Why did we start Dead Dads?

Scott and I didn’t start Dead Dads because we thought the world needed another podcast.

We started it because we couldn’t find the conversation we were looking for.

We both lost our dads. And then life kept going like it hadn’t noticed. Work emails still came in. Kids still needed breakfast. People still asked, “How are you doing?” in that way where you know they don’t actually want the real answer.

What we noticed almost immediately was how quiet it all got.

Lots of people are kind when your dad dies. Cards. Texts. “Let me know if you need anything.” And then, after a while, the support fades. Not because people don’t care, but because grief makes everyone uncomfortable. Especially when it’s men talking to other men.

Scott and I kept having these side conversations. The ones that happen after everyone else has left the room. Talking about the weird stuff. The admin. The moments that made us laugh and then feel guilty for laughing. The sudden realization that there’s no one left to call for certain questions.

We also realized how little space there is for men to talk honestly about losing a father without it turning into advice, therapy speak, or forced optimism. Sometimes you don’t want answers. You just want to hear someone say, “Yeah, that part sucked for me too.”

So we decided to record those conversations.

Not as experts. Not as guides. Just two guys trying to make sense of what happened and what comes after. Some episodes are heavy. Some are uncomfortable. Some are funnier than we expected. All of them are real.

Dead Dads isn’t about fixing grief. It’s about naming it. About saying the quiet parts out loud so other guys don’t feel like they’re losing their minds in isolation.

If you’ve lost your dad, this podcast is for you.
If you know someone who has, it might help you understand what they’re carrying.

We started this show because we needed it.
If it helps someone else feel less alone, that’s more than enough reason to keep going.

(PS: this is my dad, Ken)