You Don’t Know Charlie

I had just begun an online interview for a senior management position at PC Matic. We exchanged initial pleasantries and the candidate’s eyes darted toward his computer screen followed by a pause. A slight frown, and then he uttered, “Charlie Kirk has been shot.” At that point, the interview stopped, as the candidate provided real time information on Charlie’s status. Before the interview recommenced, I shared with the candidate. I knew Charlie Kirk.

It was many years ago, before the pandemic, Charlie interviewed me for a podcast. We discussed for 45 minutes the nation’s escalating cybersecurity threats, and PC Matic’s application whitelisting. At the time, I could not help but notice how young and accomplished Charlie was. I thought. This kid is going places. That’s it. That is how I know Charlie.

What I feel is sad. I feel sad that I will not have the opportunity to talk to Charlie again, and perhaps do another podcast. What makes me the most sad is that there are those who feel that my sadness is not justified. There are those who think that Charlie “had it coming.”

Death is part of life. Somehow we all “have it coming.” Hence, mourning is a natural part of life. Of course, no one mourns every death every day of every human. The most empathetic person in the history of time. No, we mourn the people we know. For unknown dead people, the normal response is indifference. There are men and women that die on death row every day, and I am intentionally unaware. I don’t think they “had it coming.”, although they probably did. I feel nothing.

For those that think that Charlie had it coming, YOU DON’T KNOW CHARLIE. Let those us that did mourn. Mourning is not easy, and you are pointlessly dragging this out.

Charlie was an unapologetically religious man. As America speeds toward atheism, I think that Charlie would counsel to love your neighbor as yourself.