For most students who study abroad, the semester away is one that changes their life. For Ethan Wattleworth, study abroad was a chance to meet the man who saved his.
Wattleworth was 10 and a fourth grader in his native Gurnee, Ill., when he was diagnosed with severe aplastic anemia, a disorder where the body fails to produce enough blood cells. Without a stem cell transplant, it would be fatal.
Aplastic anemia is extremely rare, afflicting only about 200 to 400 people a year globally, so finding a suitable match can take years—time patients don’t often have.
His name was added to a global registry maintained by bethematch.com. Everyone hoped.
“We were desperate,” he said.
Around the same time, Hannes Weissensteiner was having a beer with a friend in Berlin. The friend had put his name on the same registry and half-jokingly urged Weissensteiner to sign up, too. So he did, thinking it would lead to nothing.
Two weeks later, he was shocked to get a call that he’d matched for a kid in the United States. Soon, he was in a Cologne hospital to make the donation, and his stem cells were on the next flight to Chicago.
“The nurse told me I could save the life of a 10-year-old boy, and I called my wife and started crying,” he said. “That’s not something I normally do.”
Wattleworth’s family was stunned it happened so quickly.
“I realize now how lucky I was,” he said.
The transplant worked and a year later, Wattleworth was back living something close to the normal life of an American kid, going to school and playing football and lacrosse.
He and Weissensteiner started a correspondence after two years of confidentiality and signing waivers.
They exchanged letters and texts. Wattleworth filled him in on his life and later told him he was studying business at the University of Iowa. He thanked him for his sacrifice.
"I survived because of you."
“I still cry a little today about that,” said Weissensteiner. “When I need a pick-me-up, I’ll read some of his letters. He turned out to be a pretty good boy. He jokes that it’s because he has my blood.”
Wattleworth’s experience played a big role in his decision to come to Tippie. First was The Wave, which he looks forward to at every Hawkeye football game because he knows what it’s like to be a sick kid in a children’s hospital not knowing what tomorrow brings. He knows how something as simple as a wave from a crowd can give kids hope.
There’s also CIMBA, Tippie’s study abroad program in Paderno del Grappa, Italy. The small town is only a short drive from Bolzano, the city where Weissensteiner now lives with his family and works in sales, marketing, and digitization for one of Germany’s largest educational providers.
Wattleworth asked: “Was it close enough that they could someday meet?”
Weissensteiner couldn’t say yes fast enough. Wattleworth started his CIMBA program in January 2025 and a few weeks later, they met for the first time.
“It was super emotional,” Wattleworth said. “We embraced with open arms, and it was one of the best moments of my life.”
There would be more meetings. Wattleworth spent some weekends at Weissensteiner’s home. They skied in the Alps and bonded over pizza (it’s Italy, after all). His parents came for a visit. Wattleworth felt like a part of the family.
“He’s not old enough to be my dad, so he’s more like my cool uncle,” Wattleworth said.
He plans to become an on-campus voice for marrow donation during his remaining years at Iowa, telling his story to encourage students, faculty, and staff to sign up as donors, and volunteering at Stead Family Children’s Hospital.
“Anything I can do to help others,” he said.
As for Weissensteiner, he plans to travel to Iowa City for Wattleworth’s commencement ceremony in 2027— something that wouldn’t be possible without his own generosity.
Expect a few tears.
This article appeared in the Fall 2025 issue of Tippie Magazine.
Photos courtesy of Ethan Wattleworth.