Look at their faces — formal, etched with experience, laden with the weight of momentous decisions. Add up their years: 379 to be exact, enough time to take you back into the mid-1600s, when the notion of the American nation was still more than a century away.
Consider why they were there: to bid farewell to a member of their fraternity who was the last of his generation and whose own life began just a few years after World War I’s ashes stopped smoldering.
Bill Clinton. George W.