A jolly good time turned to concern and prayers for all those affected because of a senseless act of violence. Two juveniles have been charged in connection with the shooting.
By DIANE GASPER-O’BRIEN
Special to Hays Post
It all started as a way to make some good memories with – and for – our 12-year-old grandson, Brody.
He is a huge Kansas City Chiefs football fan, so I decided to make the trek to St. Joseph, Mo., last summer for their preseason camp. It was a lot of fun and something he still talks about today.
So, as the Chiefs made their magical run through the NFL playoffs this winter, I started thinking this would be a great idea: if the Chiefs win the Super Bowl, I should take Brody to their celebration parade.
While that seemed like a long shot at the end of the regular season, once the postseason began, they just kept winning. And winning. And winning.
I had been running across several messages and posts lately about how children and grandchildren won’t remember you for the material things we give them but for the time we spend with them.
So as soon as Mecole Hardman caught that pass in the Super Bowl overtime, I started making plans to take Brody to the parade – a “from the start of their season to the finish” kind of thing.
I looked up the parade route and asked friends in the KC area where might be a good spot to go.
News stories about the million or so fans who would be on hand for the parade didn’t really scare me.
I’d never before been in a crowd of a million people – and probably never will be again. I was curious to see what that looked and felt like.
I had heard that the World War I Museum and Memorial area overlooking Union Station would be a great place to get a good view of the pep rally that would follow the parade.
Instructions online for those attending the parade gave out lists for being prepared.
Looking back, I can’t think of anything that could have prepared us for this day.
I came up with the idea for our son, Drew, to drive us as close as he could to Union Station, and we would call him later to pick us up.
Parking situation solved.
As we rode to downtown KC, Brody marveled at the mass of people on bridges and walkways and in streets along the way, heading toward their parade-watching spot.
Drew dropped us off just a few blocks from Union Station, and Brody and I were off for a day to remember.
A woman handing out special edition newspaper supplements looked like she might be an authority on where to go so I stopped and asked.
“The hill by the World War I Memorial,” she answered, pointing at the huge Liberty Memorial Tower.
I felt kind of smug. I had guessed right – or so I thought.
The hill is usually a beautiful green space leading up to the tower. On this day, I looked up, and all I could see was red.
“But it’s packed already. Good luck,” the woman added incredulously.
She obviously didn’t know me. Off we proceeded to climb the steep hill.
Oh, yeah, it was packed. But we zigged and zagged our way through bodies and blankets and lawn chairs and found what I thought was a good spot. We could see the stage perfectly.
Before long, Brody asked when we were going to the parade.
Well … I had thought this would be a great spot to hear the players and coaches talk after the parade.
“But I want to see the parade,” he said simply.
Well, this was his day, so off we went again. That’s when I saw firsthand what crowded and being shoulder to shoulder in a large crowd of people really means.
The area that I thought would be best to see the end of the parade was obviously already filled with a lot of red-clad folks who weren’t exactly planning to move anytime soon.
Somehow, and I do mean SOMEHOW, we just kept inching forward, saying “excuse me” and smiling at folks even if they weren’t sporting a happy face.
We had to concentrate on keeping on our feet amidst all the jostling of humanity.
People were going to great lengths to get up high enough to watch the festivities. There were youngsters on their dad’s shoulders and others in trees and even some on street light posts.
Before we knew it, we were only three rows from a short fence lining the end of the parade route. I absolutely couldn’t tell you how we ended up so close.
A very nice woman named Erin (who was actually smiling) asked if Brody had ever been to one of the Chiefs’ parades.
“Uh, no!”
“You’re young – you need to see this. You get on up to the front,” she said, basically wedging him into the second row.
Brody then reached into his bravery pouch and asked a woman with a camera and a cell phone in her hands and a scowl on her face if he could “squeeze” in beside her. She begrudgingly moved over a couple of inches, and that’s all he needed.
Just like that, Brody was in the front row taking videos and photos like a pro.
I got to chatting with Erin and a friend with her, and they could probably sense my amazement, particularly at the size of the crowd. They asked if we were from a small town.
I said, “Oh, no, Brody lives in Topeka, and I’m from a city of about 20,000.”
One of them gasped. The other laughed like I’d just told a really funny joke. (They both live in the Kansas City area.)
It didn’t matter; nothing seemed to matter on this day.
There was Brody, all 5 foot, 4 inches of him, standing at the front of the fence – along with people who had been trying to reserve spots since midnight. People actually laid on blankets on concrete so they could have a good view of this parade – wow!
We stood and watched as bus after bus passed us, carrying the team and other members of the Chiefs organization. And we had front-row spots.
There was no Taylor Swift appearance, and most of the players we didn’t recognize without their numbered jerseys – except, of course Patrick Mahomes and Travis Kelce.
But there was lots of cheering and clapping and music and all-around good feelings.
The crowd had fun guessing who those players might be, and several players got off the buses to high-five fans.
As the parade finally ended, I thanked Erin again for helping make a prime spot (and lasting memories) for a young fan.
I wanted to head toward the stage and listen to the rest of the pep rally, but the look on Brody’s face told me he felt otherwise.
“Please Néna, I am really hungry!” he said emphasizing the “please” and the name he calls his grandmothers.
Well, I guess we had seen the parade, and I could catch the players’ comments later on TV.
So we took off eastward instead, not knowing at the time that would be the best decision we made all day.
We were a few blocks away from the rally, sitting on a street corner and waiting for Drew to pick us up when we heard sirens and watched numerous emergency vehicles race by.
We had fun chatting about the day and what we liked best when a friend from back in Hays texted me and asked me where we were. She was watching the event on TV and saw policemen jumping barricades. She wondered what was happening and if we were safe.
As we would soon learn, there was a shooting at the end of the pep rally where shots rang out just outside Union Station. One woman died in the shooting, and 22 others were injured, many of them children attending the parade since school had been called off in KC for the day.
In an instant, things other than a parade really did matter.
A jolly good time turned to concern and prayers for all those affected because of a senseless act of violence. Two juveniles have been charged in connection with the shooting.
I’m not sure what Brody will remember from that day, but it’s a sure bet the shooting will be vivid in his mind.
News accounts on TV that we listened to later revealed the chaos surrounding the shooting area.
Brody talked about how he felt badly for the children who had to be terrified and shook his head at the thought that we could have been some of those fans rushing away from the area to safety.
I hope he also remembers the good times and spending a few hours of fun with Néna Diane.
Something I’ll always remember had nothing to do with the parade or the shooting.
It was the warm feeling I had when I asked Brody if he wanted a Super Bowl T-shirt as we approached one of the many stands selling Chiefs memorabilia. After all, his 13th birthday was just three days away.
He said “not right now – maybe a sweatshirt later.” Instead, he asked if he could get something for his 5-year-old brother.
I looked at those puppy-dog eyes and pulled some cash out of my pocket.
“How much are they?” I asked the salesman.
Twenty bucks for a doggy cap with a pump at the end of its long ears that make them flop up and down. That seemed a little steep, but how could I say “no” to that request.
Now, a few days later, I smile as I type that memory. It made me think of one of those inspirational messages I talked about at the opening of this story.
It went something like this – the most powerful and most meaningful lasting memories for a child is to tell them “I love you” and “I’m proud of you.”
Well, Brody, I am so darned proud of you, especially today on your 13th birthday!
I’m proud of you for caring, proud to be your grandmother.
Love, Néna Diane