A fight with the world
The Humpty Dumpty Man was the name given to me in 1988 by the head of a multi-trauma team of surgeons that operated on me for five hours at a Belfast hospital, putting me back together again.
At twenty-five years of age, a high-speed, head-on collision with an articulated lorry had devastated me physically and mentally.
Had I not been travelling so fast I would have been decapitated.
In a one-in-a-million near-death experience, my life was saved twice that day.
In another one-in-a-million chance my pay ascended from £1 a week as a bookie’s runner at my family’s Irish pub, Kate’s Bar, Omagh, Co. Tyrone, to $1m a year at the American investment bank, Merrill Lynch & Co. Inc.
And then, in what I would later call my George Best moment, I went on sabbatical from Merrill in May 2002 and never went back.
I gave up the one-million-dollar salary and retired to a darkened room to write my life story.
