CHICAGO -- His last arrows fired in the Warrior Games archery preliminaries, Michael Barefoot stood around Monday with his fellow Marines, waiting to hear who made the finals. Then his wife, Tina, walked over. Barefoot calls her "my angel." He pulled her close and lightly kissed her head. That Barefoot, a fast-talking 30-year-old staff sergeant, didn't make the recurve bow final wasn't a disappointment -- he only took up archery recently. Shooting is his specialty. A few days earlier Barefoot posted the top preliminary score in prone air rifle and third-best in standing air rifle, qualifying for both eight-person finals on Friday.
"I love shooting," he said. "I always find comfort in it. It's a Marine thing to do. You have to shoot, so you might as well be good at it, right?"
True. But there's a chilling aspect to his specialty.
Barefoot considers April 27, 2013, a personal milestone, for divergent reasons. Stationed at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina, that night Barefoot met Tina at a party. It changed his life. Here's the thing: It happened a few hours after Barefoot, struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder, said he put a .45 pistol in his mouth and nearly pulled the trigger. Only a ringing phone stopped him. The caller was Tina's brother-in-law, an acquaintance, inviting him to the party.
"I was in a really bad spot and I prayed for an angel," he said. "The worst day of my life turned into one of the best days of my life."
Barefoot's problems did not end there.
Late last summer, a series of worrisome texts from Michael, then in Japan, alarmed Tina. "It didn't sound like him at all," she said. "I knew he was down. It was like he hated the world. That's when I knew he needed help."
So she texted one of Barefoot's Marine buddies, who alerted Michael's commanding officers. Soon, Michael was on his way home and into the Marine Corps' Wounded Warrior Regiment, finally getting the assistance he needed. Barefoot was reassigned to the Corps' Wounded Warrior Battalion East at Camp Lejeune.
"She's the reason why I'm here," he said.
The son of a career police officer and the youngest of three children, Barefoot joined the Corps in 2006, inspired by a friend who enlisted and the impressive Marine father of a former girlfriend. In high school in Norwalk, Ohio, Barefoot said he felt like an outcast, unathletic and hanging with a rough crowd. He admired the selflessness of his father, also named Michael, currently a sergeant in the Castalia, Ohio, police department. He figured the Marines offered the best path to mirror his father's career.
"I knew that if I was going to join any fighting service, any military branch, I was going to join the Marine Corps," he said. "It was something I wanted to do as a kid. My dad being a police officer and a pilot, I could only do that if I was a Marine first. That's how I felt. So it was easy."
In three deployments to Afghanistan and Kuwait, Barefoot mainly served in a support role as a logistics/embarkation specialist, overseeing equipment movement. Barefoot never sustained a physical combat wound. Mentally, the things he saw and the friends he lost eventually wore him down.
"Throughout my whole life I've seen a lot of bad things," he said. "I've seen dead bodies. It never really affected me until it did, but it didn't catch up to me. I lost a lot of friends to suicide, too, and it took its toll on me over time. When you're deployed, you can't go to a funeral. You can't be there for your dog dying that you grew up with. My mom passed away in 2005 right before I joined. Losing so many family and friends, it finally broke me down."
His Marine mentality made him reluctant to ask for help. Barefoot figured he could plow through by staying busy. It didn't work. He reached a low point that day in 2013.
"I had a few phone calls that morning from somebody," he said. "I was down a very bad road, very negative thinking. My house was spotless. I cleaned my whole house. I had nothing to do whatsoever."
He called around to family and friends, hoping to hear a familiar voice. No one answered. That's when he grabbed the .45. Luckily, the phone rang.
"I had the hammer back," he said. "I was getting ready to pull. Me being an embarker, a logistics person, I've got to answer my phone. Lo and behold, I answered my phone, and it was that kid. 'Hey man, we're having a party tonight, want to come over?' Might as well. Better than what I'm about to do."
The party host's wife was Tina's twin sister; Tina was living with them at the time. Michael and Tina clicked immediately. "We just actually started talking," she said. "Right off the bat, we connected. Been together since."
It took several months for Barefoot to share the full story of what went on that day. "I had no clue," she said. "That one person saved his life, and I got chills. It's a good story." They were married in January 2014.
Since Michael returned stateside, Tina said the Wounded Warrior program has made a profound difference. He's a much more fun, outgoing guy. They go for walks. He enjoys working on cars -- "Everybody's," he said -- and playing with their dog, a Chihuahua/dachshund mix named, appropriately, Auto. Michael used to immerse himself in video games for hours; now, 20 minutes and he's done.
"He's changed so much since he's been with the Wounded Warrior battalion," she said, smiling. "Totally different attitude. Joking all the time, smiling. I don't see any anger like I did when he needed the help. He's social as well. A year or two ago, it would have been like, head down. They've done amazing things with him."
As a shooter, Barefoot's confidence abounds. He never shot in competition until the Marine Corps Warrior Games Trials, he said. To be effective, shooters must control their breathing, slow their heart rate and relax. Barefoot finds it calming, therapeutic, and helpful to his overall outlook.
"I'm still hurting from a lot of the things I never took care of," he said "That's why I urge all the Marines: Make sure you back yourself up. If you do feel something weird, go get checked out, see what it is. Every branch is like that, too. Everyone has their hard head. I'm one of the prouder ones."