Adventurous, happy, carefree, wild, loving
Jarren never needed a compass. Whether he was solo camping in the woods or supporting a friend in a moment of turmoil, he moved with natural confidence, warmth, and intelligence. Jarren’s adept nature was clear from the start. As a child, he was industrious, bright, and quick beyond his years, learning to walk at seven and a half months, ride a bike (sans training wheels) at three, and soon devouring books by four. As an adult, his competent nature lent itself to many passions, including swimming, kayaking, fishing, hiking, and hunting.
Anishinaabe and proud of his heritage, Jarren’s native name is Migiziinini. It means Eagle Man. He was always eager to learn about his indigenous heritage and participate in powwows. After high school, he attended college for forestry in Appleton, but struggled being away from his family and moved back after a year. He preferred work that was people-oriented and close to home.
Known among his peers for his emotional intelligence and empathy, Jarren easily and openly communicated his feelings. He was sensitive and felt no shame in shedding tears. These traits drew people to him, and his life was rich with many intimate, lifelong friendships. One of his friends revealed Jarren was the only man he could cry in front of without shame. Another said, “I always knew it was ok for me to cry around Jarren. He allowed me to do it because he did it himself.” After his death, flocks of people came to his familial home to express their love, with over six different visitors declaring that Jarren was their best friend.
Jarren was the eldest of six siblings. He was especially close with two of his sisters, Stephanie and Madison, whom he saw daily. He considered their children as his own, attending all of their school events, sports games, and dance recitals. Michael was one of his most treasured friends. They planned on hiking the Appalachian Trail and were constantly camping together. Michael often calls Jarren’s mother, Shannon, to talk about his departed friend and to check in on her.
When Shannon’s motion-activated back porch light turned on, she knew it was her son dropping in. He had a habit of going to his mother’s house unannounced through the back door to surprise his family. But it was not really a surprise because he did it all the time. So, as soon as the back light went on, everyone knew that within seconds Jarren would be in the kitchen, presenting his nieces and nephews with Kinder Joy eggs or lifting everyone’s mood with his smile. He was often at the center of things, with a distinctly bright presence. Two nights after he died, Shannon turned off the back porch light and has never turned it back on.
Jarren was engaged with plans for a spring wedding and hopes for a baby when he and his fiancé Randi died from an overdose. Losing Jarren William DeHate is unfathomable. He was a unique source of sensitivity, warmth, and intimacy for the community surrounding him. He lived life with vigor and joy.
Since his death, his mother sees eagles almost daily and remembers that Migiziinini is still with her.
Shannon Kauppila, Jarren’s mother, provided the information for this narrative
November 20, 1989-January 3, 2024-Age 34
Portrait Artist: Jeremy Hebbel
Narrative Writer: Livia Cohen
