Pat Tillman still inspiring millions 22 years after his death in Afghanistan

Pat Tillman still inspiring millions 22 years after his death in Afghanistan By JOHN MARSHALL The Associated Press FILE - Arizona Cardinals safety Pat Tillman celebrates after tackling New Orleans Saints running back Lamar Smith for a loss in the third quarter of an NFL football game, Dec. 20, 1998, in Tempe, Ariz. (AP Photo/Roy Dabner, File) TEMPE, Ariz. (AP) — Pat Tillman lived his life moving forward, delivering huge hits on the football field, chasing knowledge, reaching out to those who most need help, meeting challenges instead of backing away. Tillman’s ideals, the ability to recognize something bigger than himself, still resonate 22 years after his death, a legacy pushing ahead in the millions of people he inspired. “I believe Pat impacted people because he lived his life to its fullest, always setting goals for himself and working hard to attain them,” said Mary Tillman, Pat’s mother. “Pat made mistakes, but he tried to learn from them. He was harder on himself than he was on other people. He was kind and respectful to people he met, and he didn’t take for granted the people who put effort into him.” Tillman’s 50th birthday was Friday. It’s impossible, perhaps even unfair, to project what his life would have been like had he not been killed by friendly fire serving as an Army Ranger in Afghanistan. We can only peer back to project forward. Tillman excelled on the athletic fields of San Jose, California, continued to thrive playing football for Arizona State and the NFL’s Arizona Cardinals. Sports fans admired that part of his life. Tillman’s crossover outside the sports world goes beyond his athletic prowess: unpretentiousness, intellectualism, thoughtfulness, curiosity, a selflessness epitomized by his decision to leave behind a lucrative NFL contract and a new bride to fight for his country in the wake of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. His legacy carries on in the places bearing his name and the people who view his life as a call to action. “We never try to speak for Pat because we don’t know, but I’m sure that he would have been doing something to solve a problem, whatever that problem might be” said Katherine Steele, CEO of the Pat Tillman Foundation. “He showed up for people constantly when he was alive and I’m sure he would have continued to find ways to show up for people if he was still here with us.” Tillman Foundation In the aftermath of Tillman’s death in 2004, his friends and family gathered to celebrate his life. Tillman loved athletic challenges, so they opted to run in his honor. The first Pat’s Run drew 5,000 people. In the wake of that inaugural run, Tillman’s widow, Marie, co-founded the Pat Tillman Foundation. The foundation’s goal is to invest in leadership and, in 2008, it created the Tillman Scholars program to bridge gaps in the GI Bill. Now more than 1,000 members strong, the Tillman Scholars embody their namesake’s pursuit of knowledge and achievement. They are doctors, higher education leaders, scientists, CEOs and entrepreneurs. Adrian Perkins, former mayor of Shreveport, Louisiana, is a Tillman Scholar. So is NASA astronaut Jonathan Kim. “They see a problem and they want to run towards it and try to solve it,” said Steele, also a Tillman scholar. Pat’s Run, the main fundraiser for the Tillman Foundation, further encapsulates Tillman’s impact. The 4.2-mile run/walk — Tillman’s ASU number was 42 — annually draws 30,000 people to Tempe, with an additional 30-plus satellite runs around the country. They come from all walks of life — blind runners, amputees, parents pushing their children in strollers, firefighters in full gear, disabled veterans, out-of-shape people pushing themselves in Tillman’s honor. Tillman Scholars serve as corral leaders, joining the masses for the run that ends inside Arizona State’s football stadium, the spirit of Tillman pushing each one across the finish line. “They come to feel a part of a community of people that lost something, but also to honor his (Tillman’s) story and his legacy,” Tillman Scholar and corral leader Amber Manke said. The statue Jeff Carol Davenport’s New River studio in the hills north of Phoenix is filled with ceramic and wire figures, plates and bowls, a service dog made of clay. Small paint containers sit on a shelf, cups and buckets hold countless brushes and sculpting instruments. At the edge of the large table in the center of the room is a roughly 18-inch figure of a football player in full uniform, Arizona State and 42 across the jersey. Known as a maquette, the figure is a scaled-down version of the bronze statue of Tillman inside Arizona State’s football stadium. Davenport’s original design showed Tillman without a helmet, but Mary Tillman suggested basing the statue on a photo showing the back of her son walking out of the locker room — a photo she uses for Christmas cards. “I’m very happy with it — it turned out nice,” Davenport said. “It was an amazing experience to be involved with someone like Pat.” Tillman tributes crisscross Arizona. The Mike O’Callaghan-Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge above Hoover Dam honors Tillman and the former governor of Nevada. Schools and streets are named after Tillman. Multiple schools have Tillman scholarships. The Pearl Jam song “World Wide Suicide” is, in part, about Tillman. The Arizona Cardinals erected an eight-foot tall Tillman statue near the north gate of State Farm Stadium in 2006. Located in Pat Tillman Freedom Plaza, it depicts Tillman holding his helmet, long hair flowing, mouth open in a yell. The 6-foot-2 statue at Arizona State — after the expected 12% shrinkage — peers onto the playing field inside Mountain America Stadium. Funded by Arizona State alum Arthur Pearce, the Tillman statue draws visitors from around the world and is a rallying point for Sun Devils players, who touch it coming out of the locker room tunnel on game days. “It’s one of those things where the Cardinals and Sun Devils have built statues for him, but it’s not praise, it’s not something uncomfortable,” Arizona State alum Jeff Okrepkie said. “It’s they’re proud that he was a part of what they’re a part of.” My name is Tillman Tillman Okrepkie is a typical 11-year-old, a fifth grader who plays Little League Baseball, travel soccer, loves math and science. His name stands out. “Every now and then people will know he was name after Pat, but it’s more: ‘Oh, that’s a cool name. Is that a family name? Where did that come from?’” said Tillman’s father, Jeff, who lives in Santa Rosa, California. “Then we kind of explain the story.” Alabama is full of Bears and Bryants, named after former Crimson Tide coach Bear Bryant. Texas is loaded with Landrys, after former Dallas Cowboys coach Tom Landry. In Arizona — at least outside of Tucson, home to rival University of Arizona — Tillman is a favorite. Some parents chose Tillman as a first name, others the middle. Untold numbers of kids have been named Patrick. There was even a skateboard-riding Bulldog named Tillman in California. Jeff Okrepkie is an ASU alum who watched Tillman from the stands. Stephanie Okrepkie’s father was an Army sergeant. The name was a perfect fit and Tillman Bruce Okrepkie was born Nov. 10, 2015 — 11 years to the day Stephanie’s father, Michael, was killed in Iraq. In the 11 years since, Tillman Okrepkie has learned about and embraced the man who inspired his name. His room is filled with Pat Tillman jerseys and photos. “When we travel to Arizona, people ask my name and when I say Tillman, they act surprised,” Tillman Okrepkie said. “They congratulate me on having a really good name.” Pat Tillman accelerated through life. The way he lived it keeps pushing his name and legacy forward. ___ See AP’s full NFL coverage here Copyright 2026 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission.