Dear Friends, Strangers, and Believers in Redemption,

My name is Bill Barnard—and like many Americans, I am more than the worst thing I have ever done.

I am a husband and father who treasures his family. An Operations Director for a local nonprofit, responsible for technology, security systems, and infrastructure that help protect vulnerable people and keep critical services running. I am a volunteer search-and-rescue drone pilot who deploys into disaster zones to help locate the missing. I am a recovering addict—sober for more than 15 years—who now works alongside victims of trafficking, homelessness, and addiction. I am the person people list as their emergency contact when they have no one else left.

I am also a felon.

At 18 years old, in the depths of a meth addiction rooted in unaddressed childhood trauma, I was convicted of possessing a firearm. I served my sentence. I accepted responsibility. But the punishment did not end when my time was complete. Decades later, that conviction still follows me—blocking my ability to obtain a state security license required to advance my career and permanently denying me the restoration of my firearm rights.

For the past 14 years, I have done everything our system says redemption requires. I rebuilt my life from the ground up. I stayed sober. I bought a home. I became a leader. I mentor people battling addiction. I lead operations at a nonprofit serving our community. I enter prisons across the state to tell my story—to look men in the eye who are where I once was and tell them that change is possible, that their lives are not over, that they can build something they are proud of.

I have flown search-and-rescue missions. I have de-escalated people living on the street who only needed to be heard. I have helped veterans secure housing and handed them the first key to a place they could finally call home.

This request is not about erasing my past. It is about acknowledging what came after it.

I am asking President Donald J. Trump to grant me a presidential pardon—not as an act of mercy alone, but as recognition of sustained accountability, rehabilitation, and service. A pardon would allow me to:

• Obtain professional licenses and certifications I am currently barred from despite my qualifications
• Restore my firearm rights so I can lawfully protect myself and my family
• Demonstrate, in the clearest possible way, that redemption in America is real

This is bigger than me. It is about whether our country believes that people can truly change—or whether we believe mistakes made in youth should carry a lifetime sentence, no matter what comes after.

If you believe in second chances, if you believe people are more than the worst moment of their lives, if you believe a former addict can become a first responder and a felon can become a protector—then I ask for your support.

My work is not finished. With your help, I can continue to serve fully and without restriction: finding the lost, standing up for the forgotten, and teaching my children that accountability and grace are not opposites—but partners.

Thank you for believing in redemption.