A year after Charlie Kirk was murdered, a new collection of writings honors his legacy

This past Thursday marked one year since my friend Charlie Kirk was killed.I have spent most of that year reading him.I met Charlie in the summer of 2016.

Donald Trump Jr.introduced us in Jackson, Wyo.

I had never heard his name.I am not easily impressed.

Then the kid started naming donors.My donors, the ones I had spent a decade cultivating one dinner at a time, because getting into that world is an art form almost nobody manages.

He was 22 and he had all of them.My mouth hit the floor.

Turns out he liked my work too, and the mutual respect made us partners.The Charlie I knew then was not the one the internet thinks it knows.The clips of him successfully debating students on college campuses came later.

Back then, he was filling rooms with wide-eyed young adults who had finally found somewhere it was acceptable to be conservative.He loved this country first, and he loved Donald Trump as the standard-bearer for it.He loved watching conservatives and Christians find each other, and he showed up at their weddings.

Though he was then single, he knew the importance of marriage.Then lightning struck him.

Two dates in, he called me.Christy, he said, I met the woman I am going to marry.

He sent me two photographs of a stunning young woman named Erika.He never looked back, not for a single day.

He was honorable and faithful.After he met Erika, his faith went somewhere deeper.

I watched a boy who called himself a patriot and a Christian become a man of God on fire, leading a nation with a calm that came from knowing who he belonged to.He reconciled with old rivals, healed old wounds.

He had peace, and brought it with him wherever he went.He told young people what their lives were for: get married, have kids, praise God.Plenty mocked him for something so simple.

He kept saying it.He died at 31, and his children will grow up knowing exactly who their father was.

How many of us, given 80 years, could say the same?When he was killed, I did what you do when your own...