The Charlie I Knew

On Charlie’s desk, there was a framed box of text that contained three simple questions: What can I do to help someone today?

What can I do to add value in the world today?

How can I honor God today?

Three simple questions—and yet, by asking these questions of himself every day, and doing his utmost every day to achieve the answers, Charlie Kirk changed the world.

Everything Charlie did was part of his higher purpose. Each moment was a chance to learn, a chance to build, a chance to bond, or a chance to rest for the next flurry of activity. People are shocked to hear that Charlie made sure to get eight hours of sleep per night. How could he possibly have the time? But it’s true, and it happened because Charlie squandered none of his waking moments. Charlie wasn’t the hardest worker ever—there are people who spent more hours in the office or on the road. But he was the most mission-driven person I’ve ever encountered. It’s not that he worked he most, but that he wasted the least.

For Charlie, life was something to be lived. Every day was a 16-hour window to be attacked with all of his energy—and that energy was tremendous. Found an organization; build a grassroots movement; win an election; start a religious revival; change the course of history—Charlie believed that one highly determined person could do all of that, and then he went and did exactly that. People doubted him, over and over, and he proved all of them wrong.

Charlie loved looking for little ways to maximize his health and, by extension, his effectiveness. He wore lengthy socks to improve his circulation. He dabbled with oxygen chambers to accelerate healing. He ate a comically restrictive diet that consisted almost solely of chicken, salmon, avocado, and olive oil—then became an aficionado of seasonings and hot sauces to supply variety. For Charlie, the body was a temple and making it as strong as possible was his way of showing total commitment to the mission God had sent him on.

Yet, at the same time, Charlie was not a workaholic or a robot executing a script. For all the energy he threw into changing America, Charlie also knew that family and relationships were central to life. His Saturday Shabbat tradition was dedicated entirely to his wife and children, and despite traveling more than anyone you’ve met, he somehow made it home to be with them nearly every evening. Even as he traveled across America to speak on campuses or pitch donors, he carved out the time to visit sick friends in the hospital or support those close to him who were struggling.

Charlie loved sports. Even while running a marathon event like our AmericaFest convention, he would keep a TV backstage so he could monitor the latest Oregon game or the NFL playoffs. During the World Cup, he would have a tablet showing Team USA’s game so he could glance at it even as he was broadcasting The Charlie Kirk Show live. He once told me that if he ever became president and had to endure an hour-long photo line, he would simply ask for a giant TV in the back so he could watch college football while doing it.

I think Charlie saw sports as a miniature version of what he valued in life. In sports, talent matters, but relentless preparation, discipline, and hard work are what set the all-time greats apart from the rest. A great athlete does his absolute best every game, putting it all on the field and leaving the rest to God—and that is how Charlie lived his life. He left every part of himself out there in the arena, and that is where he died, facing forward, still honoring God, still pursuing the mission.

When I started working for Charlie, his first assignment was to watch every single episode of Dennis Prager’s Fireside Chat podcast—even six years ago, that was about a hundred episodes and more than50 hours of content.

It was pure Charlie. He wanted me to listen because he’d done the same, found it immensely valuable, and wanted to share the wealth.

Also, when I first joined Charlie, he asked how many different states I’d been to. He was shocked at my low number (California is big!) and immediately said, “I am going to change that.” Working for him, I got my number up to 48. This fall, we were going to hit the final two.

I will miss him, and I will never forget him.