I interviewed Patrick in French over the phone for Server Tech position at Dell. I was in Dublin while Patrick was in Geneva. We hired him and I became his mentor, of sorts, while he was there. Patrick had his MCSE, was very good technically, and really cared about his customers.
After about a year there, Patrick told me he was taking leave to go to Moscow to get certified in some Russian martial art. While that part might have been true, he was also apparently going there to pick up (or pick out) a Russian bride; he came back to Ireland with a pretty blond Russian girl. Then, a few months into her first pregnancy, they suddenly disappeared.
Patrick was living in a small town south of Dublin (think Ballykissangle) and was getting rides to work with a French-speaking TAM from South Africa, who lived even further south. Colin kept going by, but no one was ever there and nothing ever changed in the view through the window. It was only months later that we started getting emails from Patrick saying something about his wife, pregnancy, embassy, emergency medical evac back to the states. The details of it all really were that sketchy.
A few months later, Patrick showed back up in Dublin, hoping to find a job in Ireland. I saw him for the last time in front of the Dell office and lent him some money. Obviously, Dell wasn't going to hire him back, but he was hoping to be able to find something. He was switching between staying with Colin and Nic R., both of whom lived about an hour south of Dublin. It was then that we found out that Patrick was a raging alcoholic. He was drinking everything he could get his hands on. And apparently, he wasn't a fun, happy drunk. He was paranoid and scary. He had also gotten some powerful anti-depressants while in the states, but couldn't get the prescription renewed in Ireland.
A not so quick Google search by concerned hosts revealed, among other things, an article in German, complete with an unflattering picture, describing the warrant for his arrest. We called the police station in Germany to find out if the warrant was still in effect. It turns out that he had just skipped out on rent and his landlady had pressed charges. The misdemeanor was of much less concern than the description of the female companion who was also listed on the warrant. The tall dark-haired Austrian was quite unlike the petite blond Russian we knew about.
There were a lot of theories about Patrick's past. Personally, I think he may have worked for agency (that must not be named) and had done things that injured his conscience. I think he had memories that were haunting him and his drinking was an attempt to quiet the voices in his head. He was smart enough (or well trained enough) to construct completely new identities, which worked for a while until the skeletons in his closet started rattling again. Then he would have to try to escape them.
In any case, since his reluctant hosts both had families, and since Patrick was becoming increasingly unhinged, they had to kick him out. Colin packed up his belongings and took them to the nearest Garda station, where he told Patrick to go. We had to piece together what happened next from various sources. Ireland does have homeless shelters, but there are rules. On one particular night Patrick was too drunk to be allowed into the last shelter he tried to go to. January in Ireland is not a fun, snowey Winterland; it's very cold and very wet. Patrick died of exposure, drunk and homeless, on the streets of Dublin that night, January 29, 2007.
When the police found his body, he had no identification on him. They were going to bury him in an unmarked grave, but Dennis Muldoon (an Irishman who lived in France and was good friends with Patrick) claimed the body at the morgue. He had it cremated and arranged with the U.S. embassy to have the remains flown the Patrick's family in Pennsylvania.
After about a year there, Patrick told me he was taking leave to go to Moscow to get certified in some Russian martial art. While that part might have been true, he was also apparently going there to pick up (or pick out) a Russian bride; he came back to Ireland with a pretty blond Russian girl. Then, a few months into her first pregnancy, they suddenly disappeared.
Patrick was living in a small town south of Dublin (think Ballykissangle) and was getting rides to work with a French-speaking TAM from South Africa, who lived even further south. Colin kept going by, but no one was ever there and nothing ever changed in the view through the window. It was only months later that we started getting emails from Patrick saying something about his wife, pregnancy, embassy, emergency medical evac back to the states. The details of it all really were that sketchy.
A few months later, Patrick showed back up in Dublin, hoping to find a job in Ireland. I saw him for the last time in front of the Dell office and lent him some money. Obviously, Dell wasn't going to hire him back, but he was hoping to be able to find something. He was switching between staying with Colin and Nic R., both of whom lived about an hour south of Dublin. It was then that we found out that Patrick was a raging alcoholic. He was drinking everything he could get his hands on. And apparently, he wasn't a fun, happy drunk. He was paranoid and scary. He had also gotten some powerful anti-depressants while in the states, but couldn't get the prescription renewed in Ireland.
A not so quick Google search by concerned hosts revealed, among other things, an article in German, complete with an unflattering picture, describing the warrant for his arrest. We called the police station in Germany to find out if the warrant was still in effect. It turns out that he had just skipped out on rent and his landlady had pressed charges. The misdemeanor was of much less concern than the description of the female companion who was also listed on the warrant. The tall dark-haired Austrian was quite unlike the petite blond Russian we knew about.
There were a lot of theories about Patrick's past. Personally, I think he may have worked for agency (that must not be named) and had done things that injured his conscience. I think he had memories that were haunting him and his drinking was an attempt to quiet the voices in his head. He was smart enough (or well trained enough) to construct completely new identities, which worked for a while until the skeletons in his closet started rattling again. Then he would have to try to escape them.
In any case, since his reluctant hosts both had families, and since Patrick was becoming increasingly unhinged, they had to kick him out. Colin packed up his belongings and took them to the nearest Garda station, where he told Patrick to go. We had to piece together what happened next from various sources. Ireland does have homeless shelters, but there are rules. On one particular night Patrick was too drunk to be allowed into the last shelter he tried to go to. January in Ireland is not a fun, snowey Winterland; it's very cold and very wet. Patrick died of exposure, drunk and homeless, on the streets of Dublin that night, January 29, 2007.
When the police found his body, he had no identification on him. They were going to bury him in an unmarked grave, but Dennis Muldoon (an Irishman who lived in France and was good friends with Patrick) claimed the body at the morgue. He had it cremated and arranged with the U.S. embassy to have the remains flown the Patrick's family in Pennsylvania.
