Charlie Kirk's Wife Speaks

On Friday (September 12), his wife, Erika Frantzve, delivered her first speech following the fatal shooting of her husband.

Erika talked about the impact Charlie left here on this earth and the movement that he started to inspire young people and point them to Christ.

She spoke from Charlie’s podcast studio in Arizona, reflecting on his bold life of action and love while standing next to his empty chair.

@kateaustiin

My heart aches for her. Truly devastating. #erikakirk #charliekirk #turningpoint #fyp

♬ Everything In Its Right Place – SAD

“In a world filled with chaos and uncertainty, my husband’s voice will remain,” Erika said.

She encouraged young people to continue getting involved and being courageous for the things they are passionate about.

Erika told the country that the evil that was done to her husband “unleashed” an entire generation that would rise up and stand for what they believed was right.

“I can’t wait to see you again one day,” she continued.

Erika thanked everyone who supported Charlie, and shared the gospel of Christ, reminding the world that he was home in heaven where he always wanted to be.

The couple married on May 08, 2021, in Scottsdale, Arizona. Erika is a social entrepreneur and passionate ministry leader, according to her official website.

She has also worked in the entertainment industry as a model, actress, and casting director.

Additionally, she is listed as the CEO and founder of organizations such as Every Day Heroes Like You and PROCLAIM Ministry x BIBLEin365 clothing line.

Charlie and Erika share two children, a three-year-old daughter and a one-year-old son.

Our thoughts and prayers go out to Charlie Kirk’s family.

You Missed

“He didn’t disappear. He just took the long road into the sky.” Only days after Merle Haggard was laid to rest, the silence at the Shasta County ranch felt almost unbearable, as if the land itself was holding its breath. The barn that had once pulsed with late-night chords and laughter stood still, dust floating in the pale light. Ben, Noel, and Marty stepped inside together, none of them quite ready, yet unable to stay away. The guitars were still there, exactly where their father had left them, as if he might walk back in at any moment. “Play something he’d recognize,” someone murmured, barely louder than the wind outside. For a long second, no one moved. Then Ben lifted the weathered Martin guitar — the one etched with years of calloused fingers and restless nights. The first notes of “Silver Wings” rang out, fragile but clear. Noel’s voice joined, then Marty’s. It wasn’t polished, it wasn’t perfect — but it was real, trembling with memory. And as they reached the line, “don’t leave me, I cry…”, the words seemed to hang in the air, heavier than ever before. People in the room felt it at the same time: this wasn’t just a song anymore. It was a bridge, a way of reaching someone just beyond sight. When the final chord faded into the rafters, Ben looked down at the guitar and spoke quietly, his voice breaking, “He didn’t disappear… he just took the long road into the sky.” From that night forward, every time the Haggard boys sang “Silver Wings,” it wasn’t a performance, and it wasn’t even a tribute. It was the closest thing they had to hearing their father answer back.