Voices of U of U Health
Leader Profile: Dave Eldredge Draws From Life Experience to Improve Mental Health Care for Others
By Dave Eldredge, MSW, LCSW
Some of the most important lessons in my life didn’t come from school or work. They came from a wheat field.
When I was about 12 years old, I made a mistake that could have really cost my grandfather. He was teaching me how to drive a tractor with a big chisel plow trailing behind it. I was trying hard to do everything he’d taught me, except one of the most important things: to look back as much as you look forward. As I was having trouble getting up an incline, I just kept powering up it. When I finally looked back, I realized I’d torn up the field and damaged the equipment.
I was devastated. I knew I’d made a big mistake, and I was crying by the time he reached me. He climbed up to the cab, put his arm around me, and said, in his cowboy way, “It’s okay. No use crying over spilled milk. Let’s just hook up another implement and get you going again.”
And that was it. He didn’t try to lecture me or make me feel bad. Just calm understanding and a way forward.
I’ve thought about that moment a lot over the years. It shows the kind of person he was. Strong but gentle. He believed in helping people, not judging them. Honest and steady. He understood that people can rise when you believe in them, and grace after failure is often more powerful than criticism.
I feel like a lot of how I work today started right there.
The Ground I Come From
Growing up, life was hard. Both of my parents struggled with serious behavioral health issues, and we lived in real poverty. Other kids let me know exactly how they saw me: poor, lazy, dumb. Somewhere in those years, I developed a deep feeling for people who were overlooked, judged, or pushed aside.
Then, in seventh grade, a close friend who had always been a little behind his peers was shoved down in a school hallway while boys walked right over him. Not long after, he died by suicide. That was the moment I knew I wanted to spend my life doing something that helped people like him.
From Patient to Healer
The path to this role was far from straight. Early in my studies at the University of Utah, I was struggling deeply with my own behavioral health. In 1989, I was a patient at what’s now Huntsman Mental Health Institute. I don’t talk about it often. But before I could become a healer, I needed healing of my own.
My older sister helped me see that education could open a different future, and mentors saw things in me that I didn’t yet see in myself. I studied sociology, psychology, anthropology, and social work, then buckled down and got to work.
I started with inpatient units as a psych tech and later joined Valley Mental Health as a volunteer. Over the years, I held many different roles. Any time a door opened, I put my foot in it. Not because of my own ambition but because I wanted to learn and help and grow.
What Recovery Really Looks Like
Some very important years of my career were at a supported housing program for 72 residents living with severe mental illness. Many of them had just come from inpatient care. When I got there, the culture felt more about control than care. Residents were heavily sedated, many stayed in their rooms, and they couldn’t enter their own building without a staff escort.
In my first week, employees flat out told me: “We don’t want you here, and we will get rid of you.” But I believed, and it took years to show, that if we trusted the people we served, they would help build a better program than we ever could on our own.
So we changed things. We started a resident council, gave people access to their own building and apartments, and set up a client-run kitchen that eventually led some residents to paid jobs.
The changes were slow. There was resistance, and there were nights I drove home in tears. But with time, residents took ownership of the space. Some found jobs, moved into their own apartments, got driver’s licenses, and reconnected with family.
It was an experience that taught me lessons I still hold onto: People do better when they’re trusted, dignity changes culture, and good leadership makes room for strength.
The Work at Huntsman Mental Health Institute
Those same beliefs guide me now at Huntsman Mental Health Institute. I oversee clinical operations across the mental health hospital, outpatient clinics, telehealth, crisis care, and residential programs. This work means more to me than operations alone. At the institute, clinical care, research, and education are all connected. We care for people in the moment, train future clinicians and leaders, and study what works so we can keep improving care.
A lot of what shaped me early in life still influences how I think about this work now:
- Compassion starts with seeing people clearly. Some of the hardest parts of my childhood taught me to look past stigma and see the full human being in front of me.
- Healing and leadership both depend on trust. Whether someone is a patient, a resident, or part of a care team, people do better when they’re treated with dignity and belief.
- Real change happens when care, research, and education work together. That’s what gives Huntsman Mental Health Institute the chance to improve lives now and build something better for the future.
Mental health care improves when all these parts work together. Our faculty and staff carry that mission with extraordinary skill and compassion, even when the realities of behavioral health care are difficult.
What I Want to Build
My vision is pretty plain: Everyone should be able to get the behavioral health services they need and deserve, whenever and wherever they need, and always with kindness and respect.
The worst feeling in this work is when someone can’t get that care. A child in crisis. A family feeling lost. A person who’s ready for help but can’t get through the door. That’s what I’m determined to change.
We can make it easier for people to get care, improve our services, support research, and teach the next generation, all at the same time. We can keep growing programs where they’re needed, like crisis care, pediatric mental health, and maternal mental health.
What Clarifies the Work
I received a health diagnosis a few months ago that gave me a bit more clarity. I’m doing okay, but experiences like that really put things into perspective. They remind us just how important people and our relationships are. Our connections and our families. And being able to do work that helps them all.
At this point in my life, I know I’m exactly where I want to be. At Huntsman Mental Health Institute, I get the chance to contribute to something much bigger than myself, and that feels really good.
The Future Worth Building
My grandfather tended the same ground for decades before he saw a harvest. I’ve been doing this work for 35 years, and there’s still a lot of ground left to cover.
I really believe in what’s possible when we treat each other with dignity, trust, and care. I believe that recovery is possible, that we can make our systems better, and that Huntsman Mental Health Institute can help make it happen in ways that go far beyond our walls.
I’m not done yet. I’m just tenacious enough to keep going.
