A year ago, on the afternoon of September 10, 2025, I was 20 feet away when my friend Charlie Kirk was murdered, shot dead for holding a public debate on whatever topics the students of Utah Valley University wanted to talk about. I spent the rest of the day in the waiting room of Timpanogos Hospital, first hoping for a miracle and then coming to grips with the miracle that did not come. I had little to do except reply to the dozens of messages pouring in, asking how I was holding up.
Over and over, I shared how I honestly felt: I was heartbroken, but beyond that, I felt ill, sick to my stomach not just over the friend I had lost in the most horrible way imaginable, but over what it meant for the country Charlie loved so dearly.
America’s freedom of speech is nigh-absolute. It was a right Charlie cherished and endlessly exercised
My body’s instinct didn’t err. One year after Charlie’s murder, it is clearer than ever that his death was calamitous not merely for his particular political or religious faction, but for the nation.
By the time of his death, Charlie was more than a mere political actor. He was the most articulate voice selling America’s youth on an entire alternative way of life. He told young men to get fit, go to church, get a serious job, and marry their girlfriends. He told women to prioritize marriage and family ahead of their careers. He told everyone to shun the temptations not only of drugs and sex but also screens, sloth and nihilism. He preached a vigorous, explicitly Christian gospel without the tinge of either hypocrisy or fanaticism that lays so many other preachers low.
