KANSAS CITY, Mo. (news agencies) — “Are you feeling good today, Chiefs Kingdom?” Kansas City Mayor Quinton Lucas shouted to a sea of football fans fresh from their town’s third Super Bowl victory in five years.
Less than an hour later — with music still blaring and the confetti of celebration still hanging in the air — the mayor and throngs of others were running from gunfire, unsure where it was coming from, desperately seeking safety.
At its highest moment of community pride, Kansas City experienced one of 21st-century American culture’s most traumatic events — a public mass shooting. By the time it was over, one woman was dead and nearly two dozen other people were wounded.
Police now blame a dispute among several people. On Friday, authorities said two juveniles were charged with gun-related and resisting arrest charges. Additional charges are expected.
Wednesday’s shootings lasted only moments, their immediate aftermath only a couple hours. But in its wake, the event left a knocked-back community struggling to make sense of how something so positive could turn so quickly into something so terrifying and sad.
As the mayor put it later: “This is absolutely a tragedy, the likes of which we would have never expected in Kansas City, and the likes of which we’ll remember for some time.”
The relationship between local fans and their sports teams is often an intense one. And nowhere more so than at this particular moment in history in this particular town, where talent and luck and success and civic pride blended into an enthusiastic cocktail — one that made sure the festivities Wednesday began on a happy and light note.
For many young fans, the top question was whether Taylor Swift would join her tight-end boyfriend Travis Kelce for the Valentine’s Day festivities. Fans and tabloids breathlessly followed the path of her plane, showing it had landed in Melbourne, Australia, where she had a concert scheduled. That meant she was absent as double-decker red buses rolled down the 2-mile (3.2-kilometer) parade route
No one seemed to mind. There was enough afoot for lots of fun. With many school districts canceling classes, children were among the throngs begging for autographs and exchanging high-fives with their favorite players. Some of the Chiefs wore ski goggles to protect themselves from champagne showers.
The city and its leaders were beaming at being on the world stage, eager to celebrate the Chiefs’ come-from-behind 25-22 win over the San Francisco 49ers in overtime.
“All over the world,” team owner Clark Hunt said at the rally, “they know about this amazing place.”
And Missouri Gov. Mike Parson, addressing the crowd, chided those who dismiss the state as mere “flyover country”: “If you want to see the Lombardi Trophy, you’re going to have to fly your asses to Kansas City, Missouri, and we’ll show you more trophies.”
Nearly every speech was filled with talk about bringing home the trophy again next season for a third straight time. The bravado was stunning from a team that, until 2020, hadn’t won a Super Bowl since 1969.
And the city had embraced the turnaround, T-shirts had been flying off store shelves, Fireworks erupted in neighborhoods after each playoff win. Schools and businesses celebrated “Red Friday” en masse throughout the season.
“Three times. First time in NFL history. We’re doing it. Love y’all,” quarterback Patrick Mahomes vowed. “Three-peat!” the crowd chanted in response.
As the rally waned, Kelce grabbed the mic and began singing his own version of county music singer Garth Brooks’ old standard “Friends in Low Places.” It was a dig at analysts who had written off the Chiefs, who were hardly dominant during the regular season and had entered the playoffs as the AFC’s No. 3 seed.
“We were the last one they would thought they would see there,” Kelce sang as the crowd joined along. Some had climbed trees to watch.
Then: As the sea of red slowly dispersed, a sound. “Pop. Pop. Pop,” recalled one witness. Gunshots. But from where?
Some fans ran. Others stayed put, assuming they were hearing fireworks. Officers rushed toward the scene, guns drawn. Two fans even tackled an armed person. As ambulance sirens blared and helicopters swooped overhead, police cordoned off the rally site with crime scene tape.
“I can see it now, the headline: ‘Dark Day’,” said Gene Hamilton, a 61-year-old from Wichita, Kansas, as he waited behind the tape.