One year ago, our elected legislators — members of the House and Senate, the vice president — barricaded doors and hid under desks as they came within yards, within minutes, of bodily harm. We saw young and old huddled together in fear for their lives and those of their staff. The U.S. Capitol, emblem of democratic governance around the world, had been breached by a violent mob.

Outnumbered police battled for hours defending the lawmakers from insurrectionists, as officers were gassed and beaten with fire extinguishers and flagpoles carrying the American flag. By the next day, one officer was dead; over 100 officers were injured.

Four officers died by suicide in the following days.

Most people who were on Capitol Hill that day had no idea where the great emotions of the day would carry them, but there were some in Washington and elsewhere who had meticulously planned the invasion for weeks and months. The pang of disappointment that supporters of the president felt on Nov. 3, 2020 as they realized that voters had turned him out of office was not allowed to recede. Beginning as early as that night, The Big Lie, a campaign to stoke resentment, was put in motion.

At this writing, millions of dollars have been spent pursuing false claims of organized election fraud. None have been found. More than 60 court cases have gone down to defeat; lawyers bringing those cases have been reprimanded and ordered to take remedial classes in election law in addition to paying legal fees.

Many details of the Jan. 6, 2021 insurrection are still unclear — who funded the well-organized groups that made their way through the crowds with tactical gear and zip-ties; why were Capitol defenses so inadequate to the situation when it had been widely known that plans were underway to disrupt the electoral process; who spoke with President Trump as the hours passed on Jan. 6 and what was said in those phone calls.

Other details have been misreported — numerous requests throughout the day for backup to the overwhelmed D.C. police were omitted in the official Department of Defense account (later confirmed in an internal report). Early reports that rioters were unarmed were wrong: at least 85 people have been indicted on weapons charges, ranging from chemical sprays to axes to guns.

Late on Jan. 6, hours after rioters had stormed into the House chamber to threaten members of Congress, lawmakers stood amidst the wreckage to cast a pro forma vote confirming the results of the November election. Representative for New York’s 21st Congressional District, Elise Stefanik, fulfilled the goal of the rioters by voting not to certify the election.

On Jan. 13, 2021 the House of Representatives impeached former President Trump on a charge of “incitement of insurrection.” The former president was cleared of the charge in the Senate with most Republicans following the lead of Sen. Mitch McConnell, who voted to acquit days after having declared: “The mob was fed lies. They were provoked by the president and other powerful people.”

Congresswoman Stefanik voted against impeachment.

In the months since the insurrection, voting access has been restricted in several states; apolitical election workers have been driven from their jobs by threats to themselves and their families. Among Republicans running for office in 2022, including candidates for Secretary of State who would oversee elections in their states, adherence to The Big Lie is widespread. Trust in free and fair elections has been seriously damaged.

It is not a far leap to say that we stand at a precarious point in our country’s history. “This was, in effect, a dress rehearsal for something that could be happening in the near term in 2022, 2024,” Fiona Hill, former national security official, warned in October. If we allow political intimidation and violence to overshadow elections, if we give credence to those who downplay how close we came on Jan. 6 to an overthrow of the government, if we don’t take meaningful steps to bring the instigators behind the attack on the Capitol to justice — we risk a repeat that is no longer a “dress rehearsal.”

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Ellen Beberman lives in Vermontville.