In almost three decades in journalism, you would think you'd have seen it all. The best, and the worst, that the profession, and those who it encounters, have to offer. And then, in one surreal moment, you find yourself standing in the home of alleged terrorists, as a mob of journalists rifle through everything like looters. It leaves you profoundly challenged. Am I part of this? I'm not looting, I'm not even rifling. I am simply standing there, almost too astonished by what is going on around me to take it all in. Personal papers, government IDs, social security cards, are all being offered up to the television cameras around me for rabid consumption. This is a frenzy, a mob, created at...
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