Before my life fell apart, I was a respected hotel and restaurant manager, a devoted father, and someone people trusted. I had built a stable life. But behind the scenes, I was slowly unraveling.
In 2012, my infant son died shortly after birth. That moment shattered something deep in me. At the time, I didn’t know how to grieve or how to ask for help. So instead, I numbed the pain the only way I knew how—through alcohol.
For a few years, I managed to function on the outside. I worked, parented, showed up. But the addiction was growing. And in 2016 and 2017, it all came crashing down. In the span of a single year, I was arrested for driving under the influence with my children in the car—one of the most shameful moments of my life. Not long after, I was arrested again and charged in connection with a bank robbery.
My name—Wesley “Wes” Burgner—made headlines. National news. It felt like the whole world was watching as I lost everything.
But here’s the part the headlines didn’t tell.
I didn’t wait for the court to force me into rehab. I checked myself into inpatient treatment because I knew I needed help. I followed that with a full year in a sober living community. And almost a year into my sobriety, I was accepted into Fulton County’s Accountability Court—a rigorous, long-term program for people ready to rebuild. I completed it with full transparency and became one of its standout graduates.
I have now been sober for several years.
I’ve regained the trust of my family. I’ve rebuilt relationships with my children that I will never again take for granted. I’ve gone back to school at Georgia State University, majoring in psychology. I built a business. I became a homeowner in Atlanta. And I founded The Artemis Council—a nonprofit that supports children of addicted parents. After everything I put my kids through, I wanted to give other families the support we didn’t have.
My past is still searchable. Those articles still come up when people Google my name. That’s why I legally changed my name to Wess—not to run from what I did, but to shield my children from having to relive it every time someone looked me up.
I’m sharing my story now not because it’s easy, but because I want people to see that redemption is possible—even when it feels completely out of reach.
There is no version of this story where I’m the hero. The most heroic people in my life are my kids, my family, and the people who held me accountable. I carry this story not as a badge of shame, but as a responsibility. I wake up every day and try to live a life that my children can be proud of—and one that I can be proud of, too.
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