Chaffetz recounts terrifying moment Charlie Kirk was sh@t
Raised in the Chicago suburbs, Charlie Kirk’s story was supposed to be about hope and dialogue. Today marked the beginning of his much-anticipated “American Comeback Tour” at Utah Valley University—a place where he’d become famous for setting up his “Prove Me Wrong” table, ready to debate anyone on any topic. The crowd was buzzing with excitement, chanting his name. Families came together—Jason Chaffetz, his wife, and daughter among them—eager to witness Kirk in action.
.
.
.
Charlie threw hats, energized the audience, and took questions with his signature calm and professionalism. The first was about religion. Then, about thirty minutes into the event, he faced a question on transgender shooters and mass killings—a tense topic, but one Kirk didn’t shy away from.
Suddenly, a shot rang out.
Jason recalls, “I didn’t see blood, I didn’t see him get hit, but I saw Charlie fall backwards and to the left.” The shock rippled through the crowd. Kirk’s security team rushed him away, and rumors swirled online—photos of a man being hauled off, people frantically searching for updates, praying for Charlie’s safety.
As details emerged, the gravity of the situation became clear. Charlie Kirk, married to Erica for four years, father to two children, was at the center of a tragedy. The nation watched, hearts heavy, as news anchors and witnesses struggled to keep their composure.
California Governor Gavin Newsom issued a statement: “The attack on Charlie Kirk is disgusting, vile, and reprehensible. In the United States of America, we must reject political violence in every form.” The FBI director promised agents would be on the scene quickly, supporting the ongoing investigation. Pete Hegseth, Secretary of the Department of War, offered prayers, calling Kirk an incredible Christian, American, and human being.
Jason, still shaken, described the chaos: “There were about 2,000 people there, ready for dialogue. As soon as the shot rang out, everyone hit the deck, then scattered and screamed. I looked over to make sure my family was safe. Everyone was in disbelief.”
Utah Valley University, the state’s largest with 40,000 students, was thrown into turmoil. The quad—usually a place for open conversation—became a scene of panic.
As coverage continued, the world waited for news of Charlie Kirk’s condition, united in hope and prayer for his recovery and for an end to political violence.
