Chad Blow Death: It is with heavy hearts and tear-filled eyes that we bid farewell to our beloved friend, brother, and cherished member of the Topeka community—Chad Blow. His passing leaves an emptiness that words can hardly fill. To those who knew him, Chad was more than just a man—he was a presence. Strong, steady, loyal, and kind, he stood as a pillar of support to those lucky enough to be part of his world.
For me personally, saying goodbye to Chad has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. He wasn’t just a best friend—he was my brother. Not by blood, but by bond. We met in a way only fate can orchestrate, drawn together by the shared weight and resilience of our military service, and that connection became something sacred. Chad was my in-person Vet therapy when I needed it most, a quiet but unshakable force who listened, understood, and never judged.
Through the years, we shared countless stories, moments of raw emotion, and unforgettable memories. There wasn’t a single conversation that didn’t end in laughter, a single meet-up that didn’t leave my soul lighter. We didn’t need to say much to understand each other—our friendship was built on something deeper. He knew what it meant to carry the weight of the world silently, and he helped me shoulder mine with quiet strength and unwavering loyalty.
I will miss so much about Chad—our long chats, our legendary bag games, the jokes only we understood, and the heartfelt moments we often stumbled into when words just seemed to spill out. But what I’ll miss most of all are the hunts. Our time out in the woods, breathing in the silence, moving with purpose and reverence—that was our sanctuary. Hunting wasn’t just a pastime for us; it was a ritual, a way to reconnect with nature and with each other. Every shot, every shared silence, every sunrise seen through camo and scope—we were at peace out there. And now, every time I head out into the field, it will be for you, my brother.
Chad embodied what it meant to be honorable. As a veteran, he served his country with dignity and courage, carrying the values of that service into his everyday life. He never sought the spotlight, never needed praise—he just did what was right, no matter the cost. He was a protector, not only in uniform but always. His love for his family, his friends, and his community was quiet but fierce.
To Chad’s family, I want you to know how deeply he was loved and admired. His kindness touched everyone who met him. His loyalty, his grit, his sense of humor—those were gifts he gave freely, and they changed lives. He may be gone from this earth, but his legacy is etched in the hearts of all who knew him. In every story told around a fire, every laugh shared in memory, every hunting trip taken in his honor—he will be there.
To our group of friends, I know this hurts. We’ve lost a part of ourselves, and the world feels a little colder without Chad in it. But if he were here, he’d tell us to keep going, to keep laughing, to keep living fully. He’d want us to hold each other up, the way he always held us up, even when we didn’t realize we needed it.
Chad Blow wasn’t just a beloved resident of Topeka—he was a cornerstone of strength and compassion in our lives. He leaves behind a legacy of honor, love, and quiet heroism that we will carry forward. Rest easy, my brother. Your mission is complete, your duty fulfilled. May peace be with you, and may the winds always be at your back.
Until we meet again, this next hunt is for you.
With all the love and respect in the world—
Your forever friend and brother in life and in arms.
