Honoring and Remembering Charlie Kirk, One Year Later

In 2026, if you gathered a large group of Christians or conservatives and asked whether they’d heard of Charlie Kirk, nearly every hand would go up. Ask whether he was one of the very best among us, and you’d likely get the same answer.

Charlie had a rare gift: the ability to deliver an unpopular truth with kindness. He didn’t shout people down. He sat down with them. He walked into rooms full of people who disagreed with him—sometimes venomously—and stayed anyway, arms open, ready to talk. He believed an honest conversation was worth more than an easy insult, and he proved that conviction and compassion could live in the same sentence.

A year ago, that voice went silent far too soon. The shock of Sept. 10, 2025, is something many of us still carry. For a movement that leaned on Charlie’s clarity and courage, the loss was both disorienting and, for a lot of people, deeply personal.

We at Alliance Defending Freedom feel that loss, too. Charlie’s influence never stayed confined to a stage or a college quad. It reached people, including some of our own clients, whose lives and faith were shaped, in part, by a man they may have only met once, or never met at all.

That’s the story we want to tell here. Below, you’ll hear directly from two ADF clients: what Charlie meant to them, what changed because of him, and what they carry forward now.

Charlie Kirk spent his life pointing people toward something bigger than himself. A year later, that’s still exactly where he’s pointing.

Real clients, real stories about Charlie Kirk

Charlie’s life touched swathes of people far beyond the platforms and headlines. But this was especially true for the younger generation. Two such stories come from ADF clients—and they wanted to share how Charlie Kirk had impacted them.

Gabby Stout

I watched Charlie Kirk long before I ever imagined defending his memory would cost me something. Over the past twelve months, I experienced being falsely accused of a crime I didn’t commit, fear over what my school administration might do to me, and national attention—all because I wanted to honor Charlie Kirk’s life and be bold in my faith in Jesus Christ, just like Charlie.

Like many students at my school and on campuses across the country, I admired Charlie Kirk because he stood for God, family, and country and because he was willing to boldly defend his biblical beliefs. He took the time to visit college campuses and engage in conversations with people who disagreed with him. His intent was never to humiliate students. Instead, he encouraged young people to think critically, stand up for what they believed, and defend their faith. He is the only person I can think of in my lifetime who was completely sold out for Jesus Christ.

After Charlie was assassinated, I was distraught. I simply couldn’t understand why someone would be killed because another person disagreed with his beliefs. After several days of waiting to see what my community was going to do, I decided to create my own memorial for Charlie. If I was mourning and feeling so helpless, I figured other students were probably feeling the same way.

That was when I decided to paint my school’s spirit rock with a tribute to Charlie Kirk and include John 11:25, which says, “…I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.” My message was one of hope.

What followed was a fight I never expected.

I decided to take a stand because I believed the way I was treated by my school district was wrong. They should not be able to silence someone simply because they disagree with what that person has to say. Charlie Kirk showed me that being bold and courageous in your faith may cost you everything—even your life.

I was willing to fight because I believe that is what Charlie would have wanted me to do, and because I know that the battle belongs to the Lord. I don’t have any regrets about how things turned out. I only wish that, instead of being afraid, I had looked to God more throughout the process.

Through all of this, I hope I have inspired other conservative students to stand boldly and not be afraid. I am proud to be a seventeen-year-old student who was able to help change policy at my high school and across Charlotte to better protect our First Amendment rights.

Jack Denton

I was in my first semester of college at Florida State University during the summer of 2017. The graduate assistant teaching my entry-level English composition course assigned us an essay requiring us to interview someone about their life. The year before, I had attended CPAC’s annual D.C. conference as a student ambassador for Turning Point USA and had the opportunity to meet Charlie Kirk in person. Back then, TPUSA was just emerging as a popular student organization on college campuses, so Charlie was pretty accessible. He would meet with all the ambassadors every morning in our hotel lobby, which is when I had the chance to chat with him.

I decided to reach out to Charlie on Twitter to see if he would be willing to hop on a twenty-minute phone call with me so I could interview him for my assignment. A couple of days passed, and then I received a response. Charlie was not only willing to do the interview, but he was going to be in Tallahassee on business the following weekend, so he was available to do it in person. I’ll never forget sitting down with him in the common area of my freshman dorm, listening to him share with me his background, the story of starting TPUSA, and his vision for America. 

Charlie fiercely loved this country. His belief in America motivated him to start TPUSA and work tirelessly to grow it into the largest and most effective grassroots student organization in the country. Two traits he mentioned to me during the interview that he said he admired in others were high integrity and a strong work ethic. “A big thing growing up and still to this day is don’t let anyone else outwork you. I try to embody that every day,” he said. With an attitude like that, it’s no surprise Turning Point is as big as it is today.

I continued to follow Charlie and TPUSA since that interview. What always stuck out to me most about him (as I’m sure it did for others, too) was his knowledge of history. If you’ve ever watched one of his speeches or debates, you’ll know what I mean. He had to have been one of the most well-read people of my generation, despite skipping college. In the last couple of years before Charlie’s death, my dad would often send me clips of Charlie speaking at college campuses or debating students. He was struck, too, by Charlie’s eloquence and intellect.

The day Charlie was killed was one of the saddest days in recent memory for me. Although I didn’t know him well, his death felt to me like a personal loss. Charlie fought unapologetically for what he believed in, yet he did it without personally attacking others or belittling them. He was a cheerful soldier, knowing that in the end Christ wins the final battle over evil. I am grateful for Charlie’s life, and I know our country and my generation are better off because of his work.

Charlie Kirk’s lessons will endure

In a culture that often rewards outrage over understanding, Charlie showed that conviction and kindness aren’t opposites. They can, and should, live in the same person.

A year later, Gabby’s and Jack’s stories are proof that his influence didn’t end with his life. It moved a high schooler to stand firm for free speech on campus. It shaped a college freshman’s understanding of integrity years before the world knew his name. And it continues, quietly, in every person who decided to speak the truth a little more boldly, and a little more graciously, because Charlie showed them how.

We don’t know every life Charlie touched, or every way his example will keep echoing forward. But we know this: The freedoms he defended—to speak, to believe, to peaceably disagree—are the same freedoms ADF exists to protect.

Charlie Kirk’s voice may be gone from the earth. The truths he stood for are not. And neither is our resolve to defend them, for the next Gabby and the next Jack.