Somebody to Come Home To

The cowboy on the lonely diplomatic trail, the foreign affairs adviser to Hollywood starlets, the dashing bachelor of Foggy Bottom--he is no more. Only recently revealed as the most-admired man in America, U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, 50, last week abandoned his exaggerated image as a swinger. He got married. Not, as he quipped a couple of months ago, to his most frequent dinner date in that hectic period, Joseph Sisco, his chief adviser on Middle East affairs, but to his longtime close friend, Nancy Maginnes, 39.

It was 4 p.m. on Friday when Francis E. Thomas, juvenile-and domestic-relations judge for Arlington, Va., was asked to be ready to marry an important unnamed Government official the next day. Only an hour before the ceremony was Judge Thomas certain who it would be. While the judge waited, Kissinger played host at a select pre-wedding reception Saturday afternoon at the State Department's Madison Room. The few friends, invited only that morning, included General Brent Skowcroft, a member of the National Security Council, and Columnist Joseph Alsop. Also there were the Secretary's two children, Elizabeth, 15, and David, 12, by his first marriage, his brother Walter, and Nancy's brother David and her mother, Mrs. Albert Bristol Maginnes.

For the informal occasion, Kissinger wore a dark blue suit and bright tie while Nancy was in a gold-flecked beige knit dress and matching coat. Showing no signs of strain after the rigors of his Moscow visit (see THE WORLD), the bridegroom beamed as Skowcroft offered a simple toast with Korbel (California) champagne: "Health and happiness to both of you!" Then, accompanied by their families, the couple drove to Arlington for the four-minute ceremony and were whisked to National Airport, where Nelson Rockefeller's jet was waiting to fly them to Acapulco for a ten-day honeymoon.

Long Legs. Tall, blonde and on the fringes of the Social Register, Nancy, the daughter of a well-to-do White Plains, N.Y., lawyer, completed her education at Harvard. Her teacher: Professor Kissinger, who was also Rockefeller's foreign policy adviser. On his recommendation, Nancy went to work in 1964 as Kissinger's researcher on a Rockefeller task force and, fascinated by foreign affairs, stayed on with the Rockefeller Brothers Fund after Henry was summoned to Washington, and now holds his old job. Her regular reading includes the Times of London and the Economist, and she has been known to take Henry to task about the U.S.'s Viet Nam policy while the bombings were going on.

Some of her co-workers find her aloof--even cool--a very private person. But, says a colleague: "She is not only an intellectual, she's also a very funny, witty girl." A bit bored with her bluestocking image, Nancy recently joked that "I really should have been a showgirl with my long legs." Her height, 5 ft. 10 1/2 in., compared with Henry's 5 ft. 8 in., occasions jokes. Joseph Alsop once toasted her with "She's a great girl, even if she is taller than God."

For nine years, at ballets, basketball games and fancy-dress balls, Nancy has been Henry's steadiest date--and the most discreet one. While he has splashed through the headlines, squiring Mario Thomas, Barbara Walters, Liv Ullman, Samantha Eggar (and being shunned by Gloria Steinem), Nancy stayed mum.

In the past year, her friends have noticed a change. Shedding her deb smartness, she has grown "tremendously glamorous," says one Nancy watcher. And she assumed a more prominent place in Henry's life, acting as hostess for his 50th birthday party last spring for 70 of his friends, including Happy and Nelson Rockefeller, Rosalind Russell and Senator Jacob Javits. Nonetheless she made sure that as little gossip as possible got around about her. She told staffers at the Rockefeller Fund last year never to speak to the press about her. Reporters who spotted her and Henry leaving a Washington hotel together last year said that she "ducked like Greta Garbo." Observing Nancy's reticence, Bette Lord, wife of a high Kissinger aide, says: "It's so nice for him to have someone to come home to."

Latent Extroversion. It is ten years since Kissinger divorced his first wife, Anne Fleischer, who, like him, was a refugee from Germany. The marriage became unstuck around the time Henry's academic star was rising at Harvard, and friends say he began to display a latent extroversion that conflicted with Anne's preference for a quiet, simple life.

Those who have watched Nancy survive Henry's career as America's improbable No. 1 sex symbol credit her success to her intelligence. But then Henry has never pretended that he was serious about anyone else, stating openly that should he get married again, it would be to Nancy. And it has been Nancy who has held off for two years. Says Barbara Walters, a friend of both: "She never capitalized on his position. When everyone was dying to be seen with Henry Kissinger, she was the one who held back." Barbara agreed with critics that Nancy presents a facade of aloofness but "if she trusts you, she is very warm." And helpful, as when Nancy went to some trouble to set up Barbara's Today show coverage of the Inauguration Day ceremonies--but refused to appear on camera herself. As Barbara puts it, "She'll be a lovely, quiet stream in the turmoil of his life."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.