Opinion | Regarding Henry Kissinger

Before I knew him in the flesh, he was a presence on the screen—a shock of white hair, a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles, and a gravelly voice out of history: Henry Kissinger on Zoom.

It was July 2020, and I was interviewing to become a researcher at Kissinger Associates. Halfway through, a nurse edged a cup of tea and a serving of carrot cake into view. Before indulging, he turned and said to me: “The first time I did this on Zoom, I said, . . . ‘Why don’t you bring some for our guests?’ ” He smiled and his voice softened as he spoke. There it was, the self-deprecating humor. Ninety-seven years old and winking at senescence.

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