What Thomas is really like

In his last days in the White House, he wandered the halls aimlessly, talking to the portraits of former presidents that hung on the walls. He beckoned Kissinger to join him for an unsettling, private moment in the Lincoln Bedroom. “Henry,” he pleaded, “you are not a very orthodox Jew, and I am not an orthodox Quaker, but we need to pray.” Kissinger would rather have not, but when the president dropped to his knees, he had little choice but to follow. When the president seemed finished with his prayers, Kissinger began slowly to rise to his feet. But Nixon remained low to the ground, sobbing and pounding his fists against the bedroom carpet, crying “What have I done? What has happened?” Kissinger crawled over to his grief-stricken leader, embraced him in his arms and helped him to his feet. Several interminable moments passed before Nixon regained his composure. Kissinger scurried back to his office to relate the encounter to his alarmed staff.