Derek Haskin shares aftermath experience after hitting Jonathan Brown with vehicle

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Photo: Rebekka Brown/Iowa State Daily

Derek Haskin, senior in pre-business, talks about life since the accident involving Jonathan Brown, including frustrations, doctor visits and questions with unknown answers.

Kaitlin York

Derek Haskin felt the windshield shatter. The glass landed in his lap. His first instinct told him to stop and scream for someone to call 911.  

The Oct. 2 ISU football game vs. Texas Tech had just ended when Haskin, senior in pre-business, was on his way to work at Reimen Gardens.

He drove westbound on South 16th Street when two people appeared to have come out of no where. Haskin said he attempted to swerve and miss the people.

He didn’t know this moment would change his life.

“I tried to look for [who I hit] and couldn’t find him,” Haskin said. “Someone was screaming out his name while looking for him, too.”

The eerie calmness of Haskin’s surroundings were followed by the sirens of police cars and an ambulance.

Approximately six people surrounded what was later discovered to be ISU student Jonathan Brown.

No one was screaming anymore nor was anyone hysterical.

Calm was the only word to describe the scene.

“It was the most eerie sensation,” Haskin said. “When he hit the windshield, my stomach just dropped. Especially having the glass fall on you … you begin to realize how serious it is.”

Haskin was immediately placed in the back of the police car for approximately 2.5 hours while traffic investigators were working on the scene. During these long hours all Haskin knew was the person he hit was breathing and of an airlift coming for the person.

“I didn’t know how he was, if I was going to be facing criminal charges; I didn’t know anything at all. I didn’t know what happens next. I still don’t,” Haskin said. “I went home that night and just cried.”

Everything felt unreal for Haskin, but he still didn’t know the details of the situation.

“Honestly, I thought I had hit a child until three days later when the Dean of Students Office told me it had been a student — and that killed me,” Haskin said.

Haskin learned the person he hit was Brown, and found a blog that the family members of Brown were updating consistently on his status in the hospital.

Haskin serves in the Army and had to report the accident to his unit. He was to keep them updated on Jonathan’s condition, and relied on the blog for updates.

After two anxious days of following the family blog, Haskin found out that Brown was pronounced brain dead and passed away.

“I knew something was wrong when 10 hours passed and there was no update,” he said. “You have no idea how unreal it is. I couldn’t begin to imagine what his family was going through, but in the same aspect I don’t even know what I’m going through.”

Haskin said he wishes he knew how to get through this situation. The day after Jonathan’s death the university reached out and offered counseling services to Haskin.

“For some people it helps to talk, but for me it might help if I just had some space, I suppose,” he said. “Having someone there helps but it’s like putting a Band-Aid on a hemorrhage — it’s not going to stop it but it will help.” 

Haskin hasn’t returned to his classes since the accident. He tried going to one, but he said his mind was going in several different directions.

“In my class there is a student who is an officer that was working the scene that night. He was kind of my support system at the time, but that was the day it must have been in the paper and all I could think about was what did my classmates think of me? What do my professors think?” Haskin said.

It got to be too hard for Haskin and he hasn’t returned since.

Haskin’s life for the past two weeks “has been a question mark” for him.

“It has been a constant case of anxiety. I have not had any straight answer until today,” Haskin said. “The fact that you can’t put any order to some chaos is the worst feeling that anyone would want to be in. You want answers, your family wants answers, the university wants answers but no one has them.”

Haskin said he spent one night pacing through his living room. He couldn’t decided if he should sit down and do homework, or dwell on what happened. 

“You can’t sleep. You can’t eat. It’s hard,” he said.

“I’ve written a letter to his family, my family has written a letter to them also. I haven’t heard from them and I have no idea how they feel,” Haskin said.

The first and only person Haskin told about the accident at first was his roommate. He called his parents to tell them something happened, but he didn’t go in-depth for a few days.

“You’re in a state of panic and chaos,” Haskin said. “It’s still so unreal that even telling someone about it doesn’t help.”

“Even though Jonathan’s death is an answer in a sense, it’s like stitching a hole in your heart that is still empty. He has passed on and there was closure but it’s not the answer. There is a resolution — he isn’t in pain anymore, but there’s still a gap there,” Haskin said.

Haskin said in Army training, soldiers are taught to not be phased by death. In some situations, some people come back from death incidents with post traumatic stress disorder.

“I hope I don’t become one of those people and I won’t forget Jonathan,” Haskin said. “This is something I didn’t ask for but nonetheless I’m apart of it. I will always keep Jonathan with me.”

Haskin plans to stay at Iowa State and, so far, his professors have been understanding.

“The only thing I can do for my future is let it change me for the better, and not let the remorse and ‘What if?’ take control of me,” Haskin said.

“I read about how Jonathan was a very religious person and the two ultimate questions I have are why did this happen to such a good person and why me?” Haskin said. “Those are the questions I will always live with, it’s just something that doesn’t leave you.”

Haskin was sick to his stomach when he saw the damage done to his vehicle. He wasn’t able to see it until Wednesday and had to drive it from the impound lot to the repair shop.

The drive was nothing less than nauseating.

“Every time I see someone walk across the road or walk around campus I get an anxiety attack. Part of me wonders when this is going to end,” Haskin said.

This loss has put reality into perspective for Haskin.

“I think about it everyday and I still will. I never met Jonathan but from what it sounds like he would have wanted something good to come out of this,” Haskin said.

Haskin thought something like this would never happen to him.

“I am not getting through this. But I know that superficially I have to because the world doesn’t stop for me and it doesn’t stop for situations like this,” he said. “Life will go on and my emotions will eventually catch up.”