An Alcoholic’s Relapse Led to His Death

He deserved a second chance, so I hired him

When I met Michael,* he was a volunteer and I was a manager at a nonprofit. He was my age, but his deeply lined face and emaciated body hinted at battles I knew nothing about.

I was always surprised to hear his voice, deep and resonant, emanating from such a waspish frame. He was stronger than he looked. When I needed something lifted or loaded, he was up to the task and could handle more work than men twice his size.

But I knew something was “off.” He had secrets. When he applied for a paying job, I called his references and got positive but mysterious endorsements.

“He had a great career with us. Good to hear he’s back on his feet.”

“He worked here for 20 years, but he had problems. I’m happy to hear he’s working again.”

“I’m glad you’re giving him a chance.”

He had been successful and well-liked, at one time. What happened to ruin it?

Michael never mentioned a family. He was a long way from the place he had been born, and he didn’t seem to have friends. But he volunteered for every shift at the nonprofit and didn’t mind staying late. When I needed something done, he was always available.

I asked him what happened with his previous career, and he told me. “I’m an alcoholic. I had a great career in management, but I screwed up and I’ve been out of work for 10 years. But I go to AA. I’m three years sober. Give me a chance, and I won’t let you down.”

I hired him, and for a while, it seemed like a good decision. Michael was a great asset. He became indispensable on the loading dock, where food and furniture donations poured in, and when he asked me if he could pick up an extra shift as a cashier in our nonprofit’s thrift store, I said yes.

Not everybody agreed with my decision. One of the other managers warned me about hiring him for the cash register. But it worked out well, and he eventually picked up two more shifts. When another employee didn’t show up for work, Michael was ready and willing to cover for them.

He earned enough money to move into a better apartment. It was only then that I found out he had been living in a rat-infested place with the utilities cut off.

“This job’s been a lifesaver,” he told me more than once.

But after a few months, something changed. Michael became snappish and erratic. Once when I asked him to do something, he said, “I’ve got something else to do right now. Quit bossing me.”

This was unlike him, and I let it go until others started complaining. “Michael lashed out at a donor today,” one of my volunteers said.

Michael started arriving late for work, and more complaints poured him. I suspected he was drinking again. Another employee confirmed it when she told me she smelled alcohol on Michael’s breath.

I called him into my office, along with two witnesses, and gave him a warning letter documenting his erratic behavior. I said I knew he had relapsed, but would give him one more chance. If he ever came to work under the influence of alcohol again, he would be fired on the spot.

Michael gave me his word, and he lived up to it. He didn’t have an alcohol problem again, for as long as we worked together. He became a model employee again. Everyone sang his praises, and I gave him a raise. When I retired, he was still a stable, contributing employee.

But I discovered a year after my retirement that he had relapsed again and the new manager had fired him. A year after that, he died alone and mired in poverty.

Michael had so much potential, and he squandered his life because of his addiction to alcohol.

What a waste. I wish I could have done more.

• The name has been changed for privacy