It’s no secret to anyone who regularly reads this column or my other writing
that I take full advantage of my First Amendment constitutionally protected
right to speak my mind. And I am certainly not shy about my opinions,
particularly those about the current Trump administration.
To say that I am critical would be a gross understatement. In fact, at times,
my opinions of him and his minions are downright scathing.
Yet, at the same time, when I watch others exercising the same rights that I
I am enjoying at this very moment being harassed, intimidated, beaten, and
even killed, I can’t help but think that if I was being threatened in the same way,
would I still be as bold?
Of course, I’m thinking of the current situation in Minnesota, particularly
Minneapolis. In an effort to enforce President Trump’s draconian
immigration mass deportation policies, thousands of ICE agents have
descended on the city and state. People, American citizens, are being
attacked in the streets, their cars, places of business, schools, and even in
their homes. Use of tear gas, rubber bullets, and other so-called non-lethal
but very destructive methods have been used. And, yes, deadly force has
also been applied as seen in the death of Renee Nicole Good at the hands
of an ICE agent. It’s unconscionable.
And then there’s Iran. The few news reports making it out of the country
show shocking scenes of intense violence in the streets: thousands of
innocent, unarmed protestors clashing with heavily armed riot police and
government troops. Many have been killed on the spot while thousands of
others are scooped up in mass arrests, often to face torture, brutal
treatment, and even execution without trial or due process. Tens of
thousands have already been reported murdered by the Islamic Republic of
Iran. And even more cruelly, the families of those caught protesting are
targeted, too. It’s terrifying.
As a I sit at my keyboard in the relative comfort of my little office in my
modest home in a toney Hudson River village, with my two cars, my cats,
and my lovely partner, I can’t help but wonder how I would react if someone
“in authority” pounded on my front door. What if they said, “Mr. LoBuono,
you have been labeled an enemy of the state for your subversive writing.
You must come with us.” Would I actively resist? What if they threatened to
hurt my family, or take my house or the savings I worked so hard for so
many years to acquire?
As the saying goes, “talk is cheap.” What we’re talking about here is FAR
from that. In fact, we’re talking about losing everything. Now the hardcore
rebel in me, the admirer of Kerouac, Hunter S. Thompson, Steve McQueen
and everything counterculture would say: Spit in their eyes! The moralist in
me would think of the stubborn resistance through the trials and sacrifices
made for the good of humankind by Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, and Martin
Luther King Jr.
Would I stand firm with these giants and make a stand? Or would self-
preservation win the day
I did not get to where I am in life easily. There was no silver spoon in my
mouth. My parents were working-class, first-generation Sicilian-Americans,
who taught me the value of a buck. And they also gave me a strong moral
compass. They both said that when a time of moral reckoning presents
itself, I would know exactly what to do. And, you know what? I knew
precisely what they meant. It would be a feeling more than a thought.
Still, I worked so hard to earn the physical trappings of a happy, successful
life. I began working as a young teenager and continued well into my
sixties. I went to a state university and paid for it myself. With virtually no
Background, I taught myself the necessary tools and found a home in the
TV production/news business, carving out a 40-plus year career with the
last 20 at CBS News. I made money. And I invested it. Successfully. I
worked hard AND I got lucky. But it did not come easily, so the same
should be said for its exit. And so here we are.
Could I easily give it up? The quick, honest answer is no. I mean, why
should I? No one ever gave me anything but a chance. But I can’t help but
hear my parents saying, “Frankie, when the time comes, you will know
what to do. And it will be the right thing.” I have not forgotten.
Frank LoBuono is a Nyack Resident, photographer, blogger and retired CBS News journalist.
Editor’s note: The views expressed in this article are those of this independent writer and not the Nyack News & Views editorial staff. We welcome submissions from anybody who is interested in publishing their thoughts, ideas and perspectives about issues facing our community, both large and small. Please send submissions to info@nyacknewsandviews.com.
Photo credit: Frank LoBuono