Construction workers die by suicide at four times the national average.
I've lost people in this industry. You probably have too.
This week on The Edge Podcast, I sat down with Dr. Vince Hafeli. He's the president of Ajax Paving Industries of Florida. Forty years in the business. Eleven-time Ironman finisher. And in 2007, he nearly took his own life.
He kept it secret for 17 years because he thought it would end his career.
He was wrong. When he finally told his boss, the response wasn't what he expected. "That was powerful. I'm very proud of you."
Since then, Vince has given over 112 talks on mental health in construction. His message is simple.
You don't need a psychology degree. You need to notice when something changes.
The guy who's been 10 minutes early for five years is suddenly 15 minutes late. The woman who eats lunch with the crew every day now stays at her desk alone. The foreman who's always joking around goes quiet.
That doesn't mean they're suicidal. It means something's different. And that's when you walk over and ask: "Hey, what's going on?"
Most of the time there's a simple explanation. Sometimes that conversation saves a life.
If you think someone's in real trouble, Vince says you have to go direct:
These questions feel uncomfortable. Ask them anyway. Asking doesn't plant the idea. It opens the door for someone to get help.
Vince's advice for leaders who want to start somewhere:
Here's what nobody talks about: This is a competitive advantage.
Vince told competitors at a conference: "If you don't change your culture, I'm going to start hiring your people that want to come work here."
They listened. And their people stopped leaving for Ajax.
Labor is the constraint in this industry. Culture is the moat. Mental health support is how you build it.
When we sold Barriere, I couldn't even stand at the jobsite for the announcement. I had to leave. I'd spent my entire adult life preparing to run that company. It was my identity. When it went away, I didn't know who I was.
I cried myself to sleep for six months leading up to the sale. Afterwards was worse. I thought about jumping off buildings constantly. My fear of heights, already bad, became unbearable. I felt like I'd failed my family, failed everyone who'd ever worked there, failed the legacy my great-grandfather started.
I left my job after three months. Drove to Durango, Colorado. Deep depression. One night I walked outside the cabin I was staying in. The sky was impossibly clear. A ray of moonlight hit the ground in front of me and I felt - I don't know how else to say this - that God was telling me it would be okay.
I've done a lot of work since then. Therapy. Meditation. Running 100 miles at a time. Building Edgevanta. Getting to the root of why I was so afraid to fail.
I'm still doing the work. But I'm here. And I'm glad I stayed.
If you're in that dark place right now - it won't feel like this forever. Walk outside. Look up. Keep going.
Just be a good human who pays attention.
Thanks to Vince for his courage. And thanks to you for reading this week.