The parade on Wednesday to celebrate the Kansas City Chiefs’ Super Bowl victory brought hundreds of thousands of people to the city’s streets, a sea of fans clad in the team’s trademark red.But when gunfire began near Union Station, a downtown transit center and tourist hub, around 2 p.m. local time, chaos erupted. Many attendees said it was hard to know where to go.At first, the shots sounded like fireworks, said Ian Johnson, who had been selling hot dogs near the main event stage. Only when fans started running — some of them took shelter under his hot dog tent — did he realize that a shooting was underway.Courtney Brown, of Independence, Mo., and her two sons were also near the stage when the gunfire began. She didn’t hear shots, she said. But she did hear someone shout: “Get down.”Her instincts told her to flee, so she told her children to keep moving. “We were almost trampled twice,” she said. The three of them locked arms and huddled near a barricade until the crush of the crowd had eased.Adrian Robinson had traveled to Kansas City from Gary, Ind., to sell T-shirts. He heard what he thought was a few firecrackers popping, and then he saw hundreds of people running down the street. A minute later, the same people were running back in the opposite direction.Christopher Smith for The New York TimesDominick Williams for The New York Times“People were traumatized, man” Mr. Robinson said. “They were crying. Hyperventilating.”The police said that they had detained three people after the shooting. But as the crowds began to disperse, some parade attendees were left stranded.Zachary Dial and his family had traveled from Richmond, Mo., and parked in a garage by Union Station. A few hours after the parade was over, their car was still off limits, stuck behind crime scene tape, he said.Quinton Lucas, the mayor of Kansas City, had also been downtown for the celebration. “I was there with my wife; I was there with my mother,” he said at a news conference on Wednesday afternoon.“We never would have thought that we, along with Chiefs players, along with fans, hundreds of thousands of people, would be forced to run for our safety today.”Traci Angel More

The coronavirus has left states rapidly searching for ways to protect democracy’s most sacred institution. Source: Elections – nytimes.com More

More from our inbox:Josh Hawley Ran for His Life To the Editor:Re “I Was Wrong” (Sunday Opinion, July 24):Thank you for these columns. Although several seemed slightly grudging, many read as deeply felt self-examinations and sincere efforts to “walk a mile” in the shoes of others.In this age of righteousness on all sides, it takes great courage to approach the pains and the terrors of this world with real humility.What a world this would be if all our leaders — political, journalistic and religious — could allow themselves the sorrow and the glory of thinking, speaking and leading in such a manner!Steve WanghBrattleboro, Vt.To the Editor:The “I Was Wrong” columns were written by some of my favorite gurus. Their honesty and vulnerability in writing these pieces were so emotionally moving, authentic and valuable. Congratulations on putting this together.It meant so much to me, and I have passed the articles on to other colleagues in leadership, as this is what we propose to leaders of organizations in order to build trust. Thank you so much for the decision to do this!Kathy MinardiThe writer is executive director of the Whole School Leadership Institute.To the Editor:I admire Bret Stephens for admitting he was wrong (“I Was Wrong About Trump Voters”). But Mr. Stephens was mostly right.Trump voters were betrayed at least three times. The last time was by President Donald Trump himself; he did nothing for the “unprotected” citizens of the U.S., nor did he even try.Maybe, if Trump voters figure out what they really need and should expect from their government, and where justice is in the culture wars, they will make the right choice in 2024.Anthony J. DiStefanoMilton, Del.To the Editor:So Bret Stephens thinks he was wrong about Trump voters and states, “What Trump’s supporters saw was a candidate whose entire being was a proudly raised middle finger at a self-satisfied elite that had produced a failing status quo.”No, Mr. Stephens, you were not wrong about Trump voters; they simply did not choose to exercise their critical thinking skills to understand that Mr. Trump is one of the “self-satisfied elite” whose only goal in life is to obtain money and power.Moreover, if they had applied their critical thinking skills, they would have very quickly realized that Mr. Trump is a narcissist, a liar, a cheat and a master manipulator who duped them into believing that he is their savior; a 70-something golden-haired billionaire who lived on Fifth Avenue and now a mansion in Florida and who really cares about them! Really?And despite all of the recent information released from the Jan. 6 hearings, the vast majority simply reject it and continue to support Mr. Trump. So, Mr. Stephens, you were not wrong at all about Trump voters, but you are dead wrong in believing that you were and writing about it.Michael HadjiargyrouCenterport, N.Y.To the Editor:Bret Stephens’s mea culpa is spot on. Now who will really listen with an honest ear and a strategic plan for doing something for the multitudes feeling unheard, unappreciated, misunderstood? Old-fashioned town meetings might be the place to start.Dawn KellerHendersonville, N.C.To the Editor:In “I Was Wrong About Capitalism,” David Brooks suggests that his views on the value of regulation have (finally) changed because “sometimes the world is genuinely different than it was before.”While the specific regulations required certainly change with the times (there was, for example, no e-commerce to regulate until relatively recently), the need for well-crafted regulation to rein in the intrinsic detrimental tendencies of the free market, ranging from human exploitation to environmental devastation, is an unchanging truth.Capitalism is like fire; it is a powerful tool that offers transformative benefits to humanity, but, like fire, it must always be carefully managed because it can cause sweeping destruction.R. Daniel Valdes-DapenaCape May, N.J.To the Editor:Re David Brooks’s column:As a Midwestern 87-year-old lefty, I thank you for giving me a tiny sliver of hope in my tired old mind.Would that the ability to open new brain pathways be taught in schools, modeled in the halls of the government system and generally admired.There should be classes in “I was wrong.” It is such a mark of intelligence, and the school systems could redeem themselves from the sin of underpaying generous men and women who cannot break through the traps of the system.I admire you.Sally BrownMinneapolisTo the Editor:Re “I Was Wrong About Al Franken,” by Michelle Goldberg:Senator Franken was swept up in the “one size fits all” frenzy that consumed him predicated, in very large part, on one photo showing a comedian making an attempted joke gone horribly wrong.Even at the time I believed the clamor for his political head was an error. Now, given what has transpired in this nation since that day, and the very distinct possibility that Donald Trump may be his party’s 2024 presidential nominee despite a list of grievances that makes Mr. Franken’s seem as a pebble to a mountain, my belief in the mistaken rush to judgment for Mr. Franken has grown exponentially.I understand the mea culpa of this column. But too little, too late never seemed a more apt reply.Robert S. NussbaumFort Lee, N.J.To the Editor:Re Michelle Goldberg’s column about Al Franken:Thank you for your integrity, rising above pridefulness and acknowledging the costs of abridging due process. We need more of this accountability.Evelyn J. HightowerBlacklick, OhioTo the Editor:Re “I Was Wrong About Facebook,” by Farhad Manjoo:Truth will set you free, but you must be able to recognize it first. Facebook’s cacophony will not help you do that.Edgar PaukBrooklynTo the Editor:I enjoyed the collection of eight admissions from your columnists that they actually realize they were wrong about something. But only eight? This should be a weekly piece, considering how much material there is. I look forward to more of the same.Carl SchwarzNaples, Fla.To the Editor:I got through about three of the “I Was Wrong” columns before realizing that the theme was “I was wrong, but let me equivocate.” I always thought that wrong was wrong; I guess I was wrong (but I can explain).These read like a homework assignment no one wanted to do.Aaron SchurgTraverse City, Mich.Josh Hawley Ran for His Life Oliver Contreras/AFP— Getty ImagesTo the Editor:Re “Video Shows Senator Fleeing Mob He Had Exhorted With a Raised Fist” (news article, July 23):The video of Senator Josh Hawley running for his life as his buddies threatened to become too friendly with him is a perfect symbol of the Republican Party’s cowardice.Mitch McConnell and Kevin McCarthy, of course, lead this pusillanimous bunch of big talkers and small men. That our country should be governed, if that is the correct word, by such a spineless group is sad beyond words.John T. DillonWest Caldwell, N.J. More

Hi. Welcome to On Politics, your guide to the day in national politics. I’m Lisa Lerer, your host.Sign up here to get On Politics in your inbox every weekday.ImageAre Republicans pressing the panic button?Last week, President Trump revived his coronavirus briefings and canceled the Republican National Convention, a tacit acknowledgment of the reality of a virus wreaking havoc on the country — and on his political standing.In Congress, Senate Republicans rejected several of Mr. Trump’s demands for the next pandemic recovery package. Across the country, Republican governors are contradicting the president’s push to reopen. Top party donors are privately discussing whether to redirect funds away from Mr. Trump and toward their imperiled Senate candidates.The usual suspects are separating themselves even more aggressively. Former President George W. Bush won’t support the re-election of Mr. Trump, nor will Senator Mitt Romney of Utah. Senator Susan Collins of Maine, one of the most endangered Republican incumbents up for re-election this year, is also declining to support Mr. Trump, as is Maryland’s governor, Larry Hogan. Last week, the Republican mayor of Miami told me the same.Certainly, there’s reason for Republicans to worry. As of this weekend, there are less than 100 days to go before the election. And right now, all the signs point toward a Democratic landslide.Last Thursday, the Cook Political Report predicted that Democrats were slightly favored to win the Senate majority. A week earlier, the political forecasters there shifted ratings in 20 House districts to Democrats.“I can’t recall the last time we moved so many races at once, let alone in the same direction,” tweeted Dave Wasserman, Cook’s House editor. The problem facing Republican candidates is simple: Mr. Trump. His abysmal numbers are dragging them down, from Maine to Arizona. So far, there’s little sign that’s changing.Joseph R. Biden Jr. has held a nearly double-digit lead in an average of polls for more than a month. The last time a candidate sustained such a large advantage for so long was nearly 25 years ago, when Bill Clinton led Bob Dole in 1996.The University of Virginia’s Crystal Ball recently moved seven traditional Republican strongholds — Alaska, Indiana, Kansas, Missouri, Montana, South Carolina and Utah — into the slate of potentially competitive presidential races. Last week, Cook moved Florida, traditionally the country’s largest battleground prize, from a tossup to favoring Mr. Biden. More

Far-right groups stockpiling guns and explosives, preparing for a violent overthrow of a government they deem illegitimate. Open antisemitism on the airwaves, expressed by mainstream media figures. Leading politicians openly embracing bigoted, authoritarian leaders abroad who disdain democracy and the rule of law.This might sound like a recap of the last few years in America, but it is actually the forgotten story told in a remarkable new podcast, Ultra, that recounts the shocking tale of how during World War II, Nazi propagandists infiltrated far-right American groups and the America First movement, wormed into the offices of senators and representatives and fomented a plot to overthrow the United States government.“This is a story about politics at the edge,” said the show’s creator and host, Rachel Maddow, in the opening episode. “And a criminal justice system trying, trying, but ill-suited to thwart this kind of danger.”Maddow is, of course, a master storyteller, and never lets the comparisons to today’s troubles get too on the nose. But as I hung on each episode, I couldn’t help think about Jan. 6 and wonder: Will that day and its aftermath be a hinge point in our country’s history? Or a forgotten episode to be plumbed by some podcaster decades from now?When asked about the meaning of contemporary events, historians like to jokingly reply, “Ask me in 100 years.” This week, the committee in the House of Representatives investigating the Jan. 6 Capitol riot will drop its doorstop-size report, a critical early installment in the historical record. Journalists, historians and activists have already generated much, much more material, and more is still to come.In January, a Republican majority will take over the House and many of its members have pledged to begin their own battery of investigations, including an investigation into the Jan. 6 investigation. What will come from this ouroboros of an inquiry one cannot say, but it cannot help but detract from the quest for accountability for the events of that day.Beyond that, polling ahead of this year’s midterm elections indicated that Americans have other things on their minds, perhaps even more so now that the threat of election deniers winning control over voting in key swing states has receded. But what it means for the story America tells itself about itself is an open question. And in the long run, that might mean more accountability than our current political moment permits.Why do we remember the things we remember, and why do we forget the things we forget? This is not a small question in a time divided by fights over history. We all know the old saying: Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. But there is another truism that to my mind often countervails: We are always fighting the last war.The story that Maddow’s podcast tells is a doozy. It centers on a German American named George Sylvester Viereck, who was an agent for the Nazi government. Viereck was the focus of a Justice Department investigation into Nazi influence in America in the 1930s. For good reason: Lawmakers helped him in a variety of ways. One senator ran pro-German propaganda articles in magazines under his name that had actually been written by Viereck and would deliver pro-German speeches on the floor of Congress written by officials of the Nazi government. Others would reproduce these speeches and mail them to millions of Americans at taxpayer expense.Viereck also provided moral and financial support to a range of virulently antisemitic and racist organizations across the United States, along with paramilitary groups called the Silver Shirts and the Christian Front. Members of these groups sought to violently overthrow the government of the United States and replace it with a Nazi-style dictatorship.This was front-page news at the time. Investigative reporters dug up scoop after scoop about the politicians involved. Prosecutors brought criminal charges. Big trials were held. But today they are all but forgotten. One leading historian of Congress who was interviewed in the podcast, Nancy Beck Young, said she doubts that more than one or two people in her history department at the University of Houston knew about this scandal.Why was this episode consigned to oblivion? Selective amnesia has always been a critical component of the American experience. Americans are reared on myths that elide the genocide of Indigenous Americans, the central role of slavery in our history, America’s imperial adventures and more. As Susan Sontag put it, “What is called collective memory is not a remembering but a stipulating: that this is important, and this is the story about how it happened.”Our favorite stories are sealed narrative boxes with a clear arc — a heroic journey in which America is the hero. And it’s hard to imagine a narrative more cherished than the one wrought by the countless books, movies and prestige television that remember World War II as a story of American righteousness in the face of a death cult. There was some truth to that story. But that death cult also had adherents here at home who had the ear and the mouthpiece of some of the most powerful senators and representatives.It also had significant support from a broad swath of the American people, most of whom were at best indifferent to the fate of European Jewry, as “The U.S. and the Holocaust,” a documentary series by the filmmakers Ken Burns, Lynn Novick and Sarah Botstein that came out in September, does the painful work of showing. A virulent antisemite, Rev. Charles E. Coughlin, hosted by far the biggest radio show in the country. At his peak in the 1930s about 90 million people a week tuned in to hear his diatribes against Jews and communism.In some ways, it is understandable that this moment was treated as an aberration. The America First movement, which provided mainstream cover for extremist groups, evaporated almost instantly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Maybe it was even necessary to forget. When the war was over there was so much to do: rebuild Europe, integrate American servicemen back into society, confront the existential threat of nuclear war with the Soviet Union. Who had the time to litigate who had been wrong about Germany in the 1930s?Even professional historians shied away from this period. Bradley Hart, a historian whose 2018 book “Hitler’s American Friends” unearthed a great deal of this saga, said that despite the wealth of documentary material there was little written about the subject. “This is a really uncomfortable chapter in American history because we want to believe the Second World War was this great moment when America was on the side of democracy and human rights,” Hart told me. “There is this sense that you have to forget certain parts of history in order to move on.”As anyone who has been married for a long time knows, sometimes forgetting is essential to peace. Even countries that have engaged in extensive post-conflict reconciliation processes, like South Africa and Argentina, were inevitably limited by the need to move on. After all, you make peace with your enemies, not your friends.The aftermath of Jan. 6 is unfolding almost like a photo negative of the scandal Maddow’s podcast unfurls. With very few exceptions almost everyone involved in the pro-Nazi movement escaped prosecution. A sedition trial devolved into a total debacle that ended with a mistrial. President Harry Truman, a former senator, ultimately helped out his old friend Senator Burton K. Wheeler, a figure in the plot to disseminate Nazi propaganda, by telling the Justice Department to fire the prosecutor who was investigating it.But the major political figures involved paid the ultimate political price: they were turfed out of office by voters.Many of the perpetrators of the Jan. 6 riot, on the other hand, have been brought to justice successfully: Roughly 900 people have been arrested; approximately 470 have pleaded guilty to a variety of federal charges; around 335 of those charged federally have been convicted and sentenced; more than 250 have been sentenced to prison or home confinement. Stewart Rhodes, the leader of the Oath Keepers, was convicted of seditious conspiracy, the most serious charge brought in any of these cases. In their report to be released this week, the Jan. 6 committee is expected to recommend further criminal indictments. One big question looming over it all is whether former President Donald Trump will be criminally charged for his role in whipping up the frenzy that led to the assault on the Capitol.A broader political reckoning seems much more distant. Election deniers and defenders of the Jan. 6 mob lost just about every major race in swing states in the 2022 midterms. But roughly 200 Republicans who supported the lie about the 2020 election being stolen won office across the country, The New York Times reported.What larger narrative about America might require us to remember Jan. 6? And what might require us to file it away as an aberration? The historian’s dodge — “ask me in 100 years” — is the only truly safe answer. But if the past is any guide, short-term political expediency may require it to be the latter.After all, it is only now that decades of work by scholars, activists and journalists has placed chattel slavery at the center of the American story rather than its periphery. What are the current battles about critical race theory but an attempt to repackage the sprawling, unfinished fight for civil rights into a tidy story about how Black people got their rights by appealing to the fundamental decency of white people and by simply asking nicely? In this telling, systematic racism ended when Rosa Parks could sit in the front of the bus. Anything that even lightly challenges finality of racial progress is at best an unwelcome rupture in the narrative matrix; at worst it is seen as a treasonous hatred of America.History, after all, is not just what happened. It is the meaning we make out of what happened and the story we tell with that meaning. If we included everything there would be no story. We cannot and will not remember things that have not been fashioned into a story we tell about ourselves, and because we are human, and because change is life, that story will evolve and change as we do.There is no better sign that our interpretation of history is in for revision than the Hollywood treatment. Last week it was reported that Steven Spielberg, our foremost chronicler of heroic World War II tales, plans to collaborate with Maddow to make Ultra into a movie. Perhaps this marks the beginning of a pop culture reconsideration of America’s role in the war, adding nuance that perturbs the accepted heroic narrative.And so I am not so worried about Jan. 6 fading from our consciousness for now. One day, maybe decades, maybe a century, some future Rachel Maddow will pick up the story and weave it more fully into the American fabric, not as an aberration but a continuous thread that runs through our imperfect tapestry. Maybe some future Steven Spielberg will even make it into a movie. I bet it’ll be a blockbuster.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More