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Every generation struggles with the fact that in the centuries to come, their own members will populate the rosters of history. Glancing around the table, it was hard for us to imagine that any of the bright-eyed twenty-year-olds here, smart and motivated as we were, would ever achieve the stature or impact to rival the thick-jowled guest before us. Kissinger to us was one of the last Great Men, a museum exhibit come to life. We scrutinized him for the duration of the two-hour meeting, like astronomers crowded around a fallen bit of debris from outer space. Afterward we each shook his hand. Most of us found that we towered over him and that there was nothing intimidating about his grip or his labored octogenarian shuffle. The most scandalous moment came after the group photograph, while we were pulling on our coats and chatting quietly. Someone spotted Kissinger standing in the corner talking on his cell phone. How could Henry Kissinger have a cell ph