I was thinking of how we as individuals and a society are dependant on money to survive, live and prosper. Having lived through the stress associated with financial bereavement I feel acutely aware of the need to to strive for monetary success. But when my son recently said to me “I wish money wasn’t a thing Dad”, it caused me to reflect upon the things I valued. Was the need for financial freedom imposing restrictions on our way of life? Was it creating a negative influence on the world I was bringing him into?
I came to the conclusion money was required to function and take my family forward for generations to come. No it was not the driving force. Clearly love was at the heart of that engine room. Yet what if I could create wealth from investing in a noble cause?
Imugene has touched many people in so many ways. Each and every one of us on this thread has their own IMU story. Here’s mine…
Ben’s Prologue
So I said to my brother in law, “We respect what you do, as a full time share investor. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not cutting you down, but Dad doesn’t want to invest until you can find him a stock that goes from 1 cent to $1”. And with that we laughed, polished off his best bottle of Leconfield Red, and retired to our seperate rooms, in the knowledge that this may well not occur in Dads lifetime.
Five years later, having since heard myself about the stock Imugene (IMU), into which my wife's brother had poured his heart, soul and the best part of his retirement monies, he appeared upon the doorstep at Dads property.
“I found that stock you were looking for”, he said, with a wry smile that expressed more satisfaction than excitement.
I laughed.
“Come inside”, I said.
“And tell us all about it”.
It was early 2020, and having met Professor Yuman Fong, Axel Hoos, Lesley Chong and the rest of the IMU players, including Paul Hopper, he was well briefed on the opportunity for capital gain within the IMU structure. But Dad was still somewhat cautious. Being over 80 he’d heard of one or two pipe dreams in his time, and traversed the odd dry gully in the interim. And he was either too proud or too suspicious of what was on the table to gather it in. Yes having recently been full of cancer himself, he was accepting of the need for a meaningful treatment. But he was none the less hesitant.
Within moments the wind changed. The dogs paused from their incessant barking at our strangers presence. The tea leaves began to turn, as if to signal the arrival of a long lost cove. Suddenly the story of CF33 appeared from above our candles light . ’Twas the last card in my brother in laws deck. And what a card it was. For anyone who has suffered mercilessly at the hands of “Jack the Dancer”, the prospect of Fong’s mind blowing, monumental, exquisite virus, designed to blast your malignant, life threatening tumours up, from every orifice of your canvas, was to put it simply, life changing.
“So he had a 97% percent success rate in mice across 60 cancer lines?” My father questioned.
“That he did”, came the reply.
I don’t think Dad slept much that night. However the drought, bushfires and incessant heat were not to blame. It was a dream, a glimmer of hope, a chance, but a promise and opportunity that kept him from sleep. Igniting his desire to live. To follow the science. To see CF33 through to its conclusion. To trust in Yuman Fong’s optimism.
The next day we headed into the Wales Bank, as Dad sometimes still calls it, or Westpac as Mum refers to it, and commenced our journey with Imugene. On the way back home my mind was awash with thought. My brother in law had really chanced his arm this time. And I guess by now, so had we. The road up to a share price of $1 appeared to be as far as the eye could see. The pathway back to zero, far to close for comfort.
“How much money did he say the company had in the bank?”
I couldn’t remember.
I sat in the back of the old Ford, watching as starving cows stood in laneways aside weathered iron bark fence posts, waiting for the stockman to bring them their daily bale of hay. The clouds scattered on my horizon, promising much but delivering little.
I thought of cancer patients laying in hospital beds worldwide, as Dad had been. Alone, scared, frightened for their future. Medicine affording them such limited opportunities.
My mind wanders back to today. Upon reflection our journey with Imugene has been a rewarding one. Along the way we have learned of the integrity, passion and foresight inherent within the IMU team, from the top down. Yes their CEO Lesley Chongdoes care, yes she does have the cancer sufferers best wishes at heart. And yes she works tirelessly to score all shots on goal.
“Are they all going to hIt the back of the net?” You may ask.
Of course not.
“But if Yuman’s CF33 has the final say, we may not need a net.”
Do your own research. Seek Investment advice
NB. Before to long we wish for IMU’s share price and their ascendency into the ASX 200 to become a thing of the past. For stories of Imugene’s post clinical cancer patients freed from within the grips of despair, to assume their mantle of lead on our evening news. Leaving the financial report to assume its rightful place, toward the end of the bulletin…
I would enjoy nothing more than to bring you their Imugene stories…
(20min delay)
