In the weeks following the shocking public assassination of her husband, Turning Point USA founder Charlie Kirk, Erika Kirk has largely maintained a composed, faith-centered public presence. Now, in a deeply emotional interview with The New York Times, she is opening up about the final, heartbreaking moments leading up to the tragedy and the spiritual resolve guiding her through the aftermath.

Erika recounted the morning of September 10th, the day Charlie was set to launch his campus tour in Provo, Utah. It began like many others, with Charlie rising early. “He got up and I could hear him eating something in the kitchen,” she recalled. “He’d been waiting all summer to begin touring.”
Because he left before she was fully awake, she missed the chance for a physical goodbye kiss. Instead, she sent him a simple, loving text message, words that would unknowingly become their final exchange: “I love you.” Hours later, that message would hang suspended in time, a poignant marker before the devastating news arrived.
Charlie Kirk, 31, was fatally shot in the neck while speaking on stage at Utah Valley University, an event that sent shockwaves across the nation. The call delivering the horrific news came from Charlie’s longtime assistant, Michael McCoy. Erika immediately boarded a plane from their home in Arizona, desperate to reach her husband’s side in Utah.
The flight itself became an indelible, haunting memory. Somewhere between the clouds and the mountains, bathed in the sunlight of what she described as a “gorgeous day,” Erika received the update she dreaded: Charlie had not survived. The juxtaposition of the beautiful scenery outside her window and the devastating reality inside the plane was surreal.
“I’m looking at the clouds and the mountains,” she remembered thinking during those agonizing moments. “It was such a gorgeous day, and I was thinking: This is exactly what he last saw.” It was a thought that connected her to his final perspective, a shared glimpse of the world before everything changed irrevocably.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Erika faced another difficult moment. A sheriff, likely trying to shield her from further trauma, advised her against viewing her husband’s body, gently explaining the extent of the damage caused by the bullet. But Erika insisted, her resolve firm even in grief.
“With all due respect,” she told the sheriff, “I want to see what they did to my husband.” Her description of that final sight is both haunting and imbued with her deep faith. She chose to see not just the violence inflicted, but a sense of peace she believes Charlie found in his final moments.
“His eyes were semi-open,” she described. “And he had this knowing, Mona Lisa-like half-smile. Like he’d die happy. Like Jesus rescued him. The bullet came, he blinked, and he was in heaven.” This interpretation, focusing on spiritual rescue rather than earthly suffering, reflects the profound Christian faith that has become her anchor.
That faith continues to guide her response to the tragedy, particularly regarding the accused shooter, 22-year-old Tyler Robinson, who surrendered to authorities two days after the incident. Many have asked Erika if she supports seeking the ultimate legal punishment for Robinson. Her answer is rooted in her spiritual beliefs about judgment and eternity.
“I do not want this man’s blood on my ledger,” she stated firmly. She explained her reasoning through a rhetorical question directed towards her faith: “Because when I get to heaven, and Jesus is like: ‘Uh, eye for an eye? Is that how we do it?’ And that keeps me from being in heaven, from being with Charlie?” Her focus remains on eternal consequence, choosing forgiveness over earthly vengeance.
Navigating this unimaginable loss, Erika emphasized her commitment to experiencing grief fully, without resorting to artificial means of numbing the pain. “I’m allowing myself to feel this so deeply, without medication, without alcohol,” she shared. “The Lord is giving me discernment.”
This approach, she believes, allows her to process the loss authentically while staying connected to her faith and her purpose. Her final text message to Charlie—”I love you”—now serves as more than just a last goodbye. It stands as a quiet promise, a vow to carry forward the memory, the mission, and the unwavering faith that defined the man she loved.