![Henry Kissinger dies at 100 in Kent](https://lakevillejournal.com/media-library/henry-kissinger-signing-books-in-the-kent-memorial-library.jpg?id=50873431&width=980&quality=90)
Henry Kissinger signing books in the Kent Memorial Library.
Photo by Lans Christensen
KENT — Henry Kissinger, 100, one of the most controversial figures of the latter half of the 20th century, died at his Kent home Wednesday, Nov. 29, according to a statement from his consulting firm, Kissinger Associates.
The statement said: “He will be interred at a private family service. At a later date there will be a memorial service in New York City.”
He is survived by his wife, Nancy (Maginnes) Kissinger; two children: David and Elizabeth; and five grandchildren.
Kissinger had made a home in Kent since the early 1980s, when he bought the Henderson Blueberry Farm on Henderson Road. He was active in diplomatic circles until the end of his long life, and it was there he met with Chinese Ambassador to the United States Xie Feng on May 26 of this year, the day before his 100th birthday. The pair reportedly had an in-depth exchange of views on China/U.S. relations, and international and regional issues of common interest.
In July, Kissinger traveled to China where he met President Xi Jinping and other Chinese leaders in Beijing.
Despite his larger-than-life impact on the world stage, Kissinger engaged with his fellow townspeople. He supported the Kent Volunteer Fire Department and attended its carnival every year that he was able, where he and his wife would stop for a grinder at the Rod and Gun Club booth before going on to the bingo tent to play with family, employees, and friends such as the late designer Oscar de la Renta.
A good friend of Dolph and Audrey Traymon, he would often broadcast interviews from the Traymons’ Victorian house on Main Street and dine at their restaurant, the Fife ’n Drum.
Early in his Kent residency, he even used his vaunted diplomatic skills to smooth over a local kerfuffle over blueberries growing on his property. There was an outcry from the community about the destruction of the blueberry bushes that had a been a staple of Pick-Your-Own in Kent for years. Kissinger donated the blueberry bushes to Kent School, and they were planted at the girls school campus atop Skiff Mountain, now Marvelwood School. Kent residents have had free access to the bushes ever since.
Earlier in the 2000s, he participated in a program on Russia presented by the Kent Informal Club and the Kent Memorial Library.
Ken Cooper, then-president of the library board, knew the Kissingers well. “There is so much to say [about him],” Cooper said. “Those of us in Kent saw a different side of Dr. Kissinger as a regular, normal presence in our community. He was a regular guy and very gracious to everyone. He was very supportive of the land trust, the library and the fire department. He loved nature and pets — his dog ate supper at the table with him every night.
“When we started the lecture series,” Cooper continued, “he was instrumental in bringing major international figures to speak in Kent. One of striking things I remember is that we were very honored when [civil rights leader] John Lewis came to speak. We had a dinner for him the evening before, and we invited Dr. Kissinger and Nancy to attend. Dr. Kissinger stood up in the middle of the dinner and raise his glass in a toast to John Lewis. He said, ‘You are a Democrat, and I am a Republican, but I want you to know that we are deeply indebted as a country, and I am indebted as a citizen, for your contribution to civil rights in our country.’ I thought that was a very magnanimous thing to do.”
Cooper noted that Kissinger and his wife were a team. “Nancy and Henry were a team, they would finish each other’s sentences,” he said. “They were very affectionate, very fond and respectful of each other. And they made sure they shared credit for anything they did.”
But his time in Kent was just a homely backdrop to his career in what has been termed “the most powerful secretary of state of the post-war era.” His complicated legacy still resonates in this nation’s relations with China, Russia and the Middle East. Kissinger engineered opening relations between China and the United States during the Nixon administration, negotiated America’s withdrawal from Vietnam and a détente with the Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War.
In the 1970s, Kissinger, who described power as an aphrodisiac, was second in power only to President Richard M. Nixon, having joined the Nixon White House in January 1969 as national security adviser and later serving as secretary of state. When Nixon resigned, he stayed on under President Gerald Ford.
He advised 12 presidents, from John F. Kennedy to Joe Biden. His cunning and a ruthlessly practical approach to international relations caused him to be heralded by some and reviled by others. His secret negotiations with China led to Nixon’s most famous foreign policy achievement and was designed to isolate the Soviet Union. It set the stage for today’s complex and sometimes fraught relationship between the two dominant economies. He was the only American to deal with every Chinese leader from Mao to Xi.
His involvement in the United States’ role in Vietnam was deeply divisive. Reportedly never persuaded the United States could win the guerrilla war, he nevertheless guided the Nixon administration in some of its most controversial moves. He was accused of breaking international law by authorizing the secret carpet-bombing of Cambodia in 1969-’70, an action against a neutral nation designed to root out the pro-Communist Vietcong forces operating across the border. The indiscriminate bombing killed 50,000 civilians.
He was known to quip: “The illegal we do immediately. The unconstitutional takes a little longer.”
He negotiated the Paris
Peace Accords that ended American involvement in Vietnam, calling it “peace with honor,” and was awarded the 1973 Noble Peace Prize for his role, but critics argued he could have made the same deal years earlier, saving thousands of lives.
He was the architect of the Nixon administration’s efforts to topple Chile’s democratically elected Socialist president, Salvador Allende. And when Pakistan’s U.S.-backed military was waging a genocidal war in East Pakistan [now Bangladesh] in 1971, he and Nixon ignored pleas to stop the massacre and approved weapons shipments to Pakistan, whose president served as a conduit for Kissinger’s courtship of China. At least 300,000 people were killed in East Pakistan and 10 million refugees were driven into India.
Once an advocate of limited nuclear war, he later reversed his opinion, conceding it might not be possible to contain escalation. By the end of his life, he had embraced the effort to gradually eliminate all nuclear weapons and, at age 95, began to warn against weapons controlled by artificial intelligence.
Courtesy of the Kent Good Times Dispatch, Kentgtd.org
Kissinger was born Heinz Alfred Kissinger to Louis and Paula (Stern) of Fürth, Bavaria, on May 27, 1923. His father lost his job in 1935 when the Nuremberg Laws forbade Jews from teaching in state schools. For three years, Paula Kissinger sought a way to get the family out of the country and, in 1938, the family was allowed to leave Germany when Kissinger was 15. When war broke out, at least 13 of the family’s close relatives died in concentration camps.
The Kissingers settled in Washington Heights, then a haven for German Jewish refugees. His father got a job as a bookkeeper but never fully adjusted to his adopted land. Kissinger dropped the Germanic “Heinz” in high school and adopted the name Henry. In 1940, he enrolled in City College, excelling in his classes, before being drafted by the Army in 1943.
The Army and the war were transformative for the young soldier. He heard a talk about the “moral and political stakes of the war,” and it reportedly changed the direction of his life. He served in Germany as a translator and, in the last months of the war, interrogated captured Gestapo officers and read their mail. He received a Bronze Star for his participation in efforts to uncover sabotage campaigns against American forces.
After the war, Kissinger remained in Germany as a civilian instructor teaching American officers how to uncover former Nazi officers, work that allowed him to crisscross the country. He was alarmed by what he saw as Communist subversion of Germany.
He returned to the United States in 1947 to resume his college education, entering Harvard as a sophomore. He remained at that august institution for two decades, finding fame as a professor before the divisiveness of the Vietnam War drove a wedge so sharply between him and his colleagues he vowed never to return.
Kissinger graduated summa cum laude in 1950, and with the Korean War underway, accepted consulting work for the government that took him to Japan and South Korea. He returned to Harvard to earn a Ph.D. and he and political science professor William Elliott started the Harvard International Seminar, a network that produced a number of leaders in world affairs.
Mr. Kissinger received his Ph.D. in 1954 and Kissinger joined an elite study group at the Council on Foreign Relations, whose mission was to study the impact of nuclear weapons on foreign policy. It was there that he produced his first book, a bestseller titled “Nuclear Weapons and Foreign Policy.”
In it, he argued that if an American president is paralyzed by fear of escalation, the concept of nuclear deterrence will fail. Many scholars panned the book, believing Kissinger had overestimated the nation’s ability to keep limited war limited; to this day scholars refer to it, looking for lessons to apply to cyberwarfare.
The success of the book led Kissinger back to Harvard as a lecturer. His classes were popular, but he was soon immersed in academic politics. He received tenure in 1959, announced by his old champion, Dean MacGeorge Bundy. By 1961 Bundy was national security adviser to John F. Kennedy, but Kissinger was unsuccessful in following him to the White House.
At this time, Kissinger renewed his friendship with Nelson Rockefeller, who then appeared to be a good presidential prospect for 1968. He also met a junior Rockefeller aid, Nancy Maginnes, whom he married years later. Kissinger had earlier married Anneliese “Ann” Fleischer in 1949. They had two children, Elizabeth and David, and divorced in 1964.
Kissinger wrote speeches for Rockefeller denouncing his Republican rival, Richard Nixon. But when Nixon won the nomination, Kissinger accepted an invitation to serve on Nixon’s foreign policy board. He was said to have used his own contacts to funnel information about Lyndon Baines Johnson’s Paris negotiations with the Vietnamese back to the Nixon campaign.
Whether he did or did not, Kissinger was on Nixon’s radar, and after the election, he was appointed national security adviser. Nixon directed Kissinger to run national security affairs from the White House, cutting out the State Department and Nixon’s own secretary of state, William P. Rogers. Kissinger consolidated his power, meeting often with Nixon, often without staff members present, laying the groundwork for his long and convoluted history as one of America’s premier architects of foreign policy.
Courtesy of the Kent Good Times Dispatch, Kentgtd.org
Jan. 27 marked the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau. I traveled to Poland as part of a delegation for the commemoration and spent a few days before the event with my father and sister learning, remembering and gathering information.
My dad’s parents, Miriam and Yehuda, of blessed memory, were deported to Auschwitz -Birkenau from the Lódz Ghetto. They both had families that perished and met each other after the camp was liberated.
The gate at Auschwitz. Natalia Zukerman
I put my feet in the train tracks where they would have arrived, ran my hands across the walls of the horrible gas chambers, the broken wood of the crowded bunks, gathered dirt in my shoes where they would have walked, and made sure to touch the trunks of the trees along the path—innocent witnesses.
My father’s parents survived. How did they do it? Miriam was quickly sent to a work camp on the Czech border, and Yehuda played violin in the Auschwitz orchestra (aka the Death Orchestra). Music saved him. A million miracles saved them both.
Many members of our extended family did not survive.
Suitcases taken from prisoners at Auschwitz.Natalia Zukerman
Cuikerman was the original Polish spelling of our name. We poured over page after page of our name in the Book of Names. I can’t explain it, but as I read the names—aloud and quietly—I felt some of their spirits finally release.
Innocent witnesses.
I never wanted to come to Auschwitz-Birkenau. I grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust. It was part of our dark story. From the time I was very little, I saw all the images, watched the movies, read the books. I’ve had nightmares my whole life. I remember the tattoo on my grandmother’s forearm. This was enough.
But until you stand in the field the size of a city and look out at the expanse of crematoria, gas chambers, bunkers, the enormity and scale is just a story, words on a page. Now I have metabolized it in a different way. Now it is part of my DNA on a deeper level. Now I am changed.
A crematorium at Auschwitz.Natalia Zukerman
On Holocaust Remembrance Day, world leaders from fifty countries—including King Charles, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, Emmanuel Macron, Justin Trudeau and so many more— gathered with survivors and their families, musicians, friends and patrons of the organization in an enormous tent at the entrance to Birkenau. A freight train stood in front of the main gate. The car, from Germany, honors the 420,000 Hungarian Jews deported in 1944. Its conservation was funded by Frank Lowy, whose father, Hugo, was killed in the camp.
It radiated with horror in almost theatrical lighting, its now silenced whistle audible in the memories of all who gathered.
I listened to survivor after survivor speak. I watched as each world leader lit candles in remembrance. I said Kaddish (the Jewish prayer for the dead) with the several thousand people present.
But I only heard one person, 99-year-old Polish-born Swedish-Jewish doctor Leon Weintraub, utter any words that made sense to me, to my very fragile and shaken heart. He became a doctor after the war and told the group gathered the one absolute truth: there is only one race—the human race. He talked about the fact that under the skin, we are the same, words that were beyond powerful. In the very place where the most evil “experiments” were conducted to prove the supremacy of the Aryan race, this man stood there in all his beautiful bravery and told the truth. He was able, for a moment, to remove a hierarchy of care and replace it with an expansive, human appeal. He brought the memory of all the people killed, not just the Jews when he said, “be sensitive to all manifestations of intolerance and dislike of those who differ in terms of skin color, religion or sexual orientation.” He widened the conversation, lest we also forget the Romani, queer, disabled, dissidents and more that were also victims of the Nazis. Lest we forget the lesson of Gandhi when he said, “intolerance itself is a form of violence.”
Weintraub ended by saying, “allowing the memory of millions of innocent victims to fade would be equivalent to robbing them of their lives a second time.”
Shoes taken from prisoners.Natalia Zukerman
There are multiple genocides on planet earth right now. There are humans in actual concentration camps as I write this. There are whole populations being murdered.
After this experience, more than ever, I vow to speak the truth as loudly and as often as I can.
Speaking up, questioning and protesting is not only not antisemitism, it defines the core principles of what it means to be Jewish.
A beautiful Jewish human named Albert Einstein said, “Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.”
This must and will be my task. Nothing else makes any sense.
Prisoners slept four to a bunk at Birkenau.Natalia Zukerman
Dina La Fonte
The “sober curious” movement has gained momentum in recent years, encouraging individuals to explore life without alcohol—whether for health reasons, personal growth, or simple curiosity. Dina La Fonte, a certified recovery coach, is the Senior Business Affairs Associate at Mountainside, an alcohol and drug addiction treatment center with a holistic approach to wellness that has several locations, including the one in Canaan, Connecticut. With nearly five years of sobriety, La Fonte blends professional expertise with lived experience, making her a powerful advocate for recovery.
Like many, La Fonte’s path to recovery was not just about removing alcohol; it was about rediscovering herself. “Once you get sober from a substance, whether it’s alcohol, drugs, gambling or what have you, emotional aspects of change come into place,” she explained. “It’s not a hard stop; it’s a continued process of integration and struggle.” Her own journey has led her to a career in recovery coaching, allowing her to help others find their own path.
“What I love about my work at Mountainside is that it allows me to be who I am without forcing me into a mold,” she said. “In recovery, we identify our authentic voice, establish boundaries, and clarify what we truly want.”
La Fonte explained that the rise of the “sober curious” movement may reflect a cultural shift in how we approach alcohol and self-care. La Fonte attributes this change to open conversations that break down stigma. “Even five or six years ago, admitting you had a problem came with embarrassment,” she said. “Now, the more we discuss it, the more people realize they’re not alone.” This newfound openness has perhaps made it easier for some individuals to explore sobriety and even do so without the pressure of a lifelong commitment.
Beyond emotional well-being, La Fonte also noted the physical benefits of sobriety. “It wasn’t immediate, but after a year, I noticed my skin clearing up, my energy improving, and my confidence growing,” she recalled. “Casual drinking dehydrates the skin, affects sleep, and contributes to inflammation. When people realize how much better they feel without alcohol, they want to hold onto that.”
In her role at Mountainside, La Fonte has expanded beyond coaching to influence organization-wide initiatives. “I still work directly with clients, but now I also help evolve how we support them,” she said. “Mountainside takes a holistic approach—integrating yoga, grief therapy, sound baths, and more. It’s not about pushing people through a system; it’s about meeting them where they are.”
La Fonte uses her social media platform as a “micro-influencer” to promote sober living and wellness. “I focus on positivity in sobriety—whether it’s skincare, self-care, or mental health. I test vegan and cruelty-free products, but I only promote what aligns with my values.”
For those exploring sobriety, La Fonte’s message is simple: “I’m not here to judge. I’m here to help.” She encourages open conversations and meeting people where they are. “If you’re curious about sobriety, let’s talk. I don’t need to know you to be proud of you. I don’t need to know you to love you. I already love you.Just reaching out is a huge step.”
With voices like La Fonte’s leading the conversation, perhaps the sober curious movement is more than a trend—it’s a cultural shift redefining what it means to live fully and authentically.
To contact Dina La Fonte, email her at dina.lafonte@mountainside.com, explore the Mountainside website at mountainside.com, or follow La Fonte on Instagram @dinalafonte
James Shay signed copies of his book “Mohawk Mountain Skl Area: The Birth of Snowmaking” after a talk at Hotchkiss Library of Sharon Feb. 2.
The Hotchkiss Library of Sharon hosted local author James Shay Feb. 2 for a talk on his new book “Mohawk Mountain Ski Area: The Birth of Snowmaking.”
The book follows the life of Mohawk founder Walt Schoenknecht and his important contributions to the sport of skiing.
The evening presentation was delivered to an engaged audience of skiing fans in the library’s main room. Shay began his talk with a few photographs of views from the top of Mohawk Mountain, showing distant mountain ranges, uniquely eroded rock faces and structures that still stand from the times of the revolutionary war.
Shay showed pamphlets, posters and original hand drawn maps and designs from when Mohawk first opened in 1947.
Shay spoke about the life of Walt Shoenknecht, the main subject of his book. Shoenknecht founded the Mohawk ski trails in 1947, leasing the land in 1946 and spending $45,000 on the construction of the ski area.
In Mohawk’s second season, Mohawk did not get any snow and resorted to ordering several tons of ice blocks, crushing them and spreading them on the slopes. This process was time consuming, costly and overall a worse experience than real snow. From this season, Shoenknecht got the idea to look into snowmaking.Shoenknecht enlisted the help of the TEY Manufacturing company, run by Wayne Pierce, Dave Richey and Art Hunt. The three engineers used the research of Ray Ringer to build the first snow making machines. These machines were brought to Mohawk and are the first documented case of a trial run of the snow making machine.
TEY ended up filing the first patent for these devices, and snow machines were installed on the mountain. The machines continued to develop and evolve up through the 1980’s and today there are one hundred modern snow machines on the slopes of Mohawk.
Shoenknecht was inducted into the skiing hall of fame in 1979 for his many contributions to the sport introduced in his ski areas on Mohawk and Mount Snow in Vermont. Today, Shoenkneckt’s daughter Carol Lugar remains the president of Mohawk as one of the few remaining family-owned ski areas in the United States.