The day was closing, and already the cops were calling out through their loudspeakers that unless the protesters dispersed, our permits would be revoked. In the face of the massive crowd behind me, it almost seemed like a ludicrous threat...but as more riot gear clad Capitol Police lined up on the steps, some armed with shotguns, their threat felt less then idle. I was so close I could see the faces behind the plexiglass shields, the officer in front of me couldn't have been a day over twenty. I tried talking to him, but he just stared straight through me; leaving me to wonder if this freckled, peach fuzzed kid had it in him to bring that riot stick down on our heads. Looking at the older, more aggressive officers to his left and right, I didn't doubt for a second that he'd follow their lead.

I've been photographing protests since before the war in Iraq began, and I know what can happen when they turn ugly. On the day the war began, I was in San Francisco covering the protests when a police officer's baton caught the side of my face, breaking a wisdom tooth in half and smashing my camera. Ever since then, I've always been wary of getting caught between the cops and the crowd. The strange thing is, when you're in and amongst the crowd, you can't help but feel this vibe that the numbers somehow protect you; that you're on the right side of things, that keeping the crowd behind you and the camera in front will protect you from harm.

It doesn't matter how big the crowd behind you is, or how moral your cause might be....when I saw that second surge of cops standing on the Capitol Building steps lining up the arrested protesters, this terrible feeling just filled me, this idea that "this isn't the way things are supposed to be." That's when I took the shot.