A Goodbye to Charlie Kirk, who risked it all to be heard…

Dear Charlie,

“If you disagree, come to the front of the line.” Those words will forever echo when I think of you.

Just the other night, I sat at the dinner table with my stepmom talking about how much we loved you — a conversation that’s been routine in my home for at least seven years. Since my sophomore year of high school, I’ve spent countless hours watching you debate students on campuses, listening to your podcast, and stopping whatever I was doing whenever a new “Charlie debate” popped up on my feed.

You aimed to restore civility to a generation starved of it. You were brilliant, well-read, and a once-in-a-generation talent. But more than that, you were our generation’s political voice. No matter what I was going through, an episode of your podcast grounded me and reminded me of what truly matters: that truth matters.

You challenged us all to think and speak about things that society would rather we kept quiet about. You taught young conservatives like me that our voices count in a world constantly pressuring us to conform and stay silent. Whether people agreed with your politics or not, those who knew you personally spoke of your kindness, your generosity, and your unwavering belief in America. You carried that belief even knowing the risks.

If asked why you did it, I know your answer: because the next generation matters. Because the kind of country we leave for our children and grandchildren is decided by the stands we take now. That conviction carried you through exhausting travel, grueling debates, and long days away from your family.

I didn’t know you personally. Yet, like so many others, I felt as though I did. Less than 24 hours after talking about how much we admired you, I was walking out of work , i found myself sobbing in the street. My family asked if I was ok, but they already knew, as news of your assassination flooded the news.

It feels strange to say my life changed the moment you took your last breath — strange because I never met you, and yet true because you weren’t just a political figure to me. You weren’t just a friend of President Trump. You were my hero.

Charlie, you were like that one friend who knows everything about everything, but never in a way that made others feel small. That’s why your loss feels so personal to so many who never met you. You gave us advice, life lessons, and the push to look past division. You reminded us that America is worth fighting for — that it’s not a right but a privilege that must be defended for the next generation.

Unlike many, you were honest about the shortcomings of your own party. You called out the right as readily as you challenged the left. And you always came armed with facts, evidence, and, most importantly, an open mind. You taught us not to see those who disagreed as enemies, but as people with different ideas — ideas you debated with passion, but also with respect.

As an American Jew and a staunch Zionist, I will never forget your love for Israel and your steadfast friendship to the Jewish people. In times when being openly Jewish felt like the bravest act in the world, your voice gave me strength. You reminded me I wasn’t alone.

What stood out most, though, was your kindness and your courage. You showed us that standing relentlessly for what you believe in is nothing to apologize for. At the same time, you taught us compassion, urging us toward civil discourse. You warned us often that when people stop talking, things get very bad.

Charlie, it is truly difficult to do what you did. Most people dream of standing up and being heard, but they never risk it — because the risk is exactly what happened to you. You lived every day knowing that speaking truth could cost you everything, and yet you spoke anyway.

But this burden is not carried forward just for you. It must be carried forward for the purpose of freedom of speech itself. If we allow free speech to become punishable by death, then what have we accomplished as a nation? Where is the freedom our Founding Fathers held so dear? Here in 2025, it feels as though we have gone backwards — back to a time when only the bravest voices dared to speak. The difference is that those voices founded America. They built a country on courage, on dissent, and on the belief that truth deserves a hearing. And now, in your death, we are reminded of just how fragile that freedom is — and how urgently it must be defended.

To your wife Erika and your two young children: I cannot begin to imagine your pain. Please know that you are not alone in your grief. Millions of us — the young people Charlie believed in and fought for — are mourning with you. We share your sorrow, we honor your sacrifice, and we will carry his legacy forward. His life touched ours more than words can express, and his memory will never fade.

Thank you, Charlie, for being my hero.

With eternal respect and gratitude,
Skylar Ribotsky