ADDICT TURNS LIFE AROUND, NOW HELPS OTHERS

Michael Rick just had the best Christmas of his life. Not only did the
42-year-old see snow in Indiana while visiting his first wife, but he
also practiced the most-important skill he learned since undergoing
treatment for substance abuse at one of Louisiana's few long-term care
programs.

He made amends with his ex-wife, a single mother, for exposing her to
his selfish life of alcohol and painkillers. To prove he's changed,
Rick bought his ex-wife's daughter a computer.

"I'm one of those people now," he said. "I think of others, too,
now."

That's the least obvious of his changes.

Rick used to live under an overpass, but plans to own a home soon. He
helps run the Cenikor Foundation's newest facility at 2414 Bunker Hill
Drive in Baton Rouge, which he and other clients renovated.

The facility, which opened in November, is privately funded and offers
free drug treatment.

Rick graduated from the program in June and was hired as an admissions
manager. He recruits clients at the same jails where he once stayed.

Rick started using drugs and drinking alcohol when he was 14. He soon
began abusing both substances, but can't recall exactly when or why.

"A lot of it I really can't explain," he said. "I drank and used drugs
to cover up those feelings that I wasn't used to dealing with."

The abuse ravaged every aspect of his life.

While racking up 13 DWIs, he married and divorced twice. He also
conned everyone he knew for money he never repaid.

A judge took Rick's car and put him on house arrest for six months.
But he drank the whole time and sold his house after completing his
sentence.. Rick then moved into a hotel, and in the course of six
months spent the money he earned from selling his house on drugs and
alcohol.

A friend gave him a place to stay until realizing Rick couldn't
control his habit. The friend left Rick in Amite with $100 about four
years ago. "He said, 'If I cut you loose, you might wake up one day,'"
he said.

Rick's day of revelation came after he lived under an overpass for
about three months, panhandling for food, alcohol and money. He had
not eaten in four days and saw a man toss a fast-food carton into a
nearby garbage can.

As Rick reached into the receptacle, it finally struck him that he
needed help.

He walked to his probation office the next day and found the Cenikor
program near Houston.

"I told them I've been doing this crap all my life," Rick said. "I
need something tough."

Cenikor was the answer.

Rick, a native of Husser near Amite, said he had reservations about
being transferred back to Baton Rouge from Houston to work on the
Cenikor facility, but soon realized his efforts would help others.

George Mills, vice president of Cenikor in Louisiana, said that
reaction was common among the clients he recruited for
renovations.

"They're dedicated to the program," he said. "It saved their
lives."

Mills went through the program in Colorado and took a path similar to
Rick's before a judge allowed him to try Cenikor.

He graduated from the program six months ago and still lives at the
center.

"I finally feel like this is my house," Rick said. "I didn't just walk
in on it."

The facility, which will eventually house both men and women, has 98
beds with plans for another 72.

Cenikor also has two treatment facilities in Texas and one in
Colorado.

Cenikor houses walk-ins, people who are sentenced by judges and those
referred by parole officers. Clients stay at the centers while they
learn life skills and accept who they are and what they've done.

After reaching a certain point in their treatment, they live at the
centers while working outside jobs. Part of their wages goes to
Cenikor to fund the program, which costs an average of $16,000 a year
per client.

Rick said he has changed so much that some family members refuse to
believe he's overcome his past problems.

"Life is really good," he said. "I look back on how I lived my life
and it don't even seem like it was me."