Khayree Duckett is a Mount Pleasant, Iowa native with ties to Republican campaigns and elected officials. He does advocacy work with a national developer, owner, and manager of affordable housing and lives in Carrollton, Texas with his wife and son.
One byproduct of our polarized and fragmented public discourse is that public service rarely produces “giants” of bipartisan acclaim. There was a time when figures like U.S. Senator Bob Dole and U.S. House Speaker Tip O’Neill—partisans to their core—were still respected across the aisle as leaders who could bridge divides.
That era is fading, but Dave Heaton was one of its last practitioners, a statesman who understood that effective governance requires both conviction and compromise.
With his passing this month, Mount Pleasant lost one of its best, and I have lost one of my idols. When describing my high school years, I often joke that I didn’t play football, but I got to practice with the team. As a dorky teenager, politics was my passion instead, and Dave was my mentor from an early age, guiding me as I first got involved—going all the way back to middle school.
On numerous occasions, Dave and I would sit at Dickey’s while he humored my thoughts and opinions on things I knew so little about. We would spend an entire Saturday morning in these discussions while he drank black coffee, and I imagine he held back a few laughs as he watched me attempt to do the same.
A few years later, when I clerked for legislators at the statehouse while attending Iowa State, Dave and I would sit at his desk in the front row of the House chamber and pick up many of those same conversations. I hadn’t learned much more by then, but I took great comfort in knowing that Dave seemed to share many of my sentiments as we watched Republicans gain the trifecta in 2017.
Iowa’s General Assembly no longer reflected the state that had twice propelled Barack Obama to the presidency by comfortable margins. The priorities had shifted to generational transformations—public employee collective bargaining overhauled, restrictions on abortion access, and new limits on workers’ compensation and medical malpractice lawsuits. It was clear that the Iowa GOP was going to move fast and break things. And in the years since, it has become clear that the state may never be the same.
We supported parts of the Iowa GOP agenda and opposed others. And while it had been my heart’s desire to succeed Dave in the statehouse—because I believed in the kind of responsible conservatism he championed—I came to realize that his style of leadership was increasingly rare in his own caucus.
More and more, he found himself outgunned, and from my conversations with him, I sensed that he wasn’t enjoying the work as much as he once had. Unlike many of his colleagues, he believed conservatism meant steady, thoughtful governance—winning by bringing people together and ensuring that all changes were incremental and, above all, mindful of unintended consequences.
This belief wasn’t just rhetorical—it was central to his public service. As chair of the Iowa House Health and Human Services Appropriations Subcommittee, Dave was a champion for those often left behind in policy debates. Whether it was expanding mental health services, improving care for people with disabilities, or protecting critical health care programs, he understood that while a government’s effectiveness wasn’t measured solely by how it treated its most vulnerable, any responsible governance had to account for their needs. And his commitment didn’t stop when he left office—he continued to support many of these same organizations after his retirement, staying engaged with the causes he had fought for in the legislature. His work wasn’t just about policy; it was about people.
As Dave approached retirement, my own life was moving forward too. I met and married the love of my life and have since moved halfway across the country. Yet public service and Mount Pleasant remain close to my heart because of Dave’s example. He embodied a kind of leadership that seems increasingly rare: he understood that politics was never about grandstanding but about problem-solving—about making life a little better for the people who entrusted you with their vote.
In a political culture where ideological purity and performative outrage too often overshadow meaningful governance, Dave Heaton’s leadership, wisdom, and, above all, his kindness will be sorely missed. I hope that one day, the values he embodied—pragmatism, compassion, and modesty—once again define our politics.
Top photo of State Representative Dave Heaton in the Iowa House chamber was provided by the Heaton family and published with permission.
Dave Heaton’s obituary includes details on the visitation and funeral planned for February 28 and March 1 in Mount Pleasant. It notes, “Memorial funds have been established for St. Alphonsus Vincent de Paul fund which exists to provide assistance to members of our Mount Pleasant community who may find themselves in financial hardship; as well as Mount Pleasant Kiwanis for projects benefiting local children.”