Covering the White House, I believe, is the best job in journalism. For nine years – eight under President Obama and one under Trump – I was at the White House every day for the daily briefing.

Even though it was part of my daily routine, I never walked up that West Wing driveway without getting goosebumps. For me, it was like entering the Holy of Holies. Like the feeling a Catholic gets walking into St. Peter’s, or a Muslim entering the Blue Mosque, or a Jew praying at the Wailing Wall.

And not once did I ever say to myself: how much better this place would be if it only had a big ballroom. Not once did I ever think I’d see the day when a president could demolish any part of that sacred building. Nor did I ever imagine that a president could destroy the entire East Wing of the White Hou

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