Why Charlie Kirk’s assassination will change us in ways this generation has never seen

Reactions flooded in long into Wednesday night, following the public assassination of Charlie Kirk. Some were angry; others wept; some were numb; others, cautious; and still others openly celebrated. Few, however, grasped the scale of the personal intensity Americans felt.

We live in an age of instant information and cheap virality, and we have to struggle with the contradictory feelings of social isolation and personal connectivity the handheld-screen age brings. This is that age’s first truly awful monocultural moment. It’s going to take time to truly know what this cruel murder means for these United States, but you can be sure it’s much bigger than we think.

A lot of people who didn’t know Charlie felt like they did. And they see a mentor or a friend, a younger or older brother, a son, a father, a husband.

We’ve experienced awful viral moments before. Just earlier this week, we were gripped by video of a beautiful Ukrainian woman stabbed to death on public transit. Only last year, the attempted assassination of President Donald Trump and the murder of a father and husband in front of his family echoed from country music to hip-hop and from Capitol Hill politics to boardwalk T-shirts.

Although we heard of Corey Comperatore’s sacrifice and prayed for him and his family, most of us didn’t know him. The footage from that July afternoon showed a president unbowed and unbroken, triumphant and defiant, pumping his fist above his head and rallying his supporters. We were shocked at how close we had come to a world-changing event — how a breeze, a projector screen, and the Holy Spirit had saved this country from open violence.

This time is different. There’s no embattled but victorious defiance. There’s a quiet, sinking feeling. It was hard to go to sleep last night knowing that Charlie's widow put her toddler and baby to bed in a world where Daddy isn’t coming home. In the morning, nothing had changed that. Capitol Hill was quiet, and St. Peter's lonely bells marked the moment the Pentagon had been hit. They could have tolled for a country once more on the brink, 24 years on.

There’s another difference between Utah and Butler. It’s a sad thing to admit, but the American people know presidential assassinations. We know assassinations of politicians, too. If you lived a full life in these United States, born any time in the past 200 years, you’ve seen a president shot or even killed. We don’t like it, but we understand that our presidents have stepped into the arena. Even awful attacks on representatives, senators, governors, and mayors seem to somehow fit into our violent American experience.

Charlie doesn’t fit. He was young — far too young. He held conventions and he had a podcast, and he went to college campuses to set up a tent to debate other viewpoints and see if he could convince or be convinced himself. He didn’t insult people or try to make them look stupid for clicks and laughs. If he was “controversial” and “divisive,” it was because some people disagreed with his beliefs — beliefs shared by millions of normal Americans.

We knew he could change his mind in a debate, because we saw it happen after he debated Tucker Carlson on the government’s role in its citizens’ lives. When I first met him, he was probably 25 and not yet married. I was shocked by his kind humility and his hunger to learn from people around him. He wasn’t brash or conceited in the way most people are when they achieve the success he had by that age. And he was very hardworking.

I didn't see a dry eye on BlazeTV or Fox News Wednesday night, because all of us had the opportunity to meet this man, either as a friend or just a friendly acquaintance, or a student, or a guest, or a host. We all knew him, but the very personal feelings of loss extended far outside those of us who shared an industry with him.

Charlie’s qualities were on display to the millions of Americans who tuned in to his show, or who came out to his events on campus, or who were first introduced to these ideas by his work. Remember: Before the shot rang out, you’d probably have had to be a Utah reporter or Utah Valley University student or local to know Charlie was even there, and yet thousands of young people had turned out to see him.

When are some other times you saw thousands of young people turn out for a speaker? Especially one who isn’t a politician. It’s not very common, and for a peaceful while, it wasn’t even news — just another leg on the tour. How many times had Charlie done this: shaken hands, taken pictures, or just responded to tweets and comments from young fans? Far beyond the people who were his friends or who knew him are the millions who felt like they knew him.

Sure, our technological age can isolate us, but it can also bring people we’ve never met into our lives. It can create the feeling of knowing someone, especially when you tune in every week — or every day. A lot of people who didn’t know Charlie felt like they did. And they see a mentor or a friend, a younger or older brother, a son, a father, a husband.

And what was he doing when he was gunned down? He wasn’t egging on a crowd, jeering at protesters, sneering that elections have consequences, or blaring into a megaphone. He was seated under a tent on a sunny day with an open mic, engaged in open dialogue on an American college campus. There’s no good reason on God’s green earth he should not have been allowed to call his wife that evening or see his young children again.

This isn’t taxes or health care or energy policy. This isn't even the shooting of a famous politician or the murder of a beautiful stranger, as horrible and jarring as those things are. This hits deeper.

When people celebrated his assassination, they weren’t talking about someone who wielded power — they were talking about someone who believed a lot of things we believe, who had a young, happy family, and who was engaged in fair discourse on a peaceful campus.

On her show last night, host Emily Jashinsky wondered if the name he chose for his organization those 13 years ago was prophetic. I can’t say. I know he knew what we were up against, though. I know he’ll be remembered for a long time, and I know his absence will be felt terribly by his wife and his children, his friends and his colleagues, and by millions beyond them. And I do know this is a moment that will be remembered for many, many years.

Our chances aren’t great. It doesn’t have to get worse. That’s not yet written. But that means things are going to have to get a lot better — and fast. This is it. This is our turning point. Which way, America?

“After Party with Emily Jashinsky”: Honoring the legacy of Charlie Kirk, with Chris and Sarah Bedford

Blaze News: Charlie Kirk: Loving father, fearless communicator, happy warrior — 1993-2025

The Spectator: Charlie Kirk saw himself as holding back a revolution

Blaze News: Greg Gutfeld fires off emotional message after assassination of Charlie Kirk

Blaze News: New York Times continues SPLC demonization of Charlie Kirk, accuses him of provocation

Blaze News: MSNBC analyst Matthew Dowd fired over Charlie Kirk comments

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