Finding Purpose With the Pain

In another high school gymnasium in another Midwestern town, Robert Kiessling ’87 is helping to save lives. He knows too well the pain wrought by the nation’s ongoing fentanyl epidemic. It was July 29, 2020, when the scourge turned his own life upside down.

Sons Caleb, 20, and Kyler, 18, along with a 17-year-old friend, died in a Michigan hotel room after taking what they thought was Percocet, a prescription pain drug often used recreationally. But they were counterfeit pills, laced with fentanyl, a deadly synthetic opioid. Caleb was in the process of enlisting in the US Navy, while Kyler had just graduated from high school. Their mood was celebratory that summer night.

And then, they were gone.

“Nothing prepares you for this,” says Kiessling. “You just feel empty. I have a persistent feeling of hollowness.”

The five stages of grief, culminating with accepting one’s circumstances, felt insufficient to Kiessling. He’d adopt what he calls a sixth stage, that of “finding purpose with the pain.”

More than a year ago, he joined the nonprofit Fentanyl Fathers, a cadre of dads who, like Kiessling, have lost children to fentanyl. It’s the leading cause of death among those 18 to 45 years old, according to the Drug Enforcement Administration. All told, fentanyl was responsible for about 70% of the more than 87,000 overdose deaths in the United States between October 2023 and September 2024.

Fentanyl Fathers aims to visit every high school in America, sharing the stories of lives lost, while warning young adults that the popular prescription pills that are acquired on the street are likely counterfeit and pressed with lethal fentanyl. The group also advocates for the widespread availability of Naloxone, a medicine and opioid “antagonist” that rapidly reverses overdose effects.  

“It was time for me to make a difference and use this terrible tragedy and turn it into triumph, knowing that my sons would want me to help others,” Kiessling says of joining the organization. “Fentanyl took my boys, and it could easily take my neighbors’ children. So I asked myself, ‘What am I going to do about it?’”

Fentanyl, whose legal use is to treat severe pain, is 50 times more potent than morphine. A lethal dose may be as small as 2 milligrams—the equivalent of three grains of salt. In 2023, law enforcement seized 115 million pills containing illicit fentanyl, according to the National Institute on Drug Abuse. 

“Our message is: Never take a pill unless it comes from a prescription bottle with your name on it,” says Kiessling, who estimates that he’s spoken at about a dozen high school assemblies. “Don’t borrow a pill, none of that. Don’t try, don’t die. Illicit fentanyl has so permeated the supply that it’s not worth the risk.”

Statistics don’t do enough to convey the risks and heartache, Kiessling says. Fentanyl Fathers opens assemblies with personal stories. The high school audience empathizes with the photos of his sons during his presentation—a candid shot of Caleb in a classroom, an image of Kyler in his wrestling uniform.

Some schools make counselors available to talk to students who are overwhelmed by the presentations. “It’s a heavy topic, and there are many individual reactions,” Kiessling says. “Telling the very real story is impactful for the kids. We give them the factual information so they can make good decisions.”

Kiessling says his Christian faith has helped him navigate his losses. His community of friends and family offered immediate and sustained support. His ex-wife, Rebecca, also speaks publicly about the dangers of illicit fentanyl.

Jon Quint ’87 marvels at his friend’s commitment to sharing his story and educating others about risks. “His reactions have shown a strength of character that, honestly, I don’t know that I possess,” says Quint. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to relive such a horrific experience by opening up to other people. But I think it’s a great thing he’s doing.”

The pair met as first-year students at WPI, where both were members of the Lambda Chi Alpha fraternity. They both majored in electrical engineering, enjoyed playing cards, and are still good friends today.

The concept of the Interactive Qualifying Project appealed to Kiessling, now the director of strategic business development for an electrical distribution equipment manufacturer. Serving a societal need, whether it’s through technology or personal experience, is a mindset that he’s carried with him to this day.

Since losing his boys, Kiessling says “there’s more of a seriousness” to his personality. “It’s made me more purposeful in how I’m spending my time. As a father who lost my child to fentanyl poisoning, I speak from a place of deep loss—one that carries weight and resonates with young people. Fentanyl Fathers proactively educates students about the counterfeit pills and the dangers of fentanyl. Now I have an opportunity to give meaning and purpose to my boys’ lives by talking to these awesome high school kids in a manner that respects their autonomy.

“In moments past, there was self-recrimination, a dad’s question to himself: ‘What could I have done differently to save my boys?’ I can’t do anything for my boys. However, I can do something for other parents and young adults.”

But there is deeper work, in the face of incalculable loss. His boys would be proud of his outreach, Kiessling says. “The loss is indescribable,” he says. “All I know is that I need to respond to it.”