The glitz of New York’s elite converged under the chandeliers of the Waldorf Astoria on October 16, 2025, for the 79th annual Alfred E. Smith Memorial Foundation Dinner—a black-tie extravaganza where politics, philanthropy, and punchlines collide in the name of Catholic charities. This year’s gala, a beacon of bipartisan bonhomie amid a heated election season, drew heavy hitters from Washington and Wall Street, but it was the Fox News contingent that stole the spotlight, transforming the star-studded affair into their own rollicking reunion. Emily Compagno, Ainsley Earhardt, Lawrence B. Jones, Carley Shimkus, Janice Dean, Kennedy, and Brian Kilmeade—icons of morning TV and fiery debates—descended en masse, trading studio lights for tuxedos and gowns that shimmered like the city’s skyline. Laughter echoed louder than speeches, cocktails flowed freer than campaign promises, and by night’s end, the Fox crew had cemented their status as the evening’s undisputed party squad. Yet, amid the glamour and goodwill, one cheeky revelation from Compagno lit up social media: a beloved co-host skipped the obligatory group photo, not for a power schmooze, but because he was “too busy dancing.” Who was the mystery mover shaking up the dance floor, and what does this playful confession say about the unbreakable bond—and boundless energy—of Fox’s on-air family?

For the uninitiated, the Al Smith Dinner isn’t just any fundraiser; it’s a sacred ritual of the American political calendar, honoring the legacy of New York’s first Catholic governor while raising millions for children’s causes under the watchful eye of Archbishop Timothy Dolan. Past headliners like John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan set the tone for self-deprecating humor, and 2025 was no exception. With the presidential race in full throttle, whispers of surprise appearances and roast-worthy zingers filled the air. But while the political spotlight burned bright—complete with virtual cameos and pointed jabs—the Fox News stars brought an infectious levity that cut through the formality. Arriving in a convoy of sleek limos, they embodied the network’s blend of sharp wit and Southern charm: Compagno, the poised “Outnumbered” co-host, in a sleek emerald gown that hugged her athletic frame; Earhardt, radiant in a controversial drop-waist floral number that sparked endless chatter; Jones, dapper in a tailored tux, his megawatt smile disarming even the stuffiest dignitaries; Shimkus, the fresh-faced “Fox & Friends First” anchor, channeling old Hollywood glamour with waves of blonde cascading over her shoulders.

As the evening unfolded, the Fox faithful turned the Waldorf’s grand ballroom into their personal playground. Seated at prime tables amid Wall Street titans and media moguls, they swapped war stories from the control room—reminiscing about dawn patrols on “Fox & Friends,” the adrenaline of live election coverage, and those infamous on-air blooper reels that never see the light of day. Janice Dean, the meteorologist-turned-advocate whose tenacity has inspired countless battles against government overreach, held court with tales of her latest advocacy wins, her laughter a tonic for the room’s high-stakes vibe. Kennedy—Lisa Kennedy Montgomery, the libertarian firebrand of “Kennedy” fame—brought her signature irreverence, quipping about the night’s “white-tie tyranny” while clinking glasses with unlikely allies. Brian Kilmeade, the ever-energetic “Fox & Friends” veteran, was in his element, bounding from table to table like a man half his age, his bow tie slightly askew from animated gestures. Lawrence B. Jones, the rising star whose baritone voice commands respect on “The Five,” bridged generations with effortless charisma, drawing in younger attendees with stories of his journey from radio prodigy to TV titan.

The real magic, though, happened off-script. Between bites of seared foie gras and sips of vintage champagne, the group orchestrated impromptu sing-alongs to classic crooners, their voices blending in harmonious chaos. Carley Shimkus, often the quiet observer on air, revealed a hidden diva streak, belting out a flawless rendition of “New York, New York” that had nearby tables cheering. Ainsley Earhardt, ever the gracious Southern belle, played den mother, ensuring every plate was passed and every toast raised to absent colleagues like Steve Doocy, who sent video well-wishes from D.C. But as the band struck up a lively swing set, the energy shifted from convivial to contagious. The Fox crew hit the dance floor with the abandon of colleagues who’d weathered storms together—early wake-ups, breaking news marathons, and the relentless grind of 24/7 coverage. Emily Compagno, lithe and laughing, twirled with Jones in a move that screamed rehearsal-free precision, while Kennedy unleashed a series of sassy two-steps that left onlookers in stitches.

It was amid this whirlwind that the night’s viral moment crystallized. As photographers circled for the requisite group shot—a tradition as ironclad as the event itself—the Fox stars assembled like a well-oiled unit, arms linked, grins wide under the ballroom’s golden glow. Compagno, ever the quick-witted instigator, grabbed the mic for a lighthearted roll call, her voice booming with mock authority: “Alright, Fox family—where’s our missing link? Oh, right, he’s too busy dancing to pose for posterity!” The crowd erupted as heads turned toward the dance floor, where the culprit was indeed mid-spin, oblivious to the fuss. The revelation, captured in a flurry of iPhone videos that exploded across Instagram and X by morning, turned the gala into fodder for memes and morning-show teases. Fans flooded timelines with heart-eyes emojis, dubbing it “Fox’s Fosse Moment” and speculating wildly on the dancer’s identity—though insiders know it’s the kind of harmless ribbing that keeps their on-air chemistry crackling.

This wasn’t just gossip fodder; it was a window into the soul of Fox News’ enduring appeal. In an era where media divides run deep, these stars represent a rare camaraderie forged in the foxholes of live television. They’ve mourned together—Janice Dean’s poignant tributes to her in-laws lost to COVID policies still resonate—and celebrated milestones, from Shimkus’ cookbook launch to Earhardt’s quiet philanthropy drives. The Al Smith Dinner, with its ethos of unity over division, amplified that bond, reminding attendees that beneath the headlines, they’re a family bound by shared battles and unbreakable loyalty. As the night wound down with Archbishop Dolan’s benediction and a final round of cigars on the terrace, the Fox crew lingered, plotting their next on-air reenactment of the dance-floor drama. Compagno later posted the photo sans the absentee, captioning it: “Great nights with greater friends—next time, bring your dancing shoes to the pic!”

In the days since, the moment has rippled outward, humanizing the network’s faces in a way polls and punditry never could. Viewers tuned in sharper-eyed to “Fox & Friends,” spotting the subtle winks and inside jokes that hint at off-camera antics. For the stars themselves, it was a breather—a chance to trade power suits for party shoes and let loose among peers who get the grind. As election night looms, with its promise of nail-biting drama, this lighthearted interlude serves as a reminder: even in the arena’s roar, a little dance can keep the spirit soaring. Who knows what encore they’ll deliver next? One thing’s certain—the Fox reunion at Al Smith was the gala’s true headliner, proving that when these stars align, the party’s just getting started.