I hope this finds you well, in a reflective mood, scrolling on social media, and pausing on something that doesn’t just confirm what you already think. We haven’t talked since the presidential election, and I’m not writing to rekindle our connections or have the same old debates, especially now.
But your posts about Charlie Kirk’s murder hit me hard, not because they were malicious but because they felt built from using liberal echo chambers painting him as a careless and callous villain playing some sort of part without digging deeper. In the reflective two weeks since his death, sadness lingers more than usual – not just for him but for what we’re missing in each other.
Charlie’s takes on guns, culture wars, and everything in between can make your blood boil. I get that. You really believe he was a fascist enabler or worse. Similar beliefs have echoed all the way from MSNBC down to Reddit threads with millions of eyes looking on. In my opinion, though, all evidence shows Charlie was a deeply religious man. His beliefs were centered in his faith. His voice on issues was clear and unapologetic.
That was his surface.
But the man I followed and listened to closely over many years wasn’t just a podcast or a meme; he was a 31-year-old from the Chicago suburbs who dropped out of college to build Turning Point USA, empowering thousands of young conservatives on campuses across the country where they often feel like outsiders. He organized voter drives, debate clubs, and tours like the “American Comeback” one that brough him to Orem, Utah, to talk face-to-face with students about free speech, opportunity, and why America shouldn’t be split into coastal elites and flyover middle American states.
Some of you mentioned the irony of how he died – being a gun rights advocate and dying by gunshot in a video none of us asked to see. Cruel? Absolutely. But ironic in the way you meant? Only if you buy that caricature some desperately want us to see of a gun-worshipping zealot blind to the tragedy of others.
Charlie was a fierce Second Amendment supporter – that’s correct – arguing its worth outweighed the “cost of some gun deaths.” That line is easy to hate in your circles. But he wasn’t heartless. He deeply grieved gun violence and mass shootings, and he pushed for mental health reforms, calling out extremism on all sides.
Remember his discussions with Gavin Newsom and Bill Maher? Have you taken the time to really listen to his Q&As, listening to students of all backgrounds? Having respectful discussions with them? What Charlie had learned concerned him greatly. I came to appreciate that deeply. He believed, as I do, that no matter how much we disagree on things, we have to talk. We have to understand each other.
The “fascist” label some of you used stings, especially from those who might know real authoritarianism’s weight through history or your own heritage. Charlie didn’t support a country favoring one race or ethnic group, like some people do. Instead, he focused on free markets, legal immigrant success, and dialogue, keeping his vision broader. Some of his positions were fair to challenge. I don’t agree 100% with what any one person says. And that’s okay. Debating issues is a cornerstone of our democracy. Charlie’s podcasts with liberals and his charity drives showed a man who was bridging, not burning.
Charlie’s murder, believed to be by a 22-year-old who called him a “hate-spreader,” proves one point some of you made: violence begets violence. Both sides now blame rhetoric on the other side. We are not in a good place, and social media’s divisive algorithms make it so much worse.
But here’s my plea: pause. Look beyond the labels and please see the human Charlie was, flawed like all of us but passionately and tirelessly working to spark something bigger. By letting him get reduced to some sort of villain, a killer slipped through. I’m not asking you to agree or reconnect with me but just to reflect. We all must play our role in healing America by understanding before hating. The ripple that could come from this, one person at a time, might just stop the next loss.
Take care,
Ricky
P.S., This isn’t about old ties; it’s just a hope you’ll look closer. For others, it’s a call to do the same before the next tragedy.
The views expressed by contributors are their own and not the views of SuperTalk Mississippi Media.
