For many, Charlie Kirk was more than just a polarizing political figure: he was a rising voice in U.S. conservative politics, co-founder and leader of Turning Point USA, and a prominent public speaker. On September 10, 2025, while speaking at an event at Utah Valley University (UVU) in Orem, Utah, Kirk was fatally shot. The event, part of his “American Comeback Tour,” drew a large crowd of students and supporters. Around 12:23 p.m. MDT, a single gunshot struck him in the neck during a Q&A session. He was rushed to a hospital, but died later that afternoon.
In the days following the assassination, authorities identified a suspect — a 22-year-old named Tyler James Robinson — who was arrested on September 12. He was subsequently charged with aggravated murder, felony discharge of a firearm causing serious bodily injury, and additional charges related to obstruction, witness tampering, and violent offenses. The attack was widely condemned as a “political assassination,” and investigations by local law enforcement, the state authorities, and the FBI were launched. But the pain of the tragedy has been deeply entwined with a preceding controversy. Just two days before the shooting, Jezebel — a controversial outlet — published an article titled “We Paid Some Etsy Witches to Curse Charlie Kirk,” describing how an anonymous writer claimed to have hired self-described witches from an online marketplace to cast symbolic curses at Kirk in response to his political views. The spells — including one ominously titled “Make Everyone Hate Him” — were purported to generate misfortune, social malaise, or symbolic harm, though the article claimed it was satire.
According to media coverage and statements from broadcaster Megyn Kelly, the Jezebel piece had a profound emotional impact on Kirk and his wife Erika. Reportedly, the couple were “rattled” by the article’s content, which led them to pray with a priest the night before the fatal event — a decision rooted in their Christian faith and concern over spiritual threats. Erika, in particular, was shaken by the notion of curses targeting her husband. Following the shooting, Jezebel removed the article and added an editor’s note condemning the violence and stating they had never intended to incite physical harm. Nonetheless, the debate over the ethics of the article — satire or reckless provocation — continues.
In the wake of her husband’s death, Erika Kirk has shared candid reflections about the emotional turmoil and grief she has endured. According to recent reporting, she described being deeply unsettled not only by the tragic loss but by the preceding public hostility and symbolic threats. The reports say she has struggled with fear, loss, and the weight of navigating grief in the public eye, while simultaneously dealing with the implications of the Jezebel article and what it represented for her family’s safety and peace. Her willingness to speak publicly about her loss, faith, and trauma has drawn both sympathy and broader reflection on the human cost behind political violence and media provocation.
Beyond the personal tragedy, the entire sequence has sparked a larger conversation about media responsibility, the boundaries of satire, and the consequences of incendiary rhetoric — especially when political figures are involved. Critics argue that publishing content which treats symbolic curses or “witchcraft” as political commentary steps into dangerous territory, particularly in a climate of polarization and threats. Many say that, regardless of whether violence followed directly from the article, the timing (just days before the assassination) and the nature of the rhetoric blurred lines between free speech, mockery, and potential incitement. Supporters of Erika’s perspective contend that media outlets should bear ethical responsibility for the emotional impact their content can have on real people.
In the end — even as investigations continue and public grief endures — Erika Kirk’s decision to reveal her family’s anguish has transformed a private sorrow into a wider call for empathy, reflection, and accountability. Her story underscores how media, rhetoric, political activism, and personal lives can collide — often with devastating consequences. It raises profound questions: about how we treat public figures, how satire is used or abused, and what responsibilities fall on writers and publishers when their words reach millions. Above all, it reminds us that behind political controversy and headline-making events lie real people, families, and very human pain — and that the cost of division, hatred, or provocation is always paid in lives and heartbreak.