Eighteen years ago, Chris made a choice that would alter the course of his life. He was unfaithful
to his wife—and when the truth came out, the weight of that decision crushed him. Overcome
with guilt and shame, Chris did something he had never done before. He turned to alcohol.
What began as an attempt to numb emotional pain quickly became something far more
destructive.
At first, Chris managed to hold things together during the week. He continued building homes,
showing up for work, maintaining the outward appearance of stability. But when the weekends
came, the pain he had buried would resurface—and so would the drinking. What started as a
coping mechanism escalated into consuming up to two gallons of vodka over a single weekend.
Mondays and Tuesdays were spent recovering, physically and emotionally, just to repeat the
cycle again.
“I was a closet drinker,” Chris later admitted. “I lied to everyone—my family, my friends, even
myself.”
The consequences reached far beyond him. His children, still young at the time, were often
caught in the crossfire of his addiction. On weekends when they were supposed to be with their
dad, Chris would drink until he passed out. His parents would have to step in, picking up the
pieces and caring for his children. Vacations were ruined. Memories were tainted. The man Chris
once was began to disappear.
As his addiction deepened, so did the fallout. He began gambling. He received two DUIs. He lost
his driver’s license and was forced to navigate running his construction business without the
ability to drive. Everything in his life became harder—and yet, the drinking continued.
Finally, after one especially destructive weekend, Chris’s wife, Lindee, decided she could not
stand by any longer. She organized an intervention and took him to a detox center.
But the first attempt didn’t stick.
The environment felt cold and unwelcoming. Chris couldn’t see how it would help him. Within a
short time, he left, got an Uber to a liquor store, checked into a hotel, and began drinking again.
It could have ended there.
But the people who loved him refused to give up. They found him, reached him, and convinced
him to try again.
This time was different.
Two weeks into rehab, Chris experienced a turning point that would change everything. A
counselor helped him see a truth he had been avoiding: until he addressed the why behind his
drinking, nothing would truly change.
For Chris, that “why” was clear. It was the unresolved guilt from his unfaithfulness. It was the
pain he had caused his ex-wife. It was the damage done to his children.
And for the first time, instead of running from that pain, he chose to face it.
Chris made a decision—one that would define the rest of his life. He committed to becoming the
best father he could be, a supportive and respectful ex-husband, and a devoted husband to his
wife. He began making amends in tangible ways, even choosing to financially support his ex-
wife beyond what was required, as an act of accountability and healing.
“Since that change of mind,” Chris said, “I have never even thought of drinking again.”
Recovery didn’t just restore Chris—it reshaped him.
He found strength in faith, spending more time in prayer than ever before. He leaned on
compassionate religious leaders who guided him without judgment. And he discovered firsthand
how powerful the right recovery environment could be.
That experience planted a seed.
At the time Chris entered rehab, he had been building a home for Mike and Julie Dee. Through
shared experiences of addiction and recovery, Chris and Julie formed a connection. So when Mike
later reached out to share the vision for Hope River Ranch, Chris didn’t hesitate.
He and his wife were all in.
“We know rehab works,” Chris said. “We’ve lived it.”
Today, Chris is not just building structures—he’s helping build a place of healing. Hope River
Ranch represents everything he believes recovery should be: compassionate, purposeful, and
grounded in an environment that fosters real change.
He knows what it feels like to hit rock bottom. He knows what it takes to climb out. And now,
he’s committed to helping others do the same.
Chris often reflects on the journey that brought him here—with deep gratitude for God, and
above all his wife,. She endured so much during that time and never stopped encouraging me to
seek help for my addiction.
“I have never prayed so much as I did in rehab,” he says. “And I’ve never been more grateful for
the life I have now.”
Hope River Ranch is more than a project to Chris. It’s personal. It’s a second chance—his, and
soon, many others’.
