What it was like in the room as shots rang out at correspondents’ dinner

It was a typical Saturday evening at the Washington Hilton when a sudden, thunderous noise shattered the calm. I was just setting down my utensils when the sound erupted near the ballroom’s main entrance, catching me off guard. I paused, as if hearing the sound twice. In an instant, I recognised the deep, rhythmic thud characteristic of semi-automatic firearms. As someone who relies on auditory cues, I picked up the shattering of glass, followed by the sudden movement of my colleague Daniel, who dove beneath the table. I instinctively followed, crouching under the tablecloth, certain that another shooting had unfolded in the midst of a presidential event.

Earlier that evening, I had seen Health Secretary RFK Jr in a small room adjacent to the ballroom. He joked about his appetite, saying he was eager to begin the dinner. The security at the venue itself felt surprisingly lenient—law enforcement had closed roads around the Hilton for hours, but the man at the entrance only glanced briefly at my ticket from six feet away. We took the elevator to the ballroom, and an agent scanned me without much concern for the bleeps from my inside jacket pocket. No one asked for a full search, leaving the atmosphere eerily routine.

“I was hungry and wanted to get on with it,” RFK Jr had said, his words lighthearted despite the tension in the air.

Minutes later, chaos erupted. People screamed, stampeded, and scattered as dozens fled into the ballroom from the corridor. We were pinned beneath the table, waiting for more gunfire. A colleague described seeing Secret Service agents rush the president, first lady, and vice-president toward safety. Others stood guard, weapons aimed at the crowd, scanning for additional threats. Near the main doors, FBI Director Kash Patel knelt on the floor, shielding his girlfriend as an agent sprinted to his side.

The event in Butler, Pennsylvania, earlier that year had left a lingering sense of vulnerability. This time, the question lingered: how had the shooter managed to approach so closely? Despite the heightened security measures, the immediate reaction was one of disbelief. As we tried to secure phone signals for live updates, the weight of the situation settled in. There was that familiar ache at the eyes—a reminder of the countless such moments the nation had endured, each one a test of fate.