Steven Tennies, JD

For most of my existence, 49 years to be exact, I worked hard, remained honest, and believed myself to be immune from the temptations and perils of the darker side of life. I came from a middle-class family. My father was an electronics engineer with AT&T, my mother a tax examiner with the IRS. I earned a BA in Philosophy from Georgia State University, a JD from Creighton University, and completed post graduate coursework in counseling and religious studies.

I’ve achieved financial success as an attorney, entrepreneur, management consultant, and investor. In fact, by the time I reached 45, my dream of becoming a multimillionaire became a reality when mybusiness partners and I sold our firm to a Fortune 500 company. By most measures, I was the embodiment of the American Dream.

Regretfully, the dream ended for me when I began to perpetrate a securities fraud in 2007. My crime played out over the course of about 18 months, involved 32 investors, and resulted in a net loss of more than $1.57 million. In the beginning, I did not intend to commit a crime, though now looking back I realize that my behavior was certainly not consistent with my stated intentions.

As each month went by I continued to bury myself deeper and deeper into what seemed to be a bottomless pit. I knew I had to stop, and guilt, regret, and remorse were consuming me. Not only had I violated federal securities laws, but I betrayed the confidence numerous investors had placed in me, and lost the hard-earned money they had entrusted me to protect and grow.

It was difficult for me to accept that I was not exactly the person I portrayed myself to be. In fact, I had become the kind of person I least admired and respected, letting my hair grow past my shoulders, eating like there was no tomorrow, and drinking like a fish. I isolated myself from the few friends that I had left and emotionally disconnected from my inner self and from my sons. Worse yet, I ignored my moral compass and allowed my character and values to implode.

I knew that I needed to make a change, I just wasn’t sure what course I should take. I felt I had four options. First, I could off myself. Second, I could try to stay afloat and continue living in denial. Third, I could run. Fourth, I could voluntarily turn myself in and face the consequences of my misconduct.

I gave the first option the most thought. However, I could not bring myself to hurting my sons any more than I already had—I knew that I had not been the kind of father they deserved. Although I had three divorces under my belt, somehow I had managed to remain married to my career and the pursuit of material success, but it was always at the expense of my sons. And taking such an easy and cowardly way out of my dilemma went against everything I believed in. Option two seemed viable at first, but when the stock market crashed and Bernie Madoff was making the daily headlines, I realized continuing on would only make matters worse and ultimately destroy me. Option three was simply delusional, and I gave it the least amount of thought.

This left me with option four, turning myself in, which is what I did. In doing so, I began the process of reclaiming my ethical self and getting back on track, because it required that I find the fortitude to standup, by myself, and admit to my wrongdoing. Turning myself in also provided me with the possibility to finally serve as a proper role model to my sons. I had hurt them enough—pursuing any other option would only have made things worse for them. By coming clean, I gave them an example of what good behavior is, what it means to accept responsibility for one’s actions, and what behavior should be avoided at all costs. But most important, coming clean gave me the opportunity to apologize to them, ask forforgiveness, and commit to being a better father to them.

I have a long way to go in rebuilding our relationship, but my sons seem to be willing to give me thatchance. I am humbled by their love and compassion and know that I do not deserve their forgiveness, but I appreciate more than anyone can know, the second chance to be the father they need and deserve to have.

So it was that on February 12, 2009, I left my home, retained an attorney, and voluntarily disclosed my offense to the Assistant U.S. Attorney, SEC, and FBI. I was not under investigation, or even under the threat of investigation, but came forward on my own volition. On July 29, 2009, I pleaded guilty to four counts of mail fraud. My sentencing is scheduled for October 19, 2009.

As part of my punishment, I have been permanently enjoined from working in the financial services industry. The SEC also obtained a civil judgment against me for $1.7 million. Criminally, I face incarceration in a federal prison, up to $1 million in fines, as well as criminal forfeiture of $1.57 million. I am prepared to accept, and know that I deserve, all of these consequences that are the result of mycrime.

On an emotional level, these past two years have been emotionally debilitating. I’ve been conflicted, depressed, anxious, and embarrassed. More than anything else, though, I felt and continue to feel profound shame, regret, and remorse. Internally, I struggle with my conscience and coming to terms with my transgression. And the struggle has been brutal! I have had to come face to face with the fact that I was not the person that I portrayed myself to be and that others believed in and trusted. And I have come to learn first hand that there is no greater disappointment than that which comes from self-generated wrongdoing.

So many people’s lives will be forever changed because of my reckless behavior, and they deserve to hear and know that I am profoundly sorry for hurting them. I am ashamed and utterly regret having done such a terrible thing. And I understand that regardless of what I do or hope to do, I will never be able to completely repay what I have taken from so many, because I can never erase the emotional pain I have caused.

I have lost almost everything—my home, personal possessions, career, friends, dignity, self-esteem, and reputation. I also surrendered my law license, a particularly painful event, as my family had made many sacrifices for me to attend law school.

Throughout all this, I have been surprised by the bravery one can muster when they are frightened out of their mind. But I must admit that what has me the most frightened is not the time I will serve in prison or the payment of fines, interest, and restitution.

What frightens me most is what awaits me upon my release. I am painfully aware that the end of my prison sentence will not mark the end of the consequences of my crime. I will be without a home or career to return to. I will confront decimated personal and business relationships. Then I’ll face three years of supervised release, which will be followed by the lifelong label of convicted felon. That label carries with it limited employment and housing opportunities, and makes the prompt repayment of restitution nearly impossible.

But I know that I must be held accountable, and I commit to spending the rest of my life trying to make the victims of my crime whole and doing all that I can to set things straight. This is no small undertaking, but I am absolutely dedicated to doing the very best that I can.