Micahel Ruch
tells of life without
God and how one
man’s compassion
saved his life

By Misti Drew
Tribune-Courier Reporter
mdrew@tribunecourier.com

BENTON – Michael Ruch grew up in Portsmith, Ohio. He was a quiet child who, as a boy, remembers feeling very small and alone in such a big world. A series of tragic events would ripple through his life one after the other, leaving Ruch to feel very angry with the world and with God.

Today, with deep blue-eyes, peering through silver-rimmed glasses, he recalls the hurt and disgust of being molested at just eight years of age.

“I felt as if I had done something wrong. I thought maybe I was gay or that his actions made me something I wasn’t. I didn’t know who I was,” Ruch said while running his fingers through his long brown hair.

And then, at 13, Ruch remembers learning that the man who had raised him since he was an infant was not actually his father.

Ruch said to this day, because of the circumstances involved, he is still not certain of who his real father is. But he maintains he and his family have worked to keep a strong bond, despite the heartache and grief.

At the age of 15, Ruch discovered alcohol and drugs and turned to those new companions to help ease the pain.

“I felt different and dirty,” he recalls. “I felt like everyone in the world knew what had happened to me, but the truth was, no one knew, not even my parents.”

The pain and guilt led Ruch to leave home at the age of 17, hitchhiking cross-country.

“I would go places where no one knew me,” he said. “I was homeless and have even had to live in boxes under bridges,” he confessed. “But my heart was so cold, I had no fear, not even in the darkest hours.”

Ruch would work for food in area restaurants and sleep in abandoned buildings when possible. But amidst all of the turmoil, he said there were times of stability.

“I would get jobs in many of these places and I would meet people, but I would always find a way to sabotage anything good that came my way. I was a pit of self-destruction and I wanted to continue to run from everything in my life.”

Ruch said he ran for years, but admits that life on the road took its toll. “I wanted normalcy for myself,” he said with a sigh of regret.

“But in a way, I guess I just didn’t feel like I deserved it.” He recalls Father’s Day being the hardest day of all.

“I would see people in the yard playing catch with their sons and fishing. It hurt me to know that I never had that as a child and knew I was probably never going to have that as an adult.”

Ruch did marry twice, but both relationships ended just months after they began.

Unable to cope with the roller-coaster of emotions swirling in his head, Ruch continued to depend on his familiar friends. “I was drinking a gallon of vodka and whiskey every other day and I was popping pills like candy.”

But in 2002, Ruch believed he had found a light at the end of his tunnel.

A woman he had briefly dated told him he was going to be a father. A short time later, a baby named Jaden was born leading Ruch to leave many of his destructive habits behind.

But self-destruction was still looming overhead.

“Jaden’s mother was a methamphetamine addict,” Ruch said. “I would often have my daughter for days at a time when she would just disappear.”

Ruch said this went on for several years. Then, in 2005, the child’s mother was sent to prison, giving Ruch the ability to file for custody.

The mother’s family members fought the motion, requesting a paternity test.

“I remember sitting in a Kentucky court that day with California officials on a phone conference. They told me I was not the father,” he said with a look of despair. I was destroyed.”

A short time later, Ruch’s father died of a massive heart attack. It was more than the man of 40 could handle. “I took about 30 Xanax,” he said. “I just wanted to die.”

But Ruch woke up in the hospital the next morning, very much alive.

He was sent to a psychiatric clinic for help, where he said he remembers being discharged with one thing, more pills. “I tried again to overdose and kill myself,” Ruch admitted. But again, he awoke to the familiar sights and smells of a hospital room.

After unsuccessfully attempting suicide three times, Ruch said something occurred to him. “Short of pulling a gun on myself, this isn’t working,” he thought. “There must be some reason I am not supposed to die.”

But Ruch would not find out what that reason was until sometime later.

It was June 24, 2008. Ruch had been invited to a party. “As usual, when I attended a party, I consumed a lot of alcohol,” he said. “On this night, it was a half-gallon of vodka.

An argument ensued with another party-goer in the early morning hours of the 25th. Guns were reportedly attained and the incident’s threat level escalated. Someone called 911.

“I heard the cops coming,” Ruch said. “I ran to my porch and remember them running up with their weapons drawn telling me to get on the ground.”

While Ruch was handcuffed lying in the dirt on the ground, he said he had time to think.

“I remember telling one of the officers I was tired of my life, that I had tried everything and I was tired of living,” Ruch said. “And I recall him looking at me and saying, ‘well, have you tried God?’”

Ruch said that moment changed his life.

“I woke up the next day and felt guilt like I had never felt before,” he said. “It was as if a whole life’s guilt had rushed over me. I didn’t even leave the house that day.”

Ruch said he thought about the numerous times his landlord had asked him if he was interested in going to church. Ruch had repeatedly declined. “I would always say, ‘I don’t need the Lord in my business ‘cause I don’t want to be in his.’”

But this week, Ruch found himself waiting out in the driveway, where he knew his landlord would faithfully pass by on Tuesday afternoon.

“I remember seeing him pulling in and walking up to his vehicle. I asked him if the invitation still stood for me to go to church and he said, ‘absolutely.’”

Ruch was saved one year ago this past Sunday- Father’s Day.

Ruch has been sober for a year now. And he’s been in the front row church pew every Sunday morning and Wednesday evening, as well. “For the first time in thirty-something years, I am free,” he said with a wide-eyed smile. “The only desire I have these days is for the Lord.”

Ruch pointed to the shirt he was wearing which fittingly said, “My lifeguard walks on water, does yours?”

As Ruch’s one year anniversary approached, he sought out the man in uniform that he credits with “saving his life.”

“That man,” he soon discovered, was Marshall County Deputy Tim Reynolds.

Ruch recently contacted Reynolds to say ‘thank you,’ although he admitted those words didn’t seem like nearly enough.

Ironically, Reynolds was honored this past week as ‘Officer of the Year’ for handling an incident in which he successfully negotiated with a suicidal man who had doused himelf with gasoline and was threatening to light himself on fire.

Ruch said the award was a deserving tribute to Reynolds service to the community. “I don’t know where I would be today had he not spoken those words to me. I know he truly saved my life that night.”