Today's MOZEN: Where Were You, Mr. President?

F LoBuono

If you will indulge me, as a person who has been involved in almost every aspect of journalism for nearly 35 years, I would like to ask our President the following questions:

Where were you, Mr. President, when I spent over a week hovering above the tangled mess that was once the World Trade Center during 9/11, inhaling those toxic fumes?

Where were you, Mr. President, when I drove alone with tens of thousands of dollars of camera equipment down a battered Rte 10 from Mobile, Alabama to Biloxi, Mississippi seeing thousands of headlights leaving and no taillights going in to cover Hurricane Katrina?

Where were you, Mr. President, when we spent over a week with no electricity, clean water, or fresh food, standing endlessly in fetid, foul water while dealing with the aftermath of Katrina?

Where were you, Mr. President, when my reporter and I were running for our lives to escape the flames of a ragging wildfire in Southern California?

Where were you, Mr. President, when I stood for days in the frozen winter's muck, to report (and share) the agonizing heartbreak of the small Connecticut village of Newtown?

Where were you, Mr. President, when I collapsed from heat exhaustion in the 95 plus temperatures in Denver while preparing to cover President Obama's acceptance speech at Invesco Stadium?

Where were you, Mr. President, when in Des Moines to cover the Iowa Caucus it was so cold inside our broadcast tent that the fire extinguisher exploded?

Where were you, Mr. President, when I had to take my reporters hand to try to keep from being washed away while crossing the raging river that used to be the West Side Highway during Hurricane Sandy?

Where were you, Mr. President, when in one of the toughest neighborhoods in Queens, NY, I was surrounded by a crowd of angry men looking for revenge in the death of Sean Bell who was just shot and killed by the NYPD?

Where were you, Mr. President, when I missed endless meals, decades of sleep, countless family events, experienced mind-numbing delays at airports, and, on occasion, moments of shear terror to do my job?

I KNOW where you were, sir - comfortably ensconced in one of your many gilded towers.

So, how DARE you question my integrity, my honesty, and my commitment to my profession. Until you show the same in yours, you will receive the same respect that you have shown me - none.

EPILOGUE: And, through it ALL, it's been a privilege.