Bob Woodward: Woodward was chilling on his Q Street front steps with a friend, greeting kids and playing along with their costumes (“Is that Spiderman I see?”). His silver bowl held the usual bite-size items: Reese’s, Snickers, and Butterfinger. But he told kids—and us—to take two each. Score!
Ben Bradlee: Trick-or-treaters zoomed straight by this house, which was dark and decoration-free. Was anyone home? Actually, yes. Bradlee answered the door dressed in a snappy suit, glasses around his neck, as if we’d interrupted him from a good book. But he was ready with Fun Size Almond Joys, Reese’s, and Hershey bars. No signs of wife Sally Quinn.
Maureen Dowd: Pink wig and a transcendental costume—did we expect anything less? But she couldn’t just be something guessable like the singer Pink. “I’m a state of mind,” she said. What kind, Maureen? “A depressed state of mind.” Her twentysomething female sidekick had a similarly conceptual getup: A silver shaggy wig made her “a bad taste in your mouth.” Clearly. We interrupted their temporary-tattoo applying but got the most creative candy of the night: Gummy body parts, including a nose, eyeball, fangs, and feet.