(Ed Rush) – I’ve wrestled with sending this.
Charlie Kirk is dead. Shot by an assassin.
But that’s not the reason I’m hesitating. I’m hesitating because of the comparison I am about to make.
I know that I am about to offend people, and I also know (for sure) I’ll be taken out of context.
Can you trust my heart for a moment?
Because I want to compare Charlie Kirk’s death to George Floyd’s – and not in the way you expect.
You see: George Floyd was a symbol.
After his death, I sat with my black friends and wept with them.
They weren’t weeping for the man; they were weeping because it reminded them of the umpteen times they were terrified at a traffic stop, worried that some Buford T. Justice character would throw them to the ground because of the color of their skin.
His death triggered real fear, real memories, real wounds.
For them, George Floyd’s death was a symbol of a personal experience. It was their face down on the concrete, not some convicted drug offenders.
And so I wept with them.
Not because I shared their experience. (I didn’t.) I wept with them because God LOVES them, and because of that I. DO. TOO.
Now, I know who George Floyd was as a person. You don’t have to send me angry letters clarifying the situation. I know what happened there. I get it.
My point is that his death was (and frankly, still is) a cultural symbol.
Same with Charlie’s.
Charlie’s greatest gift was his ability to draw someone into an honest discussion, to ask good questions, and to engage without emotion.
He was a champion of calm, reasoned debate.
He honored people — even those wearing “F*** Charlie Kirk” shirts.
His mission was to talk, not to yell. To ask questions, not hurl insults. To seek truth, not just win arguments.
And now, he’s gone.
It feels like more than a man was killed. It feels like the death of discussion itself.
That’s what hurts: the silence that follows.
The fear to speak.
The labels: Bigot. Racist. Extremist.
The lie that truth is violence.
America was built on the principle of nuanced debate. I mean, how else will we solve our (massive) national disconnect if we can’t talk about it?
That’s why this hurts so much.
It hurts because it says, “We don’t want to discuss it. We just want you gone.”
It hurts because you and I both know people who don’t want to talk.
It hurts because they accuse you of “violent” speech, even when we know it’s not.
And then there’s his little girl – jumping into his arms after an interview.
That image wrecked me. I’ve got a 7-year-old daughter. I can’t even talk about it.
Now, here is the question…what should you DO about it?
Yes, pray…that’s always a good place to start.
But, for Heaven’s sake, don’t STOP there.
Why don’t we use this tragedy as a clarion call to action?
Where is the man of God who will rise up and take the ground?
Where is the person who will BUY CNN, MSNBC, Disney, The New York Times, and every network that participated in the national brainwashing that (clearly) fueled this assassination?
I’m just going to say it: IT’S TIME.
Where is the young man or woman who will launch new channels on TikTok, YouTube, and Rumble?
Where are the thousands who will fill Charlie’s shoes?
Honestly, I have had enough of talking about it.
It’s time to do it.
Rest in peace, Charlie.
You ran your race.
You earned your crown.
We’ll take it from here.
And I promise — you won’t be disappointed.
Mr. Rush is a decorated former Marine Corps F-18 pilot turned business consultant, keynote speaker, and 5-time #1 best-selling author. The opinions expressed by contributors are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Nevada News & Views.
