He Was Given Six Months to Live. He Spent His Final Months Finding a Home for His Autistic Son
When Jeon Gyeong-cheol was told he had terminal liver cancer, doctors gave him a devastating estimate: he might have only about six months left.
For most people, such a diagnosis would immediately turn their attention inward.
There would be medical decisions to make, unfinished personal matters to resolve, family members to say goodbye to, and perhaps a desperate desire to spend whatever time remained doing the things they loved most.
But Jeon had another question that was even more urgent.
What would happen to his son when he was gone?
His son, Je-won, was an adult with severe autism who had required intensive support throughout his life. Jeon had spent more than two decades raising him, largely on his own after his marriage ended. He had become not simply his father, but his primary caregiver, protector and the person who understood his daily needs better than anyone else.
Jeon affectionately called his son “Peter Pan,” inspired by the fictional boy who never grows up.
And when Jeon learned that his own life was coming to an end, he became consumed by a fear that many families caring for people with profound developmental disabilities quietly carry:
Who will take care of my child after I am gone?
Instead of spending his remaining time preparing for his own death, Jeon began a nationwide search for somewhere his son could live safely.
He contacted care facilities.
He visited welfare centers.
He asked about residential programs.
He kept searching even when his health deteriorated.
According to Korean reports, he reached out to nearly 1,000 facilities, only to encounter repeated refusals or situations in which his son could not remain permanently.
What began as one father's desperate search eventually became something much larger.
His story reached television audiences across South Korea. Readers followed his writing online. Donations poured in. A book was published. Plans for a foundation emerged.
And, most importantly, Je-won eventually found a stable home at Hope Green Village in Jecheon, North Chungcheong Province.
On September 5, 2026, Jeon Gyeong-cheol died.
He was 63, according to Yonhap and other Korean reports.
But before he left this world, he had accomplished the one thing that mattered most to him.
He had made sure his son would not be left without a home.
A Father and His “Peter Pan”
Jeon's relationship with his son was at the center of everything he did.
Je-won was diagnosed with severe autism in 2007. After Jeon's divorce, he raised his son for more than 20 years, taking on the responsibilities of a parent and full-time caregiver. Korean media reported that Jeon described his son's developmental level as being roughly comparable to that of a two- or three-year-old.
Rather than viewing his son simply through the language of disability, Jeon gave him a nickname filled with affection.
Peter Pan.
In J.M. Barrie's famous story, Peter Pan is the boy who never grows up and remains forever in Neverland.
For Jeon, the nickname reflected his perception of his son's developmental state and, perhaps more importantly, the way he continued to see him—as the child he had spent his life protecting.
Jeon's son was an adult by chronological age, but his need for support had not disappeared simply because he had grown older.
That presented Jeon with a difficult reality.
Parents often spend years imagining how they will care for their children.
They think about school.
They think about friendships.
They think about jobs.
They think about independence.
But for families caring for someone with profound developmental disabilities, the question of independence can be much more complicated.
Some adults may never be able to live independently.
Some require assistance with communication, daily routines, personal care or safety.
And when their parents become elderly or die, the question of who takes over that responsibility becomes enormous.
For Jeon, that future suddenly became immediate.
Then Came the Diagnosis
In April 2025, Jeon was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer.
Reports said he was initially given approximately six months to live.
The diagnosis changed the meaning of time.
Every ordinary day became precious.
But rather than using his remaining months simply to rest or focus on himself, Jeon began searching for a permanent or stable living arrangement for his son.
He had one goal:
Find somewhere Je-won could live safely after his father was no longer there.
That sounds simple.
It was anything but.
Jeon soon discovered how difficult it could be to find appropriate residential support for an adult with severe autism.
He contacted facilities across South Korea.
Again and again, he encountered barriers.
Some facilities could not accommodate his son's level of disability.
Others did not have the appropriate programs.
There were also situations in which admission was possible only temporarily, meaning that the problem would eventually return.