The energy surged at Utah Valley University. The campus courtyard filled with thousands, along with a long line of students waiting behind a microphone. Somewhere in that line was BYU–Idaho student Dallin Smith, eager for the chance to go toe to toe in debate against conservative influencer Charlie Kirk.

“It was a very lively event,” Smith said. “Energy was high, phones were out — people were calling everyone to come.”

When the line grew too long near the stage, Smith met up with his sister on an elevated patio.

Moments later, the pop of a rifle echoed through the courtyard. At first, there was confusion. Then, after harsh realization, feet scattered as the fear-stricken audience searched for safety.

“My sister’s way smarter than me — she said, ‘We need to go. That was a gunshot,’” Smith recalled. “I ran back out and looked over the railing — more and more people were screaming, crying, scattering as quickly as they could.”

Still dazed, Smith asked panicked audience members what had happened.

“People told me, ‘No, it was Charlie — he got shot in the neck. I saw the whole thing.’”

Smith still questions it's reality. “Really? At Utah Valley University? In Utah?”

Rexburg responds

Communities across the nation felt the shock of Kirk’s assassination. Rexburg was no different.

Praises were sung, tears were shed and amens were shouted in Porter Park during a vigil Thursday in remembrance of Kirk. The tragedy felt personal: the local chapter of Turning Point USA has gained "tons of requests to join" since his death, according to a post on their Instagram page.

The gathering drew students from varying perspectives and backgrounds, united in support of the First Amendment and Kirk’s legacy.

“Now is not a time to be silent, but to stand up to truth, to be brave, because that’s what Charlie did,” one speaker declared, met with applause from the audience.

Another student bore testimony of faith: “We are living in the last days, but Jesus Christ will protect us.”

The freshman who saw it all

BYU–Idaho freshman Brooke Barnwell’s softly burning candle revealed tear-stained cheeks as she stood quietly among the crowd. The vigil wasn’t where she expected to be that September night. Just a week earlier, she had been in the audience at Utah Valley University when Kirk was shot.

“When the gunshot went off, everybody just hit the ground, and then everybody started running,” Barnwell said.

She described her disbelief. “You hear the gunshot and you see him fall, but you think, ‘That must’ve been something else … maybe he’s getting his hat.’ It doesn’t really hit you until you’ve thought about it.”

Her voice faltered as she remembered Kirk’s family. “I was on the upper right-hand side. I saw Erika Kirk and I saw his kids. There was a moment of confusion and silence before everyone ran and cried and mourned.”

But Barnwell lifted her chin with conviction. “I used to try not to step on people’s toes, but this is too important. God wants us to use our freedom of speech to better the country.”

For Smith, the assassination forces reflection on respect in politics.

“Even if you didn’t like Charlie Kirk’s views — which is totally fine — people should feel a general sadness,” Smith said.

Still, he doesn’t believe political events should disappear from college campuses. “I 100% think campuses should bring speakers. It’s healthy — gets you out of the echo chamber.”

He admired Kirk’s debate style, even though he disagrees with many of Kirk's stances. “He’d start with, ‘Okay, I agree with you here, but here’s where I disagree.’ That’s how politics should be — finding common ground first. Finding common ground is what we’ve missed out on as a society.”

Barnwell echoed the sentiment, her words lingering like the last hymn at the vigil:

“Speak and love one another. Speak your mind and be respectful to others. Like Charlie said, violence happens when talking stops.”

One step at a time, Rexburg marches forward by fostering what many in the community say matters most: faith, family and God.