More than 100 Charlie Kirk supporters gathered on Monday to mourn the assassination of the Turning Point founder in the town where his political career began.
A police officer stood guard outside the Redeemer Lutheran Church in Jackson, where the service was held.
“We have no fear,” Pastor David Bott told the packed congregation. “No fear,” he said, despite the fact that “concerned folks outside the building who are worried about us.”
Kirk’s death, Bott claimed, revealed the true cost of discipleship. “We see how high that cost can be,” Bott told the mourners.
Bott prayed that Kirk’s assassin would repent. “He considered Charlie unworthy of life,” Bott said of the shooter who killed the conservative activist on September 10 during an event at Utah Valley University.
“What was really happening was this guy was coming to town to lead us.”
Judd Grossman
The pastor delivered his sermon to members of his congregation as well as visiting mourners who were unfamiliar with Lutheran practices. “My wife told me to pick familiar hymns,” he said as he greeted visitors.
Lynn Friess, wife of the late Foster Friess, who gave Kirk’s organization its first large donation, was in the congregation. A day before, she announced that she would donate $1 million “to support the thousands of new [Turning Point USA] chapters springing up across the country.”
“Foster always believed in Charlie’s vision and often said that helping Charlie build TPUSA was the best investment he ever made,” her Facebook post announcing the donation read.
Devastated
“I never met the man,” Bott said about Kirk. Nonetheless, after learning of the assassination, “I found myself choked up.”
Many people were equally surprised.
Mourner Hort Spitzer stated that he had guided two late wives through cancer to their deaths. Nevertheless, Kirk said, “I’ve never been so emotionally affected by someone’s death.”
Judd Grossman, who met Kirk when Foster Friess first brought the young activist to Jackson to network and raise funds, was also devastated. He described the assassination as the most significant and consequential killing since those of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy.
“I definitely see him as probably the most dynamic leader in the conservative movement besides Trump,” says Grossman. “He was a true leader of people. “He could’ve been president.”
Among the hymns, readings, and prayers, Pastor Bott mentioned Kirk’s impressive intellect.
“He simply asked people who disagreed with him questions,” Bott told me. “That challenged his detractors to do something they weren’t used to — think.”
When challenged, the pastor stated that Kirk “just responded with truth.”
Kirk’s critics claimed he was hateful, but Bott said the political activist’s signature speeches on college campuses were polite and respectful.
Grossman had a sneak peek at Kirk’s passion, focus, and dedication about 13 years ago. Foster Friess organized a lunch meeting for Kirk, Grossman, and the late state Senator Leland Christensen at the Wort Hotel in Jackson.
“When Foster invited me to something, it was always interesting,” says Grossman.
Didn’t finish his lunch
Despite their lack of funds, Grossman believed he and Christensen had earned an invitation to support Kirk’s mission due to their conservative credentials.
“I felt puffed up,” Grossman explained. Grossman remembered Kirk as a teenager.
“I thought, ‘OK, here’s a young kid. Leland and I will mentor him and share our knowledge of the deep roots of conservative philosophy. “It will be fantastic for the kid.”
Grossman recalls seeing Kirk silhouetted in the Wort’s large windows, as the world passed by on Jackson’s Broadway just outside.
Then came “five to ten minutes of chit-chat,” Grossman explained, “trying to tell him a little about Jackson Hole and the Tea Party.”
The two sensed something amiss. Kirk’s phone rang, he took the call and disappeared for a few minutes. Back at the table, he got to the point.
“I gotta go,” Kirk said, according to Grossman.
“He was gone,” Grossman said, “our meeting was cut short.”
As for the lunch, “I’m not sure he ate much of it at all.
“I was like ‘The nerve of this guy, he’s missing out on all this wisdom,’” Grossman recalled.
“It was kind of funny and a little embarrassing,” Grossman said in hindsight. “I thought I was a little more important than I [really] was.”
Grossman believed he and Christensen were there to pass the conservative torch to another generation.
“What was really happening was this guy was coming to town to lead us.”
“He [was] laser-focused,” Grossman said. “His job was to raise some money. He didn’t have any time to waste.
“It’s extra poignant now that his life has been cut short.”
