They took a tragedy and asked: what good can we build?
In Westville, New Jersey, a family who lost two sons to a drunk driver's recklessness has answered grief not with silence, but with construction — building a playground where children with disabilities can move freely in the brothers' names. The Gaudreau family, whose sons Johnny and Matthew were killed while cycling in August 2024, channeled community mourning into something a child can touch and climb and laugh upon. It is a quiet but profound act: transforming the irreversible into the enduring, and attaching two names not only to loss, but to joy.
- In August 2024, NHL player Johnny Gaudreau and his brother Matthew were struck and killed by an alleged drunk driver while riding bicycles in New Jersey, leaving a family and a sport in sudden, devastating grief.
- Rather than retreat inward, the Gaudreau family launched an annual 5K race in the brothers' honor, turning collective mourning into a fundraising engine with real, measurable purpose.
- Two races and a community of volunteers later, 98% of the funds needed were raised to build The Gaudreau Brothers' Wings of Hope & Chrysalis Corner — an adaptive playground at Archbishop Damiano School, a place long tied to the family.
- The legal reckoning continues in parallel: the accused driver faces six charges including two counts of first-degree aggravated manslaughter, with a court date approaching in mid-June.
- At the Milan Olympics, the U.S. Men's Hockey team won gold and honored Gaudreau by holding his No. 13 jersey — a reminder that absence does not erase belonging.
- The playground now stands as a living memorial — not a monument to be observed, but a space where children with disabilities play freely, carrying the brothers' names into every ordinary moment of laughter and movement.
On a spring day in Westville, New Jersey, the Gaudreau family unveiled a playground built in the names of two brothers they lost. The structure — The Gaudreau Brothers' Wings of Hope & Chrysalis Corner — sits at Archbishop Damiano School, a place long woven into the family's life. It was built almost entirely through funds raised by an annual 5K race held in the brothers' memory, with the remaining work completed by community volunteers.
Johnny Gaudreau had spent nearly a decade with the Calgary Flames before joining the Columbus Blue Jackets. His brother Matthew had played alongside him at Boston College, then competed in the AHL and ECHL. In August 2024, both were killed while cycling in New Jersey, struck by a driver who was allegedly intoxicated. The loss was sudden and absolute.
What followed was not paralysis, but purpose. The family's 5K — held twice now — raised 98 percent of what was needed to build the playground, designed specifically for children with disabilities. When the sign bearing the brothers' names was unveiled, their mother Jane spoke of how proud she was, and how she imagined how excited Johnny and Matthew would have been to see it.
The legal proceedings continue. The accused driver, Sean M. Higgins, faces six charges including two counts of first-degree aggravated manslaughter. A motion to dismiss some charges was denied last month, and his next court date falls in mid-June.
The brothers' memory has also traveled further. At the Milan Olympics, the U.S. Men's Hockey team — a roster Johnny would likely have made — won gold and posed holding his No. 13 jersey, his children beside them. It was a gesture of inclusion across absence.
The playground is a different kind of memorial. It is not a plaque meant to be observed from a distance — it is a place where children come to play, where the Gaudreau name is bound not only to grief, but to access, inclusion, and the ordinary joy of movement. The family asked what good could be built from the unbearable. The answer stands in Westville, open to every child who needs it.
On a spring day in Westville, New Jersey, the Gaudreau family stood before a new playground built in the names of two brothers they lost. The structure—called The Gaudreau Brothers' Wings of Hope & Chrysalis Corner—sits at Archbishop Damiano School, a place woven into the family's history for years. It exists because of a 5K race held in their memory, and because a community decided to build something that would let children with special needs play freely.
Johnny Gaudreau was an NHL player, most recently with the Columbus Blue Jackets, though he had spent nearly a decade with the Calgary Flames before that. His brother Matthew had played college hockey at Boston College alongside him, then went on to compete in the AHL and ECHL. In August 2024, both were killed while riding bicycles in New Jersey, struck by a driver who was allegedly intoxicated. The loss was sudden and absolute.
What followed was not paralysis, but purpose. The family created an annual 5K to honor the brothers and to channel grief into something tangible. The first race happened last year. The second took place just last month. Together, these events raised 98 percent of the funds needed to build the playground. The remaining work was completed through community volunteers who came together to construct it.
When the sign bearing the brothers' names was unveiled, Jane Gaudreau, the boys' mother, found herself thinking about how excited Johnny and Matthew would have been to see it. "This school has been part of our family for so long," she said. "I'm so proud that the playground is named in honor of them." The playground is designed specifically for children with disabilities—equipment and spaces that allow them to play with the same freedom and joy that other children take for granted.
The tragedy has not ended in the courts. Sean M. Higgins, the man accused of driving drunk and striking the brothers, faces six charges, including two counts of first-degree aggravated manslaughter. A motion to dismiss some of those charges was denied last month. His next court appearance is scheduled for mid-June.
Meanwhile, the brothers' memory has reached beyond New Jersey. Earlier this year, at the Olympic Games in Milan, the U.S. Men's Hockey team—a roster Johnny Gaudreau would likely have made—won gold. After the game, the team posed for photographs holding a No. 13 jersey and standing with Gaudreau's children. It was a moment of recognition, a way of saying that even in absence, the brothers remain part of the story.
The playground stands now as a different kind of memorial. It is not a statue or a plaque meant only to be observed. It is a place where children come to play, where the Gaudreau name is attached not to loss, but to access, to inclusion, to the ordinary joy of movement and laughter. The family has taken an unbearable tragedy and asked: what good can we build from this? The answer is visible in Westville, in the equipment and the open space, in every child who uses it.
Citas Notables
When the sign was unveiled, all I kept thinking about was the boys, how they would be so excited to see this. This school has been part of our family for so long.— Jane Gaudreau, mother of Johnny and Matthew
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did the family choose to build a playground for children with special needs, specifically? That's a very particular choice.
I think it speaks to what mattered to them. The school had been part of their family for a long time. And when you're grieving, you don't just want to memorialize—you want to create something that serves people, that does work in the world. A playground for kids with disabilities is functional. It's not passive.
The 5K raised 98 percent of the funds. That's oddly specific. What does that tell us?
It tells us the community showed up, but the family didn't expect to be carried entirely. They did the work themselves. That last two percent—the community build—that's the part where people came with their hands and their time. It's collaborative grief, if that makes sense.
The mother said the boys would have been excited to see it. Do you think she's right?
I think she knows her sons. And I think there's something true about that—that people who are generous in life, who show up for others, would want their names attached to something that helps people. It's not a guess. It's a reflection of who they were.
The legal case is still ongoing. Does that shadow the playground?
It exists alongside it. The playground is what the family built. The trial is what the legal system is processing. Both are real. One doesn't erase the other.