A son, his late father’s legacy, and an unforgettable moment: How a Hawkeye community came together after tragedy The weeks leading up to Thanksgiving are hectic for many families, with school programs, holiday preparations, and kitchens filled with the aromas of roast turkey and pie. However, a young man from eastern Iowa experienced a heartbreak that no family should ever have to endure during Thanksgiving week in 2025.
His father, Chad Peters, was killed in a terrible scaffolding accident while working on a site project a few days prior to the holiday. Friends, neighbors, and family were devastated by the unexpected and irreversible fall. In addition to being a cherished husband and father, Chad was a man whose spirit was woven into the fabric of his community. He was well-known for his easy smile and steadfast devotion to the Iowa Hawkeyes, a lifelong fan whose devotion to the university teams, game days, and fight songs was just as fervent as his commitment as a family man.
Because it was a part of his father’s identity, his son saw being a Hawkeye as more than just jerseys and football Saturdays. He could talk endlessly about the Hawkeyes’ most recent significant win or how his father never missed a home game, even on quiet Tuesday afternoons. Beyond just memories, Chad left behind a son who wished to preserve the Hawkeye spirit despite grief and shock. Local networks, Hawkeye fan clubs, and social media communities swiftly disseminated information about the family’s tragedy. Something unexpected emerged from that spread: people taking action.
Drake, a well-known figure in the Hawkeye and larger Iowa athletics community for his character as well as his athletic ability, responded to the outreach with a heartfelt message. (In Hawkeye circles, “Drake,” a student-athlete adored by both teammates and supporters, has come to stand for leadership off the field.) He did more than just send a message after learning about the struggles the Peters family had faced; he took action. Drake invited the young man and his family to an unforgettable private Hawkeye experience on a cool Saturday afternoon in December, just as Iowa City was feeling the first real winter chill. There were no press releases or banners, just personal time, presence, and a silent act of kindness that cut through suffering.
They met close to Kinnick Stadium, where the stands held recollections of innumerable triumphs and the lights shone against the chilly air. Drake accompanied the young man as they passed the field where so many college dreams have come true and went through the players’ tunnel. Together, they stopped beneath the press box, gazed out at the turf, and discussed life, including loss, loyalty, and what it means to be a part of a supportive community.
The young man would later say, “He told me to keep my head up,” his eyes still shining with the recollection but his voice steady. “He said that I belong here and that my dad would be proud of the way I live; I am a Hawkeye because of him.” From one Hawkeye to another, it was a consoling moment that went beyond any typical college visit; it was affirmation.
The gesture was more than just symbolic to the Peters family. Friends and neighbors had already planned meals, fundraisers, childcare, and quiet check-ins in the weeks following Chad’s passing. However, this was a reminder that there are paths to hope even in the midst of grief. Some of Chad’s friends, who grew up with him, worked next to him, and played games with him on chilly fall afternoons, claim that his passion for the Hawkeyes and his love of family were inextricably linked. He instilled in his son the values of supporting the people who are most important, respecting every opponent, and cheering for every touchdown. Every Hawkeye yell that reverberates through the Peters home on game day, according to friends, carries on that legacy.
Drake gave the young man another surprise a few hours after they had strolled the field together: a signed Hawkeye jersey with his name and his father’s phone number on it. It was a reminder of roots and heritage, a symbol of continuity rather than a trophy or a gift to be displayed. It was profound for someone who had just witnessed the person who gave him that heritage taken away.
Hawkeye supporters responded to the outpouring of support on social media with tales of kindness from strangers, recollections of Chad, and reminders that community is a practice rather than just a word. Chad once stopped mid-game to assist a neighbor in changing a flat tire, according to a former classmate, because “that’s just who he was.” Another posted a picture of Chad at a tailgate, his Hawkeye gear pulled snugly against an Iowa wind, his face bright with a toothy smile. When situations like this arise, people in small towns and on campus rely on the phrase “we’re all Hawkeyes here.” Yes, it’s an expression of shared loyalty, but it’s also about something more profound: shared heart and shared responsibility.
That sentiment has taken on new significance for the young man who lost his father. He bears pride and sorrow, a connection that will keep him strong and a grief that will never completely go away. And he is aware that he won’t travel this path alone because of the encouragement from Drake, other fans, and the larger Hawkeye family. That is the appearance of a community. That is what it means to show up for people: with bravery, empathy, and a generosity that respects both the living and the dead.
