Found these and thought I’d share.
They’re taken from here.
William Russell, S.J. also became a permanent friend. He and I came to the Jesuit School of Theology in 1973, I as a member of the faculty, Bill as rector of the community. Through Bill I made the acquaintance of Henri de Lubac during my year in Cambridge. Bill had done his theology in France, where he and de Lubac struck up a friendship. Whenever de Lubac came to lecture in the United States, Bill would accompany him as a translator, since de Lubac spoke no English. During my Cambridge year, de Lubac had scheduled a series of lectures in different American cities, among them Chicago. Proclaiming de Lubac’s theology suspect, Cardinal Cody canceled his lecture at the diocesan seminary in Chicago.
The auxiliary bishops of Chicago felt so outraged at the Cardinal’s action, that they gave a special dinner in de Lubac’s honor. Since de Lubac had to give another lecture later in the evening the bishops shortened the cocktail hour before dinner and told the waiters to serve doubles. De Lubac never drank alcohol; but he told Bill that, since the bishops were going out of their way to honor him, he would on this occasion drink whatever they gave him. The bishop next to de Lubac ordered a double martini; and de Lubac, not realizing what he was doing, ordered the same. When the waiter put the drink in front of him, de Lubac saw pure poison and decided to get an unpleasant experience over with as quickly as possible. He drained his glass in one gulp. The bishop, somewhat bemused, motioned to the server, who brought de Lubac a second double martini which he again chug-a-lugged. Fortunately, Bill saw what was happening and explained to the bishop that de Lubac never drank and was, by way of exception, doing so this evening out of courtesy. During the meal the bishops had provided three wines. After dinner all drank a liqueur. Then de Lubac gave his lecture. Bill deemed his performance inspired, by far the best lecture of the entire tour.
After that one encounter, I never saw de Lubac again; but one of my colleagues in Berkeley, David Stagaman, S.J., had lived with him in Paris, where David was completing his doctorate at L’Institut Catholique. David and de Lubac normally did not move in the same social circles. Then, suddenly the latter started acting chummily. David soon found out that de Lubac wanted his assistance. De Lubac asked David whether he thought that he could arrange for him to lecture at Loyola University. De Lubac apparently did not realize that the Jesuits in the United States run more than one Loyola University. David belongs to the Chicago province. He responded that he had several friends in the theology department at Loyola in Chicago and that he felt sure they would feel delighted to extend an invitation to him to lecture. David, however, urged de Lubac to take lots of warm clothes, if he went to Chicago in the winter.
“I do not want to go to Chicago,” de Lubac responded. “I want to go to Los Angeles.”
“Well,” David said, “we do have a Loyola University in Los Angeles; but why do you have to lecture there?”
“Because,” de Lubac told him, “ I just got a letter from Karl Rahner who lectured there, and Rahner tells me that I must not die without seeing Disneyland.” Great theologians have their human side.