There are times you really wonder why you are there, times when you're not sure what is new that you are bringing to the story, or if it was worth taking such a risk. Those questions crossed Chris's mind many times. Chris's best picture from Iraq is a perfect illustration of this. In December 2004, things were getting edgy in Mosul. Reporters were lining up in the Baghdad Green Zone to get on a helicopter that would bring them to the freshest war zone. Chris was with one of them, but as he arrived in Mosul, he learned he was going to be sent to Tal Afar instead. He got mad and complained to the Public Affairs Officer. At this time, Tal Afar was barely known. His embed proved rather boring. Routine patrols with soldiers pointing their guns at buildings, people looking scared, an occasional gun battle, but not much action. Until one day, when a civilian car approached a U.S. checkpoint at sunset. The car wouldn't stop. The soldiers opened fire. Out of the car came a group of children, including a little girl covered in the blood of her parents, who had just been shot. I saw the picture later in the New York Times. I was attending President Bush's inauguration speech in D.C. in January 2005. It spoke to me immediately because, like my daughter, the girl had a way of placing her hands in front of her as if asking for something. In this case it was, "Why are my parents dead?" At the time, the presidential election had cast Iraq aside in the news. The Republicans were savoring their victory. Chris's picture was like a premonition of what was to come.