America feels feverish. Every tragedy, every outrage, every breaking headline arrives as tinder in a room already burning. The murder of Charlie Kirk became, almost instantly, a political hammer — and worse, a lie that slotted too neatly into the script our leaders have used for years.
The suspect did not fit the “radical left” caricature, yet politicians rushed in, weaponizing grief, pointing fingers where they did not belong. That reflex — to blame, to split, to score — is not a mistake. It’s a symptom of a deeper illness: a vacuum of leadership and a nation that has forgotten how to remember.
On September 11, a day we swore we would never forget, we seemed to do so almost instantly. The memory of shared loss and unity faded, and the emotion of that day — fear, grief, rage — has too often been redirected onto new scapegoats and new narratives.
We see it now in the tragic murder of Kirk, where fear was immediately twisted into division. Violence is never the way, but it becomes more tangible when people are trapped in fear, when fear itself becomes their god.
I caught Matthew McConaughey’s appearance on the “Today Show,” and I found myself saying, “There, he seems to get it.” He spoke about how America has no “North Star” right now. He’s right.
For decades, we’ve ridden the same cycles of fear and outrage. We’ve lost our identity not by accident but by design. Those who profit from division have perfected the playbook: divide and conquer, hollow out memory, hoard power.
Here’s proof: In the 1970s, more than 70 percent of Congress members were veterans. They had worn the uniform and carried the weight of service. Today, that number has dwindled to less than 18 percent. With that decline came the loss of a shared ethic — that leadership is service, not spectacle.
I saw that ethic serving aboard the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower — a ship named for a president who embodied it. I wasn’t arming missiles. I wasn’t flying jets. I worked in administration. None of that made me less essential. On a ship of 5,000, every role mattered. If pay was late, if families at home struggled, if one link broke, the mission suffered. That was leadership: not headlines, not ego, but ensuring every sailor could carry the load together.
That same ethos once resonated in Congress. Now, it has thinned into performance. What veterans still know in their bones, too many politicians have forgotten: without care for the whole, the mission collapses.
Here is where we must stop. Stop. About face. Look behind us. Remember.
We forgot what we once fought for. America is not an agenda or a partisan vision. It is a belief that all people are created equal, that we owe one another dignity, honesty and accountability.
Veterans ask, “What was it all for?” as they watch hard-won ground overseas slip away. Citizens ask, “What was it all for?” as they watch promises broken, truths redacted, corruption normalized. Both questions cut to the same wound: purpose lost, because remembrance was abandoned.
We need Americans willing to help clear the way. Organizations and leaders with the courage and resources to propel those bound by service into positions where they can serve again, this time in government, this time restoring order and direction. Because the game is rigged.
Lobbying, money, and corruption have hollowed out both political parties. What remains is the Constitution. The oath. The people.
This isn’t a call for those who served. We have already stood the watch, carried the burden, and sworn the oath. We are here. Ready. Waiting.
This is a call to those who trusted us with their sons and daughters. To those who trusted us to give our lives if necessary. The same dedication, loyalty and honor that guided us in uniform can — and must — be brought back to American politics and public life. Not for parties. Not for power. For people. For the country.
Because we cannot fix the world until we fix ourselves. Restoration begins at home.
We cannot call ourselves the leader of the Free World when we are deprived of freedom and unity at home.
The call is simple. Remember. Restore. Return to the basics. Back to the people.
As a veteran, nothing would make me prouder than to help lead us back to the light we have all known — and still long to feel. Stop. About face. Look behind us. Now, move forward. Together.
