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For my business information, please go to Brent Stephens

This page is just for a bit of fun. My dad never was one to tell much about his childhood and life, so what I know was either dragged out of him or some close relatives. When I started this my boys were 9 and 12 years of age and interested in hearing something about my childhood, so as I tell them and the memories surface I decided to write it down for their benefit. They are now 18 and 15 so I have "Graduated" from "Best Pal" to "the Dumbest Man in the Whole Wide Word" but they will eventually show an interest again :)

I was born in East London, South Africa on Tuesday March 17, 1959 some time in the morning. We were then living in Colley Avenue, Cambridge. I went to a daycare center in Cambridge that I have vague memories about – mainly being excited to dress up in cowboy outfits and play with guns. I started school at 4 years of age (schooling runs from January to December, so I turned 5 soon after school started). I was usually the youngest in my class from then on. All I remember is my sister coming home and asking “the principal wants to know if you want to start school this year or next” – and being younger and envious that she got a nice uniform and to go to school, I of course replied “this”.

My girlfriend of the time was Lorette Althorpe (blonde – see her on the odd occasions I go to East London), I remember one Easter her father sat her on the couch and asked her to close her eyes, and then a furry bunny flew onto her lap. I tried sitting in the same spot, to no avail. It took me years to figure out her older brother threw it in through the window from outside. I asked her to be my girlfriend, and she kindly consented.

My dad was transferred to Pretoria in my second year, so I changed schools, we lived on Walter Avenue, Waverley and I went to Robert Hicks Primary School. I kept writing (with the help of mom) to Lorette, but fell in love with Ann – I was too shy to ask her to be my girlfriend, but when we lined up boys on one side and girls on the other side, I made sure I was opposite her, as we had to hold hands to go into class!

My dad did not like Pretoria, missing the sea and the fishing that went with it – and his tennis cronies. Mom did not like Pretoria either, as most people spoke Afrikaans, and she was not very conversant, so my sister Linda and I had to translate for her! I enjoyed the [Pretoria home very much, it was sunny, on a few acres, and we put a pool in, which I have many fond memories of. In fact my uncle Ottie gave me my first bicycle, it only had front brakes and I went flying around the corner forgetting they were digging the hole for the pool and went flying in!

We moved midway through Standard 1 to East London, to Burnett Road, Baysville. This was a smaller home, but with a back yard that was fairly open and attracted the friends to play soccer. My friend here was Douglas Hayne. He was a naughty kid who led me astray… (now living in Wales, Great Britain), my favorite memory was taking 3 inch fire-crackers, wrapping string around them to make them stronger, and then sticking them in post boxes and lighting them. The most spectacular blew the roof and sides off, and when we came back to inspect, the owner chased us in his car (we were on our bicycles) – caught Douglas, and when his (ex marine) father finished with him – he could not walk for a week. The other memory was going down to the nearby stream (where we would try to catch small fish and “spike” large toads or “flatties”). It was a big “no-no” to go down, but we were 10 or 11 years old and already knew it all… on the ONE occasion I decided we should go down, his bicycle was stolen. I decided to go to his house with him and take the rap. His mother proceeded to blame ME for being a poor influence (I was more of a “goody-goody” while Douglas had much older brothers and a sister so tended to take more risks than me…) I eventually felt I had taken enough and went home – where she called my mother and ranted at her, and I had to live with “just you wait until your father gets home” for a few hours. When dad got home, I got a “talking to” (I told him in later life I would have preferred the spanks instead of the “emotional blackmail” he delivered!) about how I had let my mother down, etc. etc. Well, Douglas got a new bicycle (his was a very old hand-me-down) so it all worked out…

Actually, Douglas got me back because one of his favorite memories going down to the stream (which now has a highway through the middle of it) was one rainy day when we were there in raincoats and all - and he decided we needed to swing on the rope. The idea was to give a mighty shove, and then land back on the same bank. Well, when I swung back, he stood there and would not let me land. Inevitably it gets to the point where the swings are weaker and weaker, and finally - much to his amusement - there I was in the middle of the stream hanging on the rope. No, don't expect Douglas to hand out a stick or something to help you, that is not his style. I mean, what's the fun in that? (for him, anyway!) So, eventually, the arms tire and you let go, and walk home drenched in a wet and heavy coat and school clothes...

The other memories of Douglas are around Hamburg (see the 2000 trips to South Africa for photos) where we would ride the ox wagon down to the beach where they got sand for building. The local Xhosa driver was amazing with his long whip, we used to believe he could crack the fly off the lead oxen (12 oxen harnessed in two's) and we would try (without injuring ourselves) to crack his long whip (unsuccessfully, I might add…)

Firsts:
First bicycle: The one I can remember was one given to me by Uncle Ottie in Pretoria. It was black with no brakes. The idea was to stick your foot in the back wheel spoke when you wanted to slow down. Many a few slices of flesh were spent learning this technique, which failed me when I came sailing around the corner and forgot we were digging a pool - and so went straight in! I then had a smart red bike in East London, then a green one - with the all important "dropped handlebars" (played soccer in the street on both of those bikes) then a blue racing bike.

Cars:
In order that i got them, in the eyar that i got them followed by the year ad model.
1980 - 1600 Volkswagen Beetle (what else - not sure what year), 1981 - 4100 Chevrolet, 1982 Toyota Corolla, 1984 Ford 1600 truck with canopy, 1985 - 83 Honda Ballade, 1987 87 Honda Civic, 1987 85 Honda Civic, 1990 84 Mercedes 230E , 1992 - 91 Mercedes 200E, 1993 moved to the USA, got a company 90 Ford Escort Wagon, 1993 - 86 Honda Civic, 1994 - 81 Honda Civic, 1995 - 90 Ford Probe, 1997 - 87 Mercedes 190E, 1996 - 96 Ford Taurus, 1998 - 98 Ford Expedition, 2005 - 2001 Mercedes C240, 2007 - 1999 BMW 328i. Horses:
I only got into riding horses late in life (25 years of age), first I had , Royal Omen a B grade show jumper, then Ace of Spades (JA jumper) in Port Elizabeth then in Johannesburg took a "green" horse (recently off the racetrack) Trelawney (16.3 hands high) and schooled him up. My claim to fame is having had Royal Omen 3 weeks and entering a competition (shouldn't you learn to ride first?) I did about 4 jumps and then jumped out the arena (over the back of a car!) My next attempt I managed about 5 jumps, fell off, was concussed, got back on and (so they tell me) finished in great style. The next time I did make it all the way around - once I learned to "bridge my reins" that is... here I am with my ribbon. Sometime I need to write about the trip with Cornelius fetching the horse from Bloemfontein!

Still coming: Paddle surfing, wind surfing ,fishing my time at Rhodes University, trips around Europe and the United States canoeing down an unexplored river in Lesotho, hunting crocodiles on the Liambezi, driving racing cars as a high speed driving instructor on the Kyalami racing circuit. Click here to download an mpg video clip.

Here is an example of how NOT to abuse your car and my company volleyball team!