Whatever is eating Lara Logan these days—or maybe consuming is a better word—it all traces back to a time when she was still widely known as a bold and beautiful 60 Minutes war correspondent who had the respect of her peers, solid relationships with U.S. military officials, and a future as big as the Ritz. Or so some intimates will tell you.
Consider the evening several years ago, long before she had a reputation for spouting perplexing political views, when Logan, a veteran of many hair-raising Middle East and Afghanistan assignments, was dining outdoors with friends at a restaurant in Paris near Notre Dame. Everything was fine, her fellow reporter Laura Haim remembers, until a gaggle of young folk cavorted by on the sidewalk, playing with laser pointers like you’d find in any office-supply store.
