Not since 1981 has a president or presidential candidate faced a gunshot — and Saturday’s attempted assassination of former President Donald Trump was the first such event etched in my own memory, not just history.

This was the culmination of years of intense rhetoric. The cover of the June edition of The New Republic, for example, depicted Trump as Hitler, entitled “American Fascism: What It Would Look Like.”

President Joe Biden’s call to “lower temperature in our politics” contrasts sharply with his own statements.

At a July 8 fundraiser, Biden remarked, “It’s time to put Trump in a bullseye.” He’s repeatedly labeled Trump the “greatest threat to our democracy” and a would-be “dictator.” He’s declared “Trump and MAGA Republicans” threaten “the very soul of this country.”

Corey Comperatore, the firefighter who sacrificed himself to protect his wife and daughter, was a “MAGA Republican.”

Let’s be honest: After years of such language, including overt references to killing Trump in plays and Hollywood chatter, is anyone really surprised it came to this?

Democratic state Rep. Steven Woodrow initially condemned the act at 4:36 p.m. Saturday, tweeting, “Whoever did this must be brought to justice. Wholly unacceptable and will only embolden violence.” Yet, within minutes, Woodrow succumbed to his impulses: “The last thing America needed was sympathy for the devil but here we are.”

After widespread criticism, Woodrow simply deleted his X account.

“This statement is not only inappropriate and uncalled for but it is cruel,” said Mike DiManna, Woodrow’s Republican opponent. “People died this evening. Is this really the attitude we want from our Colorado HD2 Representative?”

This is far from Woodrow’s first time deploying provocative rhetoric. In 2023, he tweeted: “Nazis vote Republican. Because they share many of the same values. Get over it.”

Woodrow’s 2020 campaign manager, Hashim Coates, enthusiastically endorsed the 2023 post, tweeting Saturday, “Well it’s true! Why should people have an issue with that? Prove that they don’t!”

Coates recently lost his own primary for Arapahoe County Commissioner by 2-1 against state Sen. Rhonda Fields.

Amid a 2021 Denver Public Schools investigation that uncovered predatory behavior by then-school board member Auon’tai Anderson — whose campaign Coates ran — Coates publicly intimidated and threatened an 18-year-old Anderson critic, calling her a “lying lil-aracist” and likening her to the Columbine High School killers.

Lately, Tay Anderson has stoked unrest in Aurora over the tragic death of Kilyn Lewis, an unarmed Black man shot by a police officer in May.

“Just remember 2020. We took your lawns over,” Anderson warned the Aurora City Council last month — calling to mind when protesters barricaded an Aurora police precinct, trapping officers inside. “This is your warning. You can fire the officer that murdered Kilyn Lewis. You can hold him accountable. Or we will be back.”

Last week, Tay Anderson and his supporters disrupted a townhall held by Councilwoman Stephanie Hancock, a Black woman.

Wielding his infamous bullhorn, Anderson declared, “We’re happy to raise our hands and ask questions, but we need a commitment that you’re gonna listen. You have three seconds to decide.” Then, they shut it down.

“I was very disappointed with the disruption of my townhall,” Hancock told me. “I was most concerned for senior citizens and others who attended to get valuable information. These folks had no idea that we were going to be hijacked by protesters. I was concerned for their safety, and some expressed they were terrified.”

Protesters disrupted three consecutive council meetings and caused another townhall to be cancelled.

Let’s be real: Hijacking public meetings with threats, intimidation and vitriol is shameful and condemnable.

The day he was shot, Lewis faced attempted murder charges for allegedly shooting a 63-year-old legally blind man. He refused SWAT officers’ commands — moving toward his car, reaching for his car door and putting his right hand behind his back. Veteran officer Michael Dieck fired one shot after Lewis revealed an unknown object in his hand. (It was his phone.)

Lewis had a prior criminal record, including lengthy sentences for aggravated robbery, child abuse and burglary. While a rap-sheet doesn’t justify any officer-involved shooting, a suspect’s history is relevant to understanding officers’ actions — especially facing deadly charges and ignoring commands.

At last week’s Aurora council meeting, socialist Alison Coombs proposed a resolution apologizing for Lewis’s death. Knowing it wouldn’t pass amid an ongoing investigation, she advanced it anyway — stoking flames much like her previous push for a pro-Hamas resolution.

“It would be nice if we ‘lowered the temperature’ of our political rhetoric,” Abe Greenwald, editor of “Commentary” magazine, noted. “But what we now call political rhetoric is nothing but apocalyptic partisan attack. Without it, most Americans wouldn’t know what to say about politics.”

Politics is consumed by exaggeration and vilification. From setting cities ablaze during the “mostly-peaceful” 2020 riots to storming the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, high temperatures fuel chaos and sow division.

The attempt on President Trump’s life epitomizes the politics of demonization — a consequence of outrageous Hitlerian parallels and incessant cries of “democracy’s end.”

“There are forces on the left and the right that use hyperbole, innuendo, fear and outright lies to cause incendiary reactions from people,” said Hancock. “Their intention is to dismantle, disrupt and destroy, and they have no problem using any situation to do so — even to attempt to assassinate a presidential candidate. We are living in dangerous times.”

In a world rocked by reckless rhetoric, words have the power to enflame and sooth divisions. Choose wisely.

Jimmy Sengenberger is an investigative journalist, public speaker, and longtime local talk-radio host. Reach Jimmy online at Jimmysengenberger.com or on X (formerly Twitter) @SengCenter.