What the hell do we do now? Where do we go from here? What happens next? Who is supposed to pick up the microphone?
No one will ever be able to fill Charlie’s shoes. No one.
But I can’t think of anything that would fill his heart and make him prouder than the generation he inspired to pick up the torch and carry it forward. To continue this mission he gave his life for to speak the truth and to fight against evil, to fill the hearts of the world with courage and the love of God.
This is the Turning Point of our time. I don’t even know if Charlie intended for that name to pack such a punch, and maybe it seems even more important now, but amid the expected and disgusting hate comments in the wake of Charlie’s death, I am floored and inspired all over again by the thousands of posts I’ve seen from our generation saying that this is their personal awakening to get in the arena, to be on the frontlines of this culture war, and to speak out in courage no matter what the backlash that comes next might look like.
And I guess that’s the answer. Who picks up the microphone from here? Who keeps speaking the truth when the world needs it the most? Who keeps pushing back against evil?
YOU. You do. We do.
Charlie always believed this - that anyone from anywhere can inspire the world if they just have the courage to do it.
I have to believe that Charlie lit the spark that will spark a wildfire in this movement.
A movement not just to fix our political system or revive the American Dream, but so much bigger. To change culture. To seek and speak truth. To love God authentically and share that love with the world. To transform humanity as Salt and Light through every action we take.
For you, Charlie.
@charliekirk11@TPUSA@tpusastudents
We will never stop debating and discussing.
We will never stop standing up for what America is and what she should be.
And we will never let Charlie’s voice die.
To those who would stop us, I have two words: FUCK YOU.
A while ago, probably in 2017, I appeared on Tucker Carlson's Fox show to talk about God knows what. Afterwards a name I barely knew sent me a DM on twitter and told me I did a great job. It was Charlie Kirk, and that moment of kindness began a friendship that lasted until today.
Charlie was fascinated by ideas and always willing to learn and change his mind. Like me, he was skeptical of Donald Trump in 2016. Like me, he came to see President Trump as the only figure capable of moving American politics away from the globalism that had dominated for our entire lives. When others were right, he learned from them. When he was right--as he usually was--he was generous. With Charlie, the attitude was never, "I told you so." But: "welcome."
Charlie was one of the first people I called when I thought about running for senate in early 2021. I was interested but skeptical there was a pathway. We talked through everything, from the strategy to the fundraising to the grassroots of the movement he knew so well. He introduced me to some of the people who would run my campaign and also to Donald Trump Jr. "Like his dad, he's misunderstood. He's extremely smart, and very much on our wavelength." Don took a call from me because Charlie asked him too.
Long before I ever committed (even in my mind) to running, Charlie had me speak to his donors at a TPUSA event. He walked me around the room and introduced me. He gave me honest feedback on my remarks. He had no reason to do this, no expectation that I'd go anywhere. I was polling, at that point, well below 5 percent. He did it because we were friends, and because he was a good man.
When I became the VP nominee--something Charlie advocated for both in public and private--Charlie was there for me. I was so glad to be part of the president's team, but candidly surprised by the effect it had on our family. Our kids, especially our oldest, struggled with the attention and the constant presence of the protective detail. I felt this acute sense of guilt, that I had conscripted my kids into this life without getting their permission. And Charlie was constantly calling and texting, checking on our family and offering guidance and prayers. Some of our most successful events were organized not by the campaign, but by TPUSA. He wasn't just a thinker, he was a doer, turning big ideas into bigger events with thousands of activists. And after every event, he would give me a big hug, tell me he was praying for me, and ask me what he could do. "You focus on Wisconsin," he'd tell me. "Arizona is in the bag." And it was.
Charlie genuinely believed in and loved Jesus Christ. He had a profound faith. We used to argue about Catholicism and Protestantism and who was right about minor doctrinal questions. Because he loved God, he wanted to understand him.
Someone else pointed out that Charlie died doing what he loved: discussing ideas. He would go into these hostile crowds and answer their questions. If it was a friendly crowd, and a progressive asked a question to jeers from the audience, he'd encourage his fans to calm down and let everyone speak. He exemplified a foundational virtue of our Republic: the willingness to speak openly and debate ideas.
Charlie had an uncanny ability to know when to push the envelope and when to be more conventional. I've seen people attack him for years for being wrong on this or that issue publicly, never realizing that privately he was working to broaden the scope of acceptable debate.
He was a great family man. I was talking to President Trump in the Oval Office today, and he said, "I know he was a very good friend of yours." I nodded silently, and President Trump observed that Charlie really loved his family. The president was right. Charlie was so proud of Erika and the two kids. He was so happy to be a father. And he felt such gratitude for having found a woman of God with whom he could build a family.
Charlie Kirk was a true friend. The kind of guy you could say something to and know it would always stay with him. I am on more than a few group chats with Charlie and people he introduced me to over the years. We celebrate weddings and babies, bust each other's chops, and mourn the loss of loved ones. We talk about politics and policy and sports and life. These group chats include people at the very highest level of our government. They trusted him, loved him, and knew he'd always have their backs. And because he was a true friend ,you could instinctively trust the people Charlie introduced you to. So much of the success we've had in this administration traces directly to Charlie's ability to organize and convene. He didn't just help us win in 2024, he helped us staff the entire government.
I was in a meeting in the West Wing when those group chats started lighting up with people telling Charlie they were praying for him. And that's how I learned the news that my friend had been shot. I prayed a lot over the next hour, as first good news and then bad trickled in.
God didn't answer those prayers, and that's OK. He had other plans. And now that Charlie is in heaven, I'll ask him to talk to big man directly on behalf of his family, his friends, and the country he loved so dearly.
You ran a good race, my friend.
We've got it from here.
Like all of you, I am utterly stunned and heartbroken and sick to my soul today. It is unimaginable to write these words. I met Charlie Kirk when he was 18 years old, a young man so eager and determined that I immediately turned to a friend and said, “That kid is going to be the head of the RNC one day.” Charlie became even bigger and more important than that. It was a privilege to watch this principled man stand up for his beliefs and create the single most important conservative political organization in America. But more importantly, Charlie was a good man, a man who believed in right and wrong, who stood by his Biblical values. All of us will miss him, and I can’t imagine the pain of his beautiful young family, and we must all pray for them. And we must pick up the baton where Charlie left it, fighting for the things he believed in so passionately. And we must fight for a better America - an America where good people can speak truth and debate passionately without fear of a bullet. I weep for Charlie’s family, and I weep for my country today. Most of all, I weep for Charlie.
Pennsylvanians have spoken, and they want to see us legalize recreational marijuana.
I’m for it — I just want to be sure we also include measures to restore justice to those who have been harmed by the war on drugs.
Legislators, let’s get this done for PA.