*Top,* Julia Vitale and George Pendle; *above*, Eilif Rosok.

*Top,* Lyndon Kyle Boozer; *above*, guests at the AIR MAIL postcard station.

*Top,* Carri Twigg; *above*, Leigh Ann Caldwell and James Davis.

*Top,* guests in conversation; *above*, Geraldine Byrne Nason.

*Top,* Michelle Miller; *above*, Kenyan McDuffie.

*Top,* Gary Williams; *above*, Tanya Stockdale-Morineau, Roger Nyhus, and Talal Al Rahbi.

*Top,* a guest sending an AIR MAIL postcard; *above*, Gerald Harrington.

*Top,* guests gathered for drinks; *above*, Iain Armitage.

An Afternoon in Washington, D.C.

A day after the White House Correspondents’ Association dinner fiasco, AIR MAIL arrived just in time to provide an (alcoholic) balm and (gossipy) solace to the huddled masses

By George Pendle

Photographs by Daniel Paik

Call us Florence Nightingale. Air Mail took a short hop to the nation’s capital to host a closing party for the White House Correspondents’ Association dinner weekend, and arrived just in time to provide an (alcoholic) balm and (gossipy) solace to the huddled masses who had spent the previous evening sprawled under folding banquet tables as yet another would-be assassin tried to kill Donald Trump. As one wag put it, “One assassination attempt may be regarded as a misfortune, but three … ”

In the leather-buttoned comfort of Ned’s Club, ambassadors, hacks, and wonks showed off their battle scars (a broken heel), roasted the night’s braggarts (cable-TV news anchors), and lauded Wolf Blitzer’s timely trip to the bathroom, which landed him in the midst of the shoot-out. (“That’s the kind of bladder control they don’t teach at journalism school,” declared one wit.)