A Construction Suicide

By Thomas LaMay and Brian M Winningham

A Sunday evening in Spring, the day Alberto died…

Emilio Stevens was stunned. Stunned and heartbroken. “Alberto, no! What did you do?!” And angry and lost. Horror spread over his face, “What about Antonia, Albert and Amalie? What are they going to do? Those poor kids and his wife…” Emilio muttered in his one-sided conversation with himself as he paced back and forth in his back yard staring intently at his phone where he had just finished a call. It was a beautiful spring Sunday evening. The breeze had the slightest hints of warmth mixed with currents of cooler air. The whole world seemed to be turning green, with buds gracing the ends of the bare branches of the trees surrounding his home. Emilio could see none of it, not his phone that he stared at or the Spring weather.

An Army Combat Veteran, Emilio was immediately back in Afghanistan, on a specific patrol that had been nothing but a constant firefight that lasted all night long. He remembered how early in the fight Ryan Long from his squad had taken an instantly fatal AK round. There wasn’t time during the fight to mourn, in fact he hadn’t seen it happen, so it didn’t immediately feel real. He had in fact looked for Ryan to his immediate left several times during the fight because that is where he always was. Emilio had even called out to him during the stress of the fight, forgetting that he was gone.

He came back to their base from that patrol both emotionally and physically drained. He collapsed into his bunk in his connex accommodations and was instantly asleep. He woke up sobbing three hours later. In his sleep deprived state, he was extremely worried and didn’t understand what was happening to him. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he was crying or how to stop. His body was grieving, and it didn’t matter if his mind had caught up or not.

Emilio understood what was happening in the here and now and began to control his breathing. He immediately went and sat down on his patio and opened his meditation timer and set it for 10 minutes. He began rhythmically breathing as the background music played softly: Breath in for four seconds, hold for seven seconds, breath slowly out for eight seconds. 4-7-8 was his go to when he needed to center himself, and this definitely qualified. As he finished his meditation, he realized his need for additional self-care to work through this current loss. He should probably even text his therapist about an extra session. “So much to do.” He muttered.

“Alberto, how could you?!” Emilio breathed another deep breath. “No! I won’t do anger either. This is going to take me some time. I have to be ready to deal with the guys in the morning, too. What the hell am I going to tell them? I need some ammunition to make sure I handle this right.”

Emilio was now a Foreman for a Steel Framing and Drywall Trade Contractor and Alberto was an integral part of his crew. As noted, this isn’t the first time Emilio has faced the death of someone close to him and he knew it never got any easier. He thought back to that terrible second deployment when he was a Fire Team Leader in the 82nd Airborne and remembered what it took to keep leading then. He knew because of that experience; he could be the leader his construction crew needed now as they all worked through this loss together.

“Recon first!” Emilio thought as he pulled out his phone and brought up the internet browser and typed in “what do I do about a worker suicide”. He scrolled through seeing lots of links that were just plain strange but one about first aid for mental health caught his eye in particular and he clicked on the link. As he read through the information, he was intrigued but saddened that he hadn’t found this site just a week earlier. Maybe things could have been different. He rejected that thought but still saved the link on his phone. He resolved to look into it further a little later.

Right now, he needed to get in touch with his boss and would probably need to talk to HR during the week to make sure Antonia and the kids got what was coming to them. God this sucked on so many levels.

“There, but for the Grace of God go I…” Emilio whispered knowing how great his demons had been and still could be at times.

---

Early Monday morning the day after Alberto died…

The crew meeting that morning had been like nothing else he had ever had to do. There was quite a bit of anger, some tears, some more anger, and more tears. Construction workers internalize maybe even more than Veterans, but this was hitting the crew hard. Everyone loved Alberto. He was always the first one to step up and help when someone needed a hand. The crew was blaming Alberto, blaming his wife, blaming the GC, and although they didn’t say anything in front of him, Emilio was sure they probably blamed him too. Emilio couldn’t argue with them. He remembered last Friday morning when he had chewed Alberto out for not locking up his ladder at the end of the day Thursday.

Jesse Larsen, an apprentice on their crew was extremely upset. He sat in the dirt next to the connex, his face bright red. He wasn’t crying but his face was blank as he stared into space, shaking his head slowly back and forth.

Emilio squatted down in front of Jesse and said, “I know he was your Journeyman, but we won’t let this impact you. We will put you with someone else. You will work directly for me until we can get a replacement for the crew, okay?”

Jesse looked up, with tears threatening to splash over his eye lids and said in a dead voice, “Alberto gave me his tools on Friday. I shouldn’t have taken them! I thought he was going to get new tools or something. I didn’t know! I should have known! I didn’t know! I didn’t know.” The tears spilled over and ran down his cheeks unnoticed as Emilio pulled him into a hug.

“I should have known too. My last real conversation with him was an ass chewing. I should have seen the signs too, but this is something none of us are trained for. That is going to change though.”

---

Late Friday morning the same week Alberto died…

Antonia looked so broken and bewildered at it all. Emilio felt exactly as she looked. Coming to the funeral was hard. It had rained all the night before but the day dawned cloud-free and glorious. It was hard to contrast the day with how they were going to spend it. He still felt so guilty about his last conversation with Alberto. He could barely meet Antonia’s eyes with his own. He wondered if she blamed him also.

He had held off speaking to her, until finally after the service, stealing his resolve, he approached her. She immediately hugged him around the neck and whispered in his ear, “I am so angry at him right now. How could he leave me alone?!”

“I am so, so sorry! I don’t have the words.” Emilio said as they separated slightly, each holding the other just at arm’s length as they continued to speak.

“He loved you; you know. You and the whole crew. He used to tell me stories about all the goofy things Jesse does on a daily basis, stories about all of you really. He loved the work and being part of your crew. He said you are the best Foreman he ever worked with.” A sad smile crossed Antonia’s face that didn’t reach her eyes. “Alberto suffered from Depression. He never really found a medicine that worked for him. He said they all made him feel weird and sleepy. We think that is probably why he took his life.” She paused, looking away, the tears overflowing her eyelids, sliding down her cheeks. “The note that he left just said ‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’ Oh god I don’t know what I am going to do. I just feel so lost Emilio.”

Tears were streaming down Emilio’s face, as the two of them hugged again. He didn’t have an answer for Antonia and didn’t say anything else as he moved along back to his family and then to their vehicle and then to their home. There were plenty of times when it could have been his wife in this situation instead of Antonia. Emilio understood how blessed he was, but it didn’t dull the pain. That was still as fresh and raw as the chill wind after the rain this morning.

---

Late Wednesday afternoon, two and a half weeks after Alberto died…

The GC had complained bitterly when Emilio told them the whole crew wouldn’t be there on the Friday of Alberto’s funeral. Mitch Jones, the Superintendent, had been on him all week prior to that wanting to know when Alberto’s replacement would be there. The whole bunch ignored the fact that he and the whole crew had all worked overtime to make sure their quotas for the week were met and that they had done everything they could do to remain on schedule.

Emilio hadn’t told the GC how Alberto had died. He didn’t feel like he needed to and besides it wasn’t their business. There were enough crazy rumors floating around the jobsite as it was. Most days it seemed like the jobsite had more drama than any daytime soap opera on television.

Emilio smiled to himself as he was heading to his truck in the parking lot. He was imagining the fit that Mitch threw this morning when Emilio wasn’t at the jobsite. He would call his second, Aurelio Reyes on his way home from his first aid for mental health class that he had attended that day. He really did not care how bent out of shape that Mitch got, because today had totally been worth it. He knew what to look for now and even better, he knew that he could talk to someone in crisis and not be worried about making it worse. He had the tools and the confidence to try. So, he really didn’t care what Mitch thought.

It felt really good that his boss, Kevin Peckham, thought the class a great idea when Emilio brought it to him. It was even better that they picked up the tab for the training. Alberto had been with the company for eighteen years, so Emilio knew that he and his crew weren’t the only ones suffering from this loss. Alberto’s loss was felt company wide, and no one saw it coming. It made a lot of sense to see Kevin’s support for the first aid for mental health training, when Emilio remembered that Alberto had been Kevin’s apprentice all those years ago when Kevin was still a Journeyman carpenter.

---

Tuesday morning, three weeks after Alberto died…

Emilio was just finishing a round through the construction site. He paused by their dumpster, a sense of unease settling over him. The sight of fifteen crumpled energy drink cans overflowing from the bin was unsettling. "Are my guys each having two or three of these to start the day?" he wondered aloud.

Just then, Aurelio Reyes, a journeyman of many years and Emilio’s second in command, emerged from the container, a familiar white can in his hand. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he caught Emilio's gaze.

"Bro, I stopped for gas on the way in and bought three," Aurelio chuckled, taking a swig from the can in his hand. "And you're looking at Number 3 right there."

Emilio raised an eyebrow, a mix of concern and amusement playing on his lips. "Three? Seriously? You're gonna be bouncing off the walls by lunchtime."

"Nah, man," Aurelio replied, his voice a blend of confidence and fatigue. "Gotta keep the engine running. Long commute, even longer day. This is just fuel, boss."

Emilio's gaze shifted back to the overflowing dumpster. Fifteen cans. In one morning. A sense of unease gnawed at him. He recalled the exhaustion he'd seen on his crew's faces lately, the heavy eyelids and slow movements in the early hours. It was a pattern he'd noticed across the team—a cycle of drowsy mornings fueled by caffeine, followed by crashes and irritability as the day wore on. He had attributed most of it to the loss of Alberto, but now he began to wonder…

Aurelio shrugged. "What else are we supposed to do, boss? We need to get this job done."

"Listen, Aurelio," Emilio began, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I know the hours are long, the commutes are brutal, and the food options around here are garbage. But those energy drinks aren't the solution."

Tyrone Bressett, always the most vocal, piped up. “Yeah, I’ve been feeling like a zombie by mid-afternoon. But what can we do? It’s hot as hell out there, and the water truck’s always on the other side of the site.”

A memory surfaced—a scorching desert landscape, an impromptu class in the shade of a Humvee during the always interminable “hurry-up and wait” movements common in every military since time immemorial. His team leader had drilled them on hydration calculations, ensuring every soldier in the squad could calculate how much water they needed for any mission. Emilio remembered checking and double-checking each canteen, knowing dehydration could cripple their effectiveness, and in that environment would most certainly be deadly.

The next morning, Emilio incorporated his thoughts into his morning safety brief for his crew. "Folks, we need to address something important," Emilio began, his voice a steady counterpoint to the anxious energy in the room. "It's about our energy levels, our focus, and ultimately, our safety on this site." He gestured to the crumpled energy drink cans he'd collected from the dumpster. "This is becoming a problem."

A ripple of discontent spread through the crew. Tyrone, usually quick with a joke, crossed his arms defiantly. "What's the big deal, boss? We work hard, we need a little pick-me-up. It's part of the breakfast of champions, right?"

Aurelio chimed in, a hint of defiance in his eyes. "Yeah, and didn't YOU place that order for coffee and energy drinks last week? Seems a little hypocritical to crack down on us now."

Emilio held their gaze, his expression unwavering. He understood their resistance – change was hard, especially when it involved a beloved vice. But he also knew, from his Ranger training, that ignoring a problem wouldn't make it go away. It would only fester and worsen over time.

"You're right, Aurelio," Emilio conceded, "I did place that order. And I'm not denying that those drinks can give a temporary boost. But I'm also seeing the downside: the crashes, the irritability, the lack of focus in the afternoons."

He showed them his clipboard, pointing to the section on safety incidents. "These near-misses we've had lately… they might not seem connected, but I'm starting to wonder if fatigue and sugar crashes are playing a role?" Emilio paused looking at the clipboard for a moment, and then continued. “When I first saw this safety data, my first thought was to wonder if it was because our morale was down because of Alberto’s death. I know that is still close in everyone’s mind and honestly it is really because of him that I am bringing all of this up. After Alberto died, I knew I needed to practice better than normal self-care, or because of my mental health issues I could face a spiral of bad outcomes. I chose to practice self-care, and that means watching what I eat, how I sleep, making sure I get in my meditation time, my family time, and those kinds of things.”

Jesse looked up at Emilio and said, “Is yoga self-care?”

Emilio smiled as the rest of the crew laughed and hooted at Jesse. “Yoga is absolutely self-care Jesse. Are you practicing Yoga?” Emilio asked as the sniggers grew even louder.

Jesse’s face a bright red, he said, “My wife is pregnant, and yoga helps her feel better and sometimes I do it with her. Honestly, I feel better and less sore at work the next day every time I do it.”

Emilio grinned widely. “Then it is definitely self-care, Jesse. If it makes you feel better, you should probably make it a regular part of your workout routine.”

The group grew quiet again as a few heads nodded in reluctant agreement. Tyrone, the grizzled veteran, spoke up while pointing at the crushed can in Emilio’s hand. "I ain't gonna lie, boss, I start my day with one of those bad boys and giving it up won’t be easy.”

Emilio nodded, his voice taking on a graver tone. "I understand this won’t be easy and the new rule will probably be unpopular at first but let me ask you a question. Have any of you noticed yourselves 'zoning out' during the drive home? Or finding it harder and harder to wake up in the mornings?"

Arturo Sato spoke up, with a hint –

of unease in his voice. "Yeah, boss. Happened to me a couple times this week. Scary as hell, looking up and seeing my garage and not being able to remember any of the drive to get from here to there."

Emilio nodded grimly. "That's the vicious cycle we're in, guys. Long hours, tough commutes, maybe a few beers to unwind at night... it all leads to poor sleep. And when we're sleep-deprived, we reach for these," he gestured to the energy drinks, "to prop ourselves up. But it's not sustainable and studies have shown that at high levels they are incredibly bad for your health."

He picked up one of the crumpled cans, turning it in his hands. "Look at this," he said, pointing to the image on the label. "It's Warlord from that video game. A hell of an operator, right? But even Warlord needs to rest, refuel, recharge. We're no different, but, contrary to what they are advertising, these energy drinks don’t provide anything valuable for our bodies, they just try and trick it. Based on that we are going to ban them for our crew as of next Monday. It’s something that is coming down company-wide too in the next few months because of some heat injuries we had on another project that were directly related to these energy drinks. The company will focus more on making sure we have adequate water."

The room fell silent. The men exchanged uneasy glances. They prided themselves on their grit, their ability to push through anything. But Emilio's words had struck a chord, exposing a vulnerability they hadn't acknowledged.

"We can't operate at our best if we're running on fumes," Emilio continued. "We need a plan to break this cycle. It's not just about hydration; it's about sleep, nutrition, and creating a sustainable rhythm for our bodies."

He grabbed another clipboard from behind him and a roll of posters that he had found open source and smiled at the crew. "These handouts and posters which we are going to put up in the connex encourage healthier food options, better sleep habits, and even ways to manage stress that don't involve caffeine overload."

He paused, then added, "This isn't about sacrificing our grit; it's about channeling it in a smarter way. It's about being the best versions of ourselves, both on and off the job site."

A spark of hope flickered in Aurelio's eyes. "Alright, boss," he said, setting his energy drink down. " Do you think the convenience store would maybe swap some of these Warlord cans for some... I don't know, bananas or something?"

Emilio grinned. "Now you're talking. We'll find a balance, Aurelio. But first, who's up for some water?"

---

Early Thursday morning, eight and a half weeks after Alberto died…

Emilio Stevens sensed something was different about this Foreman Meeting and it took him a while to put his finger on it. Something was missing. Carl Richter, the Plumbing Foreman had hardly spoken. Usually, Carl’s banter was the only interesting thing happening during these “meetings”. Mitch Jones, the GC Superintendent, just generally pointed at people without looking at them and read to them what his precious schedule said they should be doing. It didn’t matter that a hundred things changed every day, because construction is dynamic and there is always a new way to install things as long as you don’t ignore the basics of Safer, Easier, Better. Mitch couldn’t see past the paper in front of him.

Carl always had a way of sabotaging these meetings for Mitch, even though often Mitch didn’t even seem to notice. Carl would at times get Mitch so wound up he would go off on a tangent that had nothing to do with the work at hand. Other times he would just get Mitch to talk about fishing which was his all-time favorite pastime. This didn’t happen at every meeting, but it happened enough to be entertaining when it did.

Today’s meeting was different because Carl had been mostly silent, or if not exactly silent, he was quietly muttering as he looked at his text messages every few minutes throughout the long, boring meeting. His usual sly grin was gone as well. Mitch seemed to be ignoring him, which was odd as well. Emilio decided that Carl was definitely preoccupied and from his demeanor and muttering it didn’t appear to be a welcome preoccupation.

Emilio remembered the A from the mnemonic he learned in his first aid training for mental health was to assess the risk. It looked like something could be happening in Carl’s life and Emilio decided to be brave enough to approach him and ask him as the meeting ended.

“Hey Carl, do you have a minute? I have a couple of questions?” Emilio called out just after leaving GC’s conference room from their meeting. “Carl!” he called out slightly louder.

Carl turned around and looked up from his phone where he seemed to be still deep in his texts. “What’s up?” He said with no smile and barely even an acknowledgement.

Emilio paused a second and then said, “You know what brother, that can wait. Is everything okay? You seem to be somewhere else today and that can be a dangerous thing to be on a Construction site.”

“What does that mean?” Carl growled, looked up at him and seemed to see him for the first time today.

Emilio put his hands out calmingly. “It’s not like that. This work is stressful enough just by itself. When life-stuff starts piling on, it can feel… overwhelming is how it gets for me. I lost someone who took their life not too long ago and I made a vow that I won’t stand by and say nothing if I see someone struggling. So, what is going on buddy?” Emilio didn’t know how Carl would react and wasn’t really sure what to expect after this first awkward attempt to help someone who appeared to be in crisis. He knew however that he shouldn’t say anything else, so he just stood there looking at Carl for what felt like an eternity.

“No, things aren’t all right. My life couldn’t be more fucked if I beat it with a pipe wrench.” Carl finally sighed.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee, Carl? How about the place across the street?” Emilio asked. “I’m going to text my number two and line him out while we walk over. This will be good practice for him.” Emilio grinned encouragingly as he moved to make his way toward the coffee shop.

Carl continued to stare at the ground but was walking beside Emilio. That was something, a start.

---

Authors’ Notes:

3rd Stanza Ranger Creed:

Never shall I fail my comrades. I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong, and morally straight, and I will shoulder more than my share of the task, whatever it may be, one hundred percent and then some.

After Action Review:

• The Often-Hidden Struggle of Mental Health: Alberto's suicide highlights the often-hidden nature of mental health struggles, particularly in male-dominated industries like construction. The fact that Alberto was well-liked and seemingly happy emphasizes that depression and suicidal thoughts can affect anyone, regardless of status or appearance. The chapter underscores the importance of recognizing the signs of mental distress and seeking help. Have you seen mental health impacts to you or your coworkers? How did that impact the atmosphere on those particular projects?

•  Impulsive reactions can kill in the high-stress environments inhabited by Military and First Responders. People who can successfully navigate this environment first find safety, then breathe, assess the situation, and then respond with deliberate, well-practiced, and overwhelming action. In the Rangers this is called violence of action. It will carry you through when nothing else can.Techniques like 4-7-8 breathing (breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven seconds, breath slowly out for eight seconds) are the same types of techniques these warriors are taught to help manage the stress of the battlefield and after. A therapist or counselor can often help develop a good action plan to manage your stress. Do you have any special strategies you deliberately use for managing stress?

•  Self-Care is even more important in stressful situations. Be even more purposeful in the way you take care of yourself. Pay attention to what you eat, make sure you exercise, get additional rest, meditate, pray, spend time figuring out how to be your own best friend/advocate/champion. This is the same reason that the airlines ask that everyone put on their own oxygen masks before beginning to help others. We can’t help others until we help ourselves. What are your best self-care strategies?

•  Reinforcement and replenishment on a battlefield save lives. Just as we ask for help in meeting our physical requirements, we shouldn't hesitate to reach out when we're struggling emotionally. Asking for help is a sign of strength, not weakness, and it is crucial for breaking down the stigma surrounding mental health. These are some behaviors that can indicate bad mental health outcomes: Low Self-Esteem, Procrastination, Negative Self-Talk, Avoiding Decisions, Passivity, Feeling Overwhelmed. Are there any others? What coping mechanisms do you use to help alleviate these behaviors? 

• Catalyst for change. What will it take? What drives us to change? Here it took a death… That is much too steep a price to pay! What are the barriers to change where you are? Which ones do you control?

First Aid for Mental Health Resources: 

Learning to recognize the signs of substance use, depression, anxiety, or suicidal thoughts will save lives:

• 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: A 24/7, confidential hotline for anyone in distress.

• The Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741 for free, 24/7 crisis counseling.

• SAMHSA (https://www.samhsa.gov/) A US government clearinghouse of substance use and mental health publications, programs, offices and resources.

• MentalHealth.gov: A comprehensive website with information and resources on mental health conditions and treatment options.

• Man Therapy (https://mantherapy.org/): A website specifically designed for men to access mental health resources in a relatable way.

• Mental Health First Aid (https://www.mentalhealthfirstaid.org/): Mental Health First Aid is an evidence-based, early-intervention course that teaches participants about mental health and substance use challenges.