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On Saturday night, I attended my White House Correspondents’ Dinner at the Washington Hilton Hotel. This is one of the best dinners in DC to hobknob – to see and be seen. Every time I enter this hotel, I remember that this was the same Hilton where Ronald Reagan was shot and nearly killed 45 years ago. I walked through the same gate where the assassin’s bullet came within an inch of killing Reagan.
I was expecting a very long security line and waited almost an hour to get into the hotel. I brought my paper ticket and my passport.
I was surprised that security was negligent to say the least. Wearing my dress, I entered the front door by flashing a paper ticket. There was no code to scan, and I was never once asked for my ID. I could give that ticket to anyone or use several copies for friends who wanted to attend pre-event parties. That was weird to say the least.
The pre-meeting events hosted by Fox and CNN and the Wall Street Journal, with women in beautiful dresses, lasted about an hour, after which we were ushered into the 2500-seat ballroom for dinner. We checked in through an airport-like scanner, but didn’t ask for ID.
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The room was packed and at 7pm President Trump walked in to a standing ovation – after all, these were a lot of journalists who didn’t like Trump. What shocked me was that after the national anthem and military color guard, Trump and the First Lady sat down to dinner in front of 2500 people. That didn’t strike me as safe or appropriate. To the shooter, God forbid, it looked like he was a sitting duck.
It also touched me that the President, the Vice President and the Speaker of the House Mike Johnson – they were all there. I am told that five of the six consecutive presidents were in this crazy group. That didn’t appear to the nurse either.
About 15 minutes into dinner, I was chatting with Wall Street Journal reporters at my table, when all hell broke loose. The Secret Service came in with pisols and machine guns and suddenly I heard two big bangs, like a bomb going off. There was screaming and we all fell to the floor and many climbed under their tables.
I looked over to the President, and he was surrounded by the Secret Service. They took him out of the chair and pushed him to the exit. My heart sank, I panicked when I saw Trump seem to be stumbling to the ground. You can see that in the video. My God, I gasped, terrified. Trump has been beaten.
Please NO! I was very worried.
None of us knew what was going on.
Secret Service agents stand at the tables. I was seated at a table next to Speaker Johnson and I just had a conversation with him. The Secret Service started shouting: “Where is the Speaker?” His roommates had apparently dragged him under the table. He was taken out.
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For about five minutes it was a scary place, although people lived calmly. I was impressed by the journalists at our table who were quickly writing stories and taking cell phone pictures of the epidemic even though the security of the situation had not been resolved.
The Secret Service was amazing in its quick response. I was saddened that Trump might have been shot again.
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Everyone stood mostly silent, and we were told of one gunman who had been taken down and one officer shot.
We didn’t find out that Trump wasn’t hurt until 20 minutes later.
This was clearly a major security breach on many levels. It was easier to walk into the Hilton to see the president and get 30 feet from him than to attend a sporting event at a Wizards basketball game down the street.
Anyone with a photocopy of the ticket may have entered. No one ever checked my ticket to make sure it was authentic. I saw someone enter the line with a ticket and his date was not there but they waved him in.
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Given the serious threat to the late President and other high-ranking government officials packed into the room, none of this made sense to me.
Clearly, these agreements must be amended.
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