiva chapter had a Shabbaton in Crown Heights, and this appeared to be a perfect opportunity. On the Sunday after the Shabbaton, he would do some shopping, in Judaica stores on the East Side, and that evening he would meet the Rebbe.

Rabbi Shpielman had promised to meet him at 770 and enter yechidus with him, so Yale felt comfortable when he arrived that evening. He did not have to wait long for yechidus, and soon he and Rabbi Shpielman entered the Rebbe’s room.

The Rebbe motioned for Yale to sit down. As he did, he noticed Rabbi Shpielman leaving. At this point, he began to feel a little daunted. After all, he was only a seventh-grader and was sitting alone with the Rebbe!

The Rebbe spoke to Yale warmly, telling him that he knew of his family and its work on behalf of the mikveh and Jewish education in Pittsburgh. Yale was moved by the cordial words. The Rebbe continued, complimenting Yale for his talent as a writer.

Up until this point, Yale had been mesmerized by the Rebbe’s eyes, but then he noticed a copy of his article on the Rebbe’s desk! The Rebbe, however, made no mention of the article at all. Instead, he spoke of a person’s obligation to appreciate that his talents are a trust that he should use for the benefit of others. In particular, the Rebbe emphasized, a writer should use his abilities to promote Jewish unity and the love of one Jew for another.

Instead of the sheer terror Yale felt when he saw his article on the Rebbe’s table, his feelings turned to relaxation and then empowerment. The Rebbe had recognized his potential and given him encouragement with regard to its expression.

Years passed. In 1979, after receiving his Rabbinic ordination and working as a Rabbi in Vancouver, Yale moved to Los Angeles, where, among his other responsibilities, he wrote a weekly column for the B’nai Brith Messenger. After several months, Joe Cummins, its publisher, asked him to write an additional column on the weekly Torah reading.

Rabbi Butler explained that he was already over-committed, and could not do the column himself. “If you want a good piece on the weekly portion,” he told Mr. Cummins, “why don’t you use the talks of the Lubavitcher Rebbe? They come out every week, they’re articulate, and a wide range of people would be interested in reading them.” Mr. Cummins accepted the idea, and the Rebbe’s sichos began to appear weekly in the Messenger.

In 1982, Yale became the publisher of the paper. One of the programs he introduced was lifetime subscriptions. One night, as he sat reviewing the list of people who had purchased these subscriptions, he came across the name, M.M. Schneerson. The Rebbe had answered the ad personally, and had enclosed his own check in payment.

Rabbi Butler had been sending the Rebbe a paper each week without charge; after all, the Rebbe’s column appeared in it. The Rebbe, however, had felt the need to pay for a subscription.

From time to time, the Rebbe would ask Rabbi Butler to publicize his perspective with regard to certain issues such as Israel’s right to Judah and Samaria, the halachic perspective with regard to the Law of Return, and other concerns facing the American Jewish community.

It appears that the Rebbe never forgot the “Castro” article, once telling Rabbi Shimon Raichik of L.A. that Yale had shown skill as a writer “since childhood.”