Who is Trey Reid? and What Happened? Are We There Yet?
Where Are Our Cries for Trey Reid?
Originally written September 2025 by Grace C. Walker
My fellow Trinis, Americans, family members, and friends. To those I have worked alongside, prayed with, sung with—Christian flag bearers of every denomination—each of us distinct, yet united by our devotion to faith and truth.
This month, the world witnessed two deaths. One dominates the news cycle, sermonized and eulogized across pulpits and political podiums. The other flickers quietly, painful and raw, among family and classmates still waiting for answers.
Charlie Kirk: A Nation’s Mourning
The deceased Mr. Kirk, only thirty-one, built his platform with millions of followers. He used his voice, without hesitation, to tell Americans that their Christian walk validated their right to claim personhood and autonomy. He made no pretense in casting his convictions, often along the lines of race, politics, and faith. He spoke fervently of the Second Amendment. His life was ended by a sniper’s bullet—an act of violence from one of his own ilk, inflamed by hate and bigotry.
In response, the nation grieves loudly. The President has ordered flags at half-mast. The Vice President accompanied his coffin. Sermons and podcasts proclaim his life and death as national loss, lifting his legacy to the heights of patriotic devotion.
The Administration, who are sending bombs into Caribbean waters and killing supposed cartels and drug traffickers with only suspicion, breaking international treaties, and who have from the day of Inauguration to the present exhausted the signing and repealing of Constitutionally enacted bills, is now the loudest voice giving national grieving for the deceased Mr. Kirk with sovereign certainty.
We, as Christian-professing believers, the people—even in Trinidad and Tobago—who lend patriotic voices of support to the honor and regalia of Mr. Kirk’s faithful legacy, must pause. Even as someone recently said, “the U.S. has every right to fire anyone who speaks ill of the dead,” we need also to grieve and take sorrow in the tragedy of Trey Reid, found hanging from a tree in Mississippi.
Trey Reid: A Community’s Silence
Demartravion “Trey” Reid, 21, from Grenada, Mississippi. A student at Delta State University in Cleveland. On Monday, September 15, 2025, his body was found hanging from a tree near the pickleball courts on campus.
Investigations are ongoing. Authorities say there is currently no evidence of foul play. The coroner reported no broken limbs. The Mississippi Bureau of Investigation is assisting; an autopsy is pending.
But his family and fellow students want more answers. Rumors of injuries swirl online. Black students speak of fear. Community members whisper the painful truth of Mississippi’s past—that when a young Black man is found hanging from a tree, suspicion is not easily silenced.
Faith, Politics, and Selective Grief
Here lies the difference. Our media, our politics, our religious circles—they choose who is applauded, who is demonized, who is sermonized, and who is eulogized.
Mr. Kirk left behind a wife and two young children. He receives the full weight of national mourning, bipartisan tribute, and Christian solidarity.
Trey Reid was 21. He, too, was someone’s child. His name, his life, his unanswered death—still searching for a cry of outrage, a demand for justice, or even a whisper of fellowship.
If we as Christians profess the faith we claim, should we not pause long enough to ask: where is the Christ in mankind when a young man’s body hangs from a tree in Mississippi in the year 2025? Where are our sanctimonious cries of injustice and inhumanity then?
A Call to Remember Both
This is not about diminishing one life for another. It is about widening our capacity for compassion.
We grieve Charlie Kirk, a man whose platform stirred a nation, even in controversy. We must also grieve Trey Reid, a young student, his promise extinguished in silence.
To honor one and ignore the other is to practice a selective Christianity that Christ Himself would never claim.
I ask only this: that we remember them both, and in so doing, remember the Christ who taught us to value every life with equal measure of mercy, justice, and love.