My Story

By Stephen Courtney and Jenna Barlow

A story about a man overcoming the debilitating physical effects of a stroke to rise up once again, reclaim his life and find God once more in the process. This book chronicles that journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9780620605366

Book preview

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

My Father’s Son: childhood in Northern Ireland

Chapter Two

Success and Stress: Life in South Africa

Chapter Three

My Deal With God: the stroke and its aftermath

Chapter Four

Finding Strength: my physical, emotional and spiritual recovery

Afterword

Repaying My Debts

Images

Copyright Information

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book to my father, Hugh Stephen Courtney, whose influence shaped my world in ways that I could never have imagined.

Thank you, Dad, for encouraging me to pursue a career in finance. Your continued support and guidance helped me to master a trade which has led to my every success. You were an outstanding role model to both me and Sheena. Your intellect, wisdom and charitable nature left a lasting impression on me, and are virtues I hope to instill in my own children.

Lastly, I would like to thank you for introducing both me and Sheena to Christianity. Although I confess prior neglect of my faith, I am so grateful to have found God once again. This book has been written in dedication to you and the tireless efforts you put into making the world a better place.

Acknowledgements

Stories, like one’s life, are continuously enriched by those who play some part in the telling. The publication of My Story would not have been possible without the input and support of the following people:

I would like to extend my thanks to Dr. Jenna Barlow, for putting into words my every thought. Jenna is an outstanding writer, who was able to climb inside my head and tell my story through my eyes. Initially, I enquired about procuring the authors John Irving or Ron Chernow to tell my story, but my daughter insisted on Dr. Barlow, who has outdone my expectations.

My sincere gratitude also goes to my speech therapist, Stephanie Price, who has taught me how to talk again and assisted me in putting my thoughts into a logical order for the sequencing of this book.

I am thankful to the Malone Golf Club Members, Rollo McClure and Brenden Cruish, for my initial introduction to my one true passion, golf. Thanks also to John Rankin and Jan Gilbert, my childhood friends, who continue to inspire my love for golf.

My thanks to Tandi Cuningham, for her friendship and advice, and for helping me regain my confidence on the golf course – a truly invaluable gift.

I have had many role models in life. John D. Rockefeller has been my inspiration in the business and commercial world, and his wisdom has lead me to the many accomplishments I have achieved today. Tiger Woods is my ultimate sporting hero, and his magnificence on the golf course gives me reason to continue to better myself. I thank both these idols for the immense influence they have had on my life.

I have always been a great fan of the Royal Portrush Golf Club in Northern Ireland, and I would like to express my admiration for Harry Colt and his remarkable redesign of the course. My golfing idols from Northern Ireland – Rory McIlroy, Darren Clarke and Graeme McDowell – have all won Championships there.

I am continually grateful to Kerry Anne Colley for her tireless assistance, for always ensuring that my business matters are in order, and for supporting the interests of my family.

I am thankful to my sister, Sheena Lewis, for sharing in a childhood of happy memories in Northern Ireland and for her friendship in adulthood.

My son, Hugh Courtney, ensured that all of my business affairs were well taken care of while I was hospitalised, and provided me with invaluable assistance during my recovery.

My daughter, Sarah Wray, uplifted my spirits with her enduring optimism, even when I was at my lowest ebb, and granted me my independence by assisting me to drive again. I would also like to thank Sarah for her input and great efforts in getting this book published.

Finally, my sincere gratitude to the illustrious Bob Dylan – your song Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door got me through my most terrifying times in hospital.

Chapter One

My Father’s Son: childhood in Northern Ireland

I learned my first lesson in finance by looking after chickens.

Almost as soon as I was old enough to toddle across the yard, I would follow my father around the farm as he worked, tending to the Hereford cattle or the seemingly endless inventory of odd jobs and repairs. He was a meticulous man: each evening, every single head of cattle was methodically counted, and his record books were kept scrupulously up-to-date. When I was about five or six years old, I was entrusted with the care of two chickens of my own; Dad instructed me that I was not only responsible for their day-to-day needs, but also for keeping records of their upkeep, in much the same way that he kept detailed notes on his livestock. In my little accounts book, I drew up a kind of rudimentary balance sheet: every shilling spent on a meal, bed of straw or new roosting perch was recorded on the debit side, while the value of each egg they produced was noted on the credit side. I would then reconcile the balance between the two to work out whether they were making us any money. My chickens always made a profit.

From my lucrative little chicken empire, which I diligently nurtured with all the enthusiasm of a child entrusted with a great and important job, I graduated to cattle when Dad gave me my own cow to look after. When she calved, my records became gradually more complex and detailed, and though I was still a young boy, I came to have a basic understanding of accountancy and of profit and loss. Through this seemingly simple task, my father had taught me the first and most critical lesson in business: keep track of the money, and the profits will follow.

* * *

My father was undoubtedly my greatest role model as a boy, not only in business, but in all aspects of his life. As his firstborn child and only son, I carried not only his name but also his legacy, a responsibility that I took very seriously.

Hugh Courtney was what one might call a self-made man. His father, my grandfather, was a baker from a modest background, and my father was the only son of his four children. Dad proved his intellectual prowess from an early age and won a scholarship to attend a local private school; he placed a lot of value in education and the opportunities it afforded him, going on to qualify as an accountant and eventually starting his own business. By the time I was born in 1953, he was running a successful accountancy firm as well as a prosperous farm. Situated in the village of Ballycoan, just south of Belfast in Northern Ireland, the farm was an idyllic setting in which to grow up. Our family home was called Beechwood House, and was surrounded by fifty acres of fertile land with a river flowing through it, all of which provided plenty of opportunities for adventure as a young boy.

Dad’s success in business and his entrepreneurial spirit made a great impression on me growing up. He was an incredibly hard worker, and six days a week, from Monday to Saturday, he would head off to his business. H. Courtney and Company, the accountancy firm he had founded, employed three secretaries and four bookkeepers, and my father’s office – a lush, impressive space where he met clients – was at the centre of its