Jubilation...Devastation

 

Union Station, Kansas City, MO

Copyright © 2024 Kansas City Star

"You think you're lost, but you're 

not lost on your own.

I will stand by you, I will help you when you've done all you can do

If you can't cope, I will dry your eyes

I will fight your fight

I will hold you tight

And I won't let go."

--Rascal Flatts

Copyright © 2024

By Ralph F. Couey

Written content only

It was a day of celebration in Kansas City.  The Chiefs had won the Super Bowl yet again and from all over the heartland, people gathered to celebrate.  A glorious, warm mid-winter day, a gift this time of year, added a bit of spring joy to the atmosphere.  In the over one million fans gathered, it would have been tough to find a care in the world.  

A two-mile parade brought the heroes to the place in the city that had seen jubilation before.  Two previous Super Bowl celebrations, and an epic World Series party that, while nearly ten years in the past, still resonates in the memory.  It had always been a place of joy.  It had always been a place of safety.  Nobody ever thought twice about crowding onto the lawn between Union Station and the World War I Memorial, nor lining up 7 or 8 deep along the parade route.  The players got down off the double-decker buses and came right up to the fans, shaking hands, high-fiving, fist-bumping, even hugs.  Jerseys were signed, selfies were taken.  Heroes usually worshipped from afar, became close and personal.

This was KC; it was home; everyone there were neighbors and friends, even if only vicariously.  

There were speeches, fueled by alcohol to be sure, but the kind of thing that gets the heart going and the spirit soaring.  We were champions, and nothing would ever change that.

In that massive crowd, however were a group of people who were not there to celebrate.  They had come to settle a score.  With bullets.  It mattered not that there were innocents present, especially children.  The only thing that mattered was their anger, their hate, their vengeance.  In a moment that will forever live in darkness, they pulled out guns and opened fire.

The shots were heard immediately after the player's speeches had concluded, so many thought at first that it was celebratory fireworks.  Suddenly, the realization hit.  Many saw victims, bleeding from wounds fall to the ground.  Everyone began to run.  But where was safety?  First they ran into Union Station, only to reverse themselves as the violence continued to erupt, this time in front of them.  They ran towards the east, only to hear more shots ring out in that direction.  People milled about in confused terror, concerned only with getting loved ones to safety.  Suddenly an escape route made itself apparent, and everyone moved finally in the one safe direction.  Fear though, had descended.  Family members were separated.  Children, minds blanked by terror, screamed.  

But not everyone fled immediately.  Three of the suspects were chased, tackled, and detained by fans, who went from ordinary to extraordinary with a moment's decision. A group of Dads came across some terrified teenage girls, stopped running, and formed a protective cordon around them.  The heroes they had all come to celebrate became heroes for real.  Players scooped up children and took them to a safe place.  Coach Andy Reid comforted another terrified teen by providing  a sanctuary with his Grandfatherly arms and then repeating, "Breathe.  Just breathe."  Jackson Mahomes, the sometimes troubled brother of Patrick, comforted children as they took refuge on the train platform.  Police, firefighters, paramedics, doctors and nurses from the crowd surged forward to aid the wounded.  So fast were their reactions, that within ten minutes of the first shot, all the wounded were either at or en route to nearby hospitals.  

The stories are still coming out, but it is apparent that in the face of violent tragedy and terror, the spirit of Kansas City--the REAL Kansas City--was asserting itself.  In a city that acts more like community, and a community that seems at times like family, their humanity shown like a beacon on what was a very dark day.

I grew up in Kansas City, so I know the power of that community.  I have seen compassion writ large on a city beset by natural disasters.  I have seen the small courtesies people extend to each other all day, every day, for no other reason than "just because."  It is a place where people's first response to any misfortune is, "How can I help?"  In a place where sports passions scale the highest heights, many are the stories of fans visiting from opposing cities who have been warmly welcomed here.  It is a place where warm hospitality and killer barbecue are specialties of the house.

Nobody knows as of yet the nature of the dispute, or why the cretins involved chose to settle matters in the middle of a crowd of a million people.  And really, does it matter?  There's no justification for their actions, nothing that they can say that in any way will ameliorate their culpability.  Speaking just for me, whatever punishment the law metes out to them, it will not be enough.  Not by a long shot.

As is always the case, pundits and activists raced to make political hay out of this, putting guns at the heart of the arguments, either for or against.

But let me be clear.  It's not the guns.  It's the hate and anger that caused them to be used.  If there were no guns, then there are blades.  If there are no blades, then there are bats and clubs.  If there are no weapons at all, it will be fists and feet, which can still be fatal.  

We live in a divided nation, that divide fueled by two political parties that intentionally and maliciously lie and mislead with the sole intent to create that hate and division, and then profit by it.  So many people have become puppets, dancing on the strings of evil.

These are the voices that drive the violence, the violence that ends in the death of innocents.

We need to stop listening to such voices.  Instead of looking for reasons to hate, find reasons to be friends.  If we reduce the hate, then the violence will recede as well.  We don't have to agree on much just to respect each other.  

Kansas City has been changed.  But not in the way you might think.  It will be stronger, friendlier, even more caring.  The already strong bonds of community have been made unbreakable.  We will always have each other's back, now more than ever.

It was a terrible moment, on the heels of jubilation and unity.  Kansas City now wears an open wound.  Over time, the wound will heal, but the scar will remain, something to be touched and remembered.  For now, Kansas City is hurting, not just those who live there, but those of us who left but kept a piece of that remarkable place in our hearts.  

So, we will hurt together.

And then we will heal. Together.