Some years ago, I was president of an organization called the Association of Opinion Journalists. Every year we would run a convention in a different city and end it with a celebration in the hotel's ballroom space. Our speaker on that closing night was usually some well-known political opinionator.

Members often talked about inviting the president to give that address, as had happened before. In 1947, Harry Truman spoke to the group (formerly called the National Conference of Editorial Writers), as did Lyndon Johnson in 1966. Other prominent government officials included Vice President Richard Nixon, then-Gov. Ronald Reagan and former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger.

In later years, however, members argued against having the president as speaker because it would subject the attendees to oppressive security checks. After slogging through days of seminars, they wanted to cut loose. The party was for us.

Now consider the recent White House Correspondents' Association Dinner, cut short by an apparent assassination attempt. The target appeared to be the evening's speaker, President Donald Trump, who used the fiasco to hawk his controversial $400 million White House ballroom as a more secure alternative to the Washington Hilton.

A federal judge has frozen the construction for lacking clear legal authority and congressional approval. Congress now has an opportunity to ditch the grandiose plan, saving taxpayers hundreds of millions.

Yes, Trump said it would be paid for by donations, not the taxpayers. The known donor list is heavy with big Wall Street, tech and law firm names. All have business before the federal government. Trump repaying their "kindness" could end up costing taxpayers a great deal. More troubling, some donor identities have been kept secret.

Of course, any events at a palatial White House ballroom would require extra security, and who would pay for that? The taxpayers, of course.

Enter Lindsey Graham. The South Carolina Republican is pushing a bill to tack another $400 million to the national debt to finish what donors were to pay for — and build a security infrastructure, a Secret Service Annex, underneath the ballroom.

As Alabama Republican Katie Britt, a co-sponsor, explained unconvincingly, "This is about our nation having a place to gather."

The White House already has a State Dining Room that seats about 140 guests, and if more room is needed, the East Room can accommodate as many as 300. Why must the president's residence include a ballroom able to hold, according to Trump, nearly 1,000?

The biggest indoor banquet space at the French royal palace of Versailles — the Gallery of Battles — can serve "only" 650 diners max. That happens to be a lot of people.

Meanwhile, why must taxpayers be billed to provide a catering hall big enough for the White House correspondents' annual bash? They are an independent organization, just like the Association of Opinion Journalists was. We paid for our convention space, the big dinner and, yes, security, through dues, contributions and participation fees. Had the taxpayers funded us, I'm sure several members would have written editorials or columns and nowadays produce TikToks condemning the use of public money for a private group.

A word about the correspondents' dinner itself. Over the years, it's morphed into a red-carpet event crafted to glamorize what should be working journalists who cover the president. Now there's a ton of "pregame" coverage of who is going, who is not, who got invited to the Vanity Fair magazine party. And don't leave out the Hollywood celebrities.

In his 1678 Christian allegory, "The Pilgrim's Progress," John Bunyan introduced Vanity Fair as an unseemly marketplace for pleasure, status and worldly ambition. "The name of that Town," Bunyan wrote, "is Vanity."

Sounds a lot like Washington, D.C.

Follow Froma Harrop on X @FromaHarrop. She can be reached at [email protected]. To find out more about Froma Harrop and read features by other Creators writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators webpage at www.creators.com.

Photo credit: René DeAnda at Unsplash