When a teen was kicked out for being gay, this progressive mom took him in. He destroyed her life over Charlie Kirk.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me. Read this,” John Strebe said to his wife Julie Heyn Strebe as he passed the phone across the table last weekend. He had been scrolling Facebook when he saw a post calling for Julie’s termination. It was from someone who was like part of the family.
Julie Heyn Strebe
Julie earned $20.20 an hour serving as an officer in Dent County, Missouri—a rural area two hours southwest of St. Louis, with a population just under 15,000. It’s a job she held since 2009. She has lived in Salem, a town of under 5,000, since 2006.
Since the local animal shelter shut down last year, Strebe had also stepped in as animal control officer, often helping animals in her off time. She held fundraisers for pet food and vet expenses, and regularly posted photos of abandoned and neglected dogs and cats she was trying to rehome. John is retired, and has a woodworking business on the side which supplements their income.
Despite living in a deeply conservative, overwhelmingly MAGA county, the 5’5”, 130-pound mother and grandmother was outspoken about her progressive values and unwavering support for the LGBTQ+ community. So when a local teenager was thrown out of his home on his 17th birthday for being gay, the Strebes opened their doors. They took him in as one of their own—buying him an iPhone, celebrating his milestones, and beaming with pride at his high school graduation.
After he moved on two years later, their relationship remained positive. He’d occasionally reach out for advice, and she continued to root for him from afar.
And then came Vice President JD Vance’s call to target the jobs of people who were critical of far-right personality Charlie Kirk.
A man parked his trailer outside of the Strebe home with a sign taped to it that read, “Julie Strebe Supports the Assassination of Charles Kirk.”
The young man called for Strebe’s termination over several social media platforms, highlighting her post that read: “Empathy is not owed to oppressors,” and her sharp comments about how she felt about Kirk. Local outrage erupted, with many claiming that the post was a veiled endorsement of political violence. Commenters whipped themselves into a frenzy with speculation that in her official position, Strebe would treat known MAGA supporters unfairly and even refuse to assist them in life or death situations. One resident parked a large trailer outside the Strebe home with a duct-taped sign that read: “Julie Strebe Supports the Assassination of Charles Kirk.” Her husband’s woodworking business was doxxed, and a local daycare worker who watches the Strebes’ grandchild expressed hostility toward the family.
Strebe’s voluntary removal of her posts did nothing to quell the storm. As the situation escalated, I reached out to the young man for comment. (Naming him would only serve to elevate him within far-right circles; this story is about Strebe.)
When he didn’t respond to my message, I commented on one of his public posts, asking why he was doing this to her, and included a photo of him at graduation—with Strebe beside him, visibly proud.
He replied:
“Chris Andoe, look how nasty you’re trying to be. This was a great moment in my life. I remember this and I remember how proud she was. I feel very fond of this moment and I wouldn’t change a thing. Shame on you for trying to make this personal and bringing up things that literally do not matter. People know me, people know my life. You need to get one before you go insane and think before you post, especially when you have such a high-profile reputation for your magazine. Thank you, I will never be responding to you again. Shame on you.”
The young man’s father also messaged me, and we ended up having a lengthy, respectful exchange—despite disagreeing on nearly everything. He insisted Strebe was unfit because “she was comfortable with cold-blooded murder.” I told him I didn’t think he truly believed that. To me, this seemed more like a personal vendetta fueled by him and opportunistically tied to the Kirk controversy.
On Friday, under growing pressure, the Dent County Sheriff’s Office announced Strebe’s suspension.
The Strebes have been bombarded with hate mail from people in their community and across the country.
The Strebe family is now packing up their home. They plan to leave the community they’ve known for nearly two decades —hoping to resettle in St. Louis. But with only her husband’s retirement income, that’s easier said than done.
One of the last things I told the young man’s father was this: running the Strebes out of town won’t feel as satisfying as he, his son, or the townspeople think it will.
I’ve often said that the best and worst thing about Republicans is their loyalty. It’s frustrating when their loyalty blinds them to the obvious faults of a leader, but appreciated when that loyalty shows up in friendship. On the Left, we’re sometimes quick to exile people over minor offenses. In contrast, my Republican friends have often been the “ride or die” type. But under the influence of Trump-era politics—where turning on neighbors, friends, and coworkers has become a badge of honor—personal loyalty seems to be becoming a thing of the past.
Because of where they live, most of the Strebes’ friends in town are Christian and MAGA. Many have contacted them to say that what’s happening to them is wrong, but they are afraid to speak out publicly.
I did find the young man’s defensive response revealing. Especially his argument that his attack on Strebe wasn’t personal. He’s currently ensconced in the comfort of the mob and riding the echo chamber high, with his family hyping him about starting a podcast, but when he comes down, he will have to live with how he repaid the Strebes’ kindness. And that will likely be hard to live with.
From taking in a gay kid with nowhere to go, to using her little platform to speak on injustice, Julie Heyn Strebe has been a wonderful friend to our community—and it cost her everything. Please help her and her family get to the St. Louis area and rebuild their lives. Even keeping her “on the payroll” by donating one hour’s pay, $20.20, will add up.
Donations can be made via GoFundMe.
