KFF Health News and KCUR are following the stories of people injured during the Feb. 14 mass shooting at the Kansas City Chiefs Super Bowl celebration. Listen to how survivors are seeking a sense of safety.<\/p>\n
KANSAS CITY, Mo. \u2014 Twenty-four minutes before the mass shooting at the Kansas City Chiefs Super Bowl victory parade in February left one person dead and at least 24 people injured, Jenipher Cabrera felt a bullet pierce the back of her right thigh.<\/p>\n
The 20-year-old and her family were just four blocks from Union Station, in a river of red-shirted Chiefs fans walking toward the massive rally after the parade that warm Valentine\u2019s Day. The bullet \u2014 fired by teen boys fighting in the street \u2014 thrust Cabrera forward.<\/p>\n
She grabbed her mom by the shoulder and signaled in panic to her bleeding leg with her large brown eyes, not saying a word. Cabrera was being treated in an ambulance when she heard reports blasting from the police radio.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mom was trying to get on the ambulance,\u201d Cabrera said. \u201cI remember them saying, like, \u2018You can\u2019t get on. There might be other victims that we need to pick up.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
Cabrera\u2019s shooting happened before the one that garnered the big headlines that day and is one of hundreds that kill or injure Kansas City-area residents each year. That endless drumbeat of gun violence \u2014 from one-off incidents to mass shootings \u2014 has shattered the sense of safety for those who survive. As victims and their families try to move forward, reminders of gun violence are inescapable in the media, in their communities, in their daily lives.<\/p>\n
\u201cI look at people differently,\u201d said James Lemons, who was shot in the thigh at the rally. Now when he\u2019s around strangers he can\u2019t help but wonder if they have a gun and if his kids are safe.<\/p>\n
The new NFL season opened here with a moment of silence<\/a> for Lisa Lopez-Galvan, the only person killed at the parade. Kansas City has recorded at least 124 homicides<\/a> this year. Local police say there have been an additional 476 \u201cbullet-to-skin victims\u201d \u2014 people who were shot and survived. And there were at least 50 school shootings<\/a> nationwide by mid-September.<\/p>\n Collectively it is all taking a toll.<\/p>\n Survivors suffer panic attacks and feel a heightened sense of danger in crowds and deep anxieties about the threat of violence anywhere in Kansas City.<\/p>\n Every shooting survivor responds in their own way to gun violence and even the threat of it, according to LJ Punch, a trauma surgeon by training and founder of the Bullet Related Injury Clinic in St. Louis.<\/p>\n For some, getting shot ensures they will always be on guard, perhaps even armed. Others want nothing to do with guns ever again.<\/p>\n \u201cBut what\u2019s the common ground? That people desperately want to be safe,\u201d Punch said.<\/p>\n Cabrera\u2019s search to make meaning out of what happened has led her to work with a frustrated local lawmaker seeking new gun laws \u2014 something akin to impossible given Missouri state law, which prohibits nearly any local restrictions<\/a> on firearms.<\/p>\n Learning of Other Shootings on the Phone<\/strong><\/p>\n Feb. 14 is a movie in Cabrera\u2019s mind, in slow motion, frame by frame, and the soundtrack is her voice, talking and talking. She sees a group of rowdy teenage boys running around her and her family. Then two pops \u2014 fireworks? Another pop. Finally, a fourth.<\/p>\n \u201cI think that\u2019s where the shock kicked in, and I grabbed my mom,\u201d Cabrera remembered. \u201cI didn\u2019t say anything to her. I just, like, looked at her, and I had, like, my eyes were widened, and I kind of signaled with my eyes to look down at my leg.\u201d<\/p>\n Cabrera fell and other fans rushed to her rescue, calling 911, and began cutting off her leggings. Four men instantly pulled off their belts when asked for a tourniquet. She remembers thinking that if she lost consciousness, she could die. So she talked and talked. Or so she thought.<\/p>\n One of her rescuers later said she actually didn\u2019t say a word even when he asked how many fingers he was holding up.<\/p>\n \u201cHe told me [that] my eyes were huge, like oranges, and that all I was basically doing was, like, looking up and down four times since he had four fingers up,\u201d Cabrera said.<\/p>\n Cabrera remembers being moved out of the emergency room at University Health to make room for 12 people who came in<\/a> from the shooting at the rally, including eight with gunshot wounds. She checked social media on her phone \u2014 another shooting? Unreal. Finally her parents found her. She spent seven days in the hospital.<\/p>\n Cabrera is grateful to be alive. But she is triggered now when she sees groups of teenage boys cursing and playing, or when she sees red Chiefs shirts. Hearing four pops in a row \u2014 a regular occurrence in her northeast Kansas City neighborhood \u2014 makes Cabrera\u2019s chest swell and she braces for a panic attack.<\/p>\n \u201cIt runs over and over and over and over in my mind,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n \u2018An Increasing Sense of Threat?\u2019<\/strong><\/p>\n The U.S. surgeon general declared gun violence a public health crisis<\/a> in June, but nearly any new regulation on guns is a political nonstarter in Missouri. In fact, a 2021 state law \u2014 signed at the Kansas City-area gun store<\/a> where one of the weapons used in the parade shooting was purchased \u2014 would have barred local police from enforcing federal gun laws. The law was struck down<\/a> by a federal appeals court in August.<\/p>\n Missouri has no age restrictions on gun use and possession, although federal law largely prohibits juveniles from carrying handguns.<\/p>\n Polling of Missouri voters shows support<\/a> for requiring background checks and instituting age restrictions for gun purchases, but also nearly half were opposed to allowing<\/a> counties and cities to pass their own gun rules.<\/p>\n Per capita, Kansas City, Missouri, is among the more violent places in the nation. From 2014 to 2023, there were at least 2,175 shootings<\/a> in this city of 510,000, leaving 1,275 people dead and 1,624 injured. And while murder rates fell<\/a> in more than 100 cities across the country last year, Kansas City recorded its deadliest year on record<\/a>.<\/p>\n Shared with permission from The Trace.<\/a><\/p>\n Punch, of the Bullet Related Injury Clinic, likened the violence to a disease outbreak that goes unaddressed and spreads. The state\u2019s permissive posture toward guns might supercharge the reality in Kansas City, Punch said, but it didn\u2019t start it.<\/p>\n \u201cSo is there something going on? Is there an increasing sense of threat?\u201d Punch asked.<\/p>\n Jason Barton was familiar with that violence growing up in Kansas City. Now settled in Osawatomie, Kansas, he thought long and hard about bringing his own gun for protection when he drove his family to the Super Bowl parade.<\/p>\n Ultimately he decided against it, surmising that if something happened and he pulled out a gun, he would be arrested or shot.<\/p>\n Barton responded quickly to the shooting, which happened right in front of him<\/a> and his family. His wife found a bullet in her backpack. His stepdaughter\u2019s legs were burned<\/a> by sparks from a bullet ricochet.<\/p>\n Despite his worst fears coming true, Barton said not bringing his gun that day was the right decision.<\/p>\n \u201cGuns don\u2019t need to be brought into places like that,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u2018A 12-Gauge With Teeth\u2019<\/strong><\/p>\n Mass shootings can derail survivors\u2019 sense of safety, according to Heather Martin, a survivor of the Columbine High School shooting in 1999 and co-founder of The Rebels Project<\/a>, which provides peer support to survivors of mass trauma.<\/p>\n \u201cTrying to find a way to feel safe again is very common,\u201d Martin said, \u201cin the years following it.\u201d<\/p>\n James Lemons had always felt trepidation about returning to Kansas City, where he grew up. He even brought his gun with him to the parade but left it in the car at the urging of his wife. His 5-year-old daughter was on his shoulders when a bullet entered the back of his thigh. He shielded her from the ground as he fell. What was he realistically going to do with a gun?<\/p>\n And yet he can\u2019t help but wonder \u201cwhat if.\u201d He can\u2019t shake the feeling that he failed to protect his family. Waking up from dreams about the parade, \u201cI just start crying,\u201d he said. He knows he hasn\u2019t processed it yet but he doesn\u2019t know how to start. He has focused on his family\u2019s safety.<\/p>\n They got two American bulldogs this summer, making three total in the house now \u2014 one for each kid. Lemons described them as \u201clike having a gun without having a gun.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve got a 12-gauge with teeth,\u201d Lemons joked, \u201cjust a big, softy protector.\u201d<\/p>\n Most nights he sleeps only a few hours at a time before waking up to check on the kids. Usually he\u2019s on the couch. It\u2019s more comfortable for his leg that is still healing, and it helps him avoid the restless kicks of his 5-year-old, who has slept with her parents since the parade.<\/p>\n It also ensures he\u2019ll be the one to intercept an intruder who breaks into the house.<\/p>\n Emily Tavis, who was shot through the leg, found solace at her church and from a sister congregation\u2019s in-house therapist.<\/p>\n But then, the Sunday morning after the Donald Trump rally shooting in July, the preacher\u2019s sermon turned to gun violence \u2014 triggering panic inside her.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd it just, like, overwhelmed me so much, where I just went to the bathroom,\u201d Tavis said, \u201cand I just stayed in the bathroom for the rest of the sermon.\u201d Now even attending church gives her pause.<\/p>\n Tavis recently moved into a new house in Leavenworth, Kansas, that she is renting from a friend. The friend\u2019s husband cautioned that if Tavis was going to be alone she needed a gun for protection. She told him she just can\u2019t deal with guns right now.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd he\u2019s like, \u2018OK, well, take this.\u2019 And he pulls out this giant machete,\u201d Tavis recalled, laughing.<\/p>\n \u201cSo I have a machete now.\u201d<\/p>\n A Search for Something Good<\/strong><\/p>\n Cabrera, the young woman who couldn\u2019t speak after being shot, is now trying to use her voice in the fight against gun violence.<\/p>\n Manny Abarca, a Jackson County, Missouri, legislator, lives down the street. One evening, he came to visit. Cabrera\u2019s parents did most of the talking; she\u2019s shy by nature. But then he turned and asked her directly: What did she want?<\/p>\n \u201cI just want, like, some justice for my case,\u201d she said, \u201cor something good to happen.\u201d<\/p>\n Before the parade, Cabrera was offered a factory job where her sister worked, but she hadn\u2019t started because her leg was still healing. So Abarca offered her an internship, helping him establish a Jackson County Office of Gun Violence Prevention, a plan he introduced in July in response to the parade shootings.<\/p>\n Abarca was in the Chiefs victory parade with his 5-year-old daughter, Camila. They were in Union Station when shots were fired \u2014 and they huddled in a downstairs bathroom.<\/p>\n \u201cI just said, \u2018Hey, you know, just be calm. Just be quiet. Let\u2019s just find out what\u2019s going on. Something\u2019s happened,\u2019\u201d Abarca said. \u201cAnd then she said, \u2018This is a drill.\u2019 And hey, it tore everything out of me, because I was like, she\u2019s referring to her training\u201d at school.<\/p>\n They emerged shaken but safe, only to learn that Lopez-Galvan had died. Abarca knew the 43-year-old mother and popular Tejano DJ through the area\u2019s tight-knit Hispanic community.<\/p>\n Abarca has taken advantage of this heated time after the Super Bowl parade shootings to work on anti-violence measures, despite knowing the severe limitations posed by state law.<\/p>\n In June, the Jackson County Legislature passed a measure that gives local teeth to a federal domestic violence law that allows judges to remove firearms from offenders.<\/p>\n But Abarca hasn\u2019t been able to get the gun violence office approved, and county officials have refused to take up another measure that would establish age limits for purchasing or possessing firearms, fearing a lawsuit from a combative state attorney general. He hired Cabrera, he said, because she is bilingual and he wants her help as a survivor.<\/p>\n In a sense, the work makes Cabrera feel stronger in her fight to move forward from the shooting. Still, her family\u2019s perception of safety has been shattered, and no one will be attending games or a possible Super Bowl victory parade anytime soon.<\/p>\n \u201cWe just never expected something like that to happen,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd so I think we\u2019re gonna be more cautious now and maybe just watch it through TV.\u201d<\/p>\n KFF Health News<\/a> is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF\u2014an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about KFF<\/a>.<\/p>\nUSE OUR CONTENT<\/h3>\n