Character You Can Finance: Essex Lease Charity Golf Classic

The Challenge

The kid on the high ropes course has a scar across his chest where the port used to be.

He’s forty feet up, clipped into a safety harness, laughing with three other kids who also have scars. Below, a counselor shouts encouragement. The kid reaches for the next platform. Makes it. High-fives all around.

This is Camp Kindle. A sanctuary in the Alberta foothills where kids who’ve survived cancer get to just be kids. No hospitals. No treatments. No one staring at their bald heads or asking careful questions.

Eighty-four percent of children survive cancer. One hundred percent live with at least one chronic health problem. That gap—between survival and thriving—is where Kids Cancer Care Foundation of Alberta operates.

Essex Lease Financial Corporation had been funding that gap for five years through their annual charity golf tournament. By 2023, the event was raising $140,000. One hundred and fifty-two golfers. Twenty-four Essex employee volunteers. Blue-chip sponsors: ATB, Loblaws, BDC, Canada Life.

The money was real. The impact was measurable. But they had a problem.

How do you film a party when the reason for the party is pediatric cancer?

Essex needed a video that could do three contradictory things:

1. Celebrate the event - Make sponsors and golfers feel appreciated
2. Prove the impact - Show where the money goes and why it matters
3. Honor the gravity - Handle survivor stories with dignity, not exploitation

Get the tone wrong and you either trivialize cancer or guilt-trip golfers. Too sad and sponsors don’t return. Too celebratory and it feels obscene.

Essex Lease isn’t a typical finance company. They’re an independent equipment lender built on a philosophy of “looking beyond the numbers.” They evaluate loan applications based on character and relationships, not just credit scores. They finance excavators for construction companies. Log loaders for forestry operations. Heavy haulers for the oil patch.

Their five-year commitment to Kids Cancer Care was proof of that character-first philosophy. They weren’t chasing a one-time PR win. They were in it for the long haul.

The video had to prove that. Visually. Without saying it.

The Solution

We filmed character the same way Essex finances it. One layer at a time.

The Opening: Start With the Stakes

We opened at Camp Kindle. Not the golf course.

Footage of kids on high ropes. Around campfires. Canoeing. Faces with scars, patchy hair growing back, doing normal things without explanation.

Then Ryane Nethery, a former camper, speaking to camera:

“Going to Camp Kindle gave me a sense of a normal childhood. I didn’t have to worry about being bullied. I didn’t have to worry about being on treatment.”

That quote established everything. This isn’t about curing cancer. Hospitals handle survival. Camp handles thriving. The restoration of childhood after it’s been stolen by treatment.

We shot Camp Kindle footage specifically to contrast with what was coming next. Camp is rugged. Wild. Dusty. The golf course would be manicured. Pristine. Controlled. The visual gap between the two locations mirrored the narrative: the polished corporate world funding the messy freedom of being a kid.

The Bridge: Ross Sten and the Character Thesis

Then we cut to Carnmoney Golf Club.

Aerial drone shot. Sweeping across lush fairways. The winding river. Essex banners snapping in the wind. The scale of the operation visible from altitude.

Ross Sten, CEO of Essex Lease, appears on camera. Polo shirt. Calm. Direct.

We asked him why Essex commits year after year. He said:

“Essex isn’t interested in a flash-in-the-pan success. We’re in it for the long haul. I can’t say enough about what Kids Cancer Care does for these families.”

That line carried double weight. It explained the charity commitment. And it reinforced Essex’s business model without ever mentioning loans. Long-term relationships. Character-based decisions. The same lens they use to evaluate a borrower is the same lens they use to evaluate a charity partner.

Ross became the hinge. The bridge between the two worlds—camp and course, cause and celebration. His presence gave the audience permission to feel both the gravity and the joy.

The Party: Letting the Event Speak

Then we unleashed the energy.

Fast cuts. Tee shots. Putts dropping. High-fives. Beer tent laughter. The silent auction tables crowded with bidders. The MEGA 50/50 raffle board climbing toward a massive jackpot.

The MEGA 50/50 was Ross’s innovation. He convinced six different KCC fundraising partners to pool their raffles into one giant collaborative draw. It turned a local charity raffle into a regional event. That kind of business problem-solving applied to fundraising—that’s Essex’s character showing up in the details.

Filming a raffle is visual death. A board. Numbers. Static. We made it move with reaction shots. Golfers checking tickets. Anticipation building. The winner’s disbelief when the number is called. We used motion graphics in post to show the jackpot climbing in real time.

The audio mix mattered here. Natural sound of golf balls cracking off tees. Applause. Cheers. We layered in upbeat music that built energy without drowning the authenticity.

The Reveal: Numbers and the Next Chapter

We closed with the dinner reception.

The cheque presentation. The reveal of the total.

$140,280.

Revenue had doubled from the previous year. The room erupts. Ross holding the oversized cheque. Standing ovation.

Then the kicker: the announcement of the “Essex Excavator” Treehouse at Camp Kindle.

A portion of future funds would go toward building a specific structure. Named after the company. A treehouse.

The irony was perfect. Essex finances excavators for a living. Their legacy at camp would be a treehouse kids would climb for decades. It gave the fundraising a tangible endpoint. Not “money for programs.” Money for a structure with a name.

The Wind Problem

Golf tournaments happen at high noon. Harsh overhead sun. Deep shadows under hats. Unflattering light.

We shot all interviews in open shade—under tent canopies or clubhouse overhangs—to get soft, even light on faces. For the course action, we used ND filters on drones and cameras to prevent blown-out whites on shirts and sky.

Then the wind. Southern Alberta golf courses are exposed. No tree cover. Relentless westerlies.

Covering 152 Golfers Across 18 Holes

You can’t be everywhere.

We identified key groups: Ross’s foursome, major sponsor groups, families with KCC connections. We used golf carts to leapfrog ahead—film the tee shot, race to the green, catch the putt.

The drone gave us the scale shots. Aerials showing the full course, the density of golfers, the beauty of the venue. Those shots justified the ticket price for participants and validated sponsor investment.

The Tonal Tightrope

The hardest part wasn’t technical. It was emotional.

We were interviewing families who’d lived through pediatric cancer. We couldn’t exploit that for cheap emotion. But we couldn’t ignore it, or the event would feel hollow.

The solution was sequencing and control.

We didn’t intercut a tearful cancer story with a beer-chugging celebration shot. We used Ross as the emotional buffer. His interview transitioned from serious to celebratory, giving the audience permission to feel both.

And we let the families control their narrative. No leading questions. We asked what Camp Kindle meant to them and let them talk. Ryane’s quote about “not having to worry” emerged organically.

That’s what documentary-style means. You don’t script authenticity. You create the space for it.

The Result

The video became the stewardship report Essex didn’t know they needed.

Sponsors saw themselves on screen. Golfers relived the day. Donors saw exactly where their money went. The video answered the question every charity faces: “Does this actually matter?”

The answer was measurable.

By 2025, the fifth annual tournament raised $235,031. Cumulative total: $750,000.

The University of Calgary quantified Camp Kindle’s social return on investment at 4:1. For every dollar raised, four dollars of social value—confidence, mental health, family stability—were created.

That’s $3 million in social value generated by this tournament series.

Ross Sten’s MEGA 50/50 became permanent infrastructure. Other KCC fundraisers across Alberta adopted the collaborative model. An innovation born at a golf tournament changed how charity raffles worked province-wide.

The “Essex Excavator” Treehouse broke ground in 2024. Kids at camp that summer helped design it. The structure will stand for decades. A climbable monument to a finance company that decided character mattered more than quarterly returns.

For Essex, the video worked on three levels.

Client acquisition: It proved Essex doesn’t just talk about character-based lending. They live it. Potential borrowers saw a company that commits for the long haul. If they treat a charity partner with that loyalty, they’ll treat a client the same way.

Talent recruitment: The video showcased culture. Twenty-four employees volunteering on a Saturday. The CEO running a raffle. That’s a workplace people want to join.

Partner stewardship: It gave KCC powerful content for their own fundraising. The video wasn’t just about Essex. It was proof of what’s possible when corporate partners go all in.

Ross Sten said it directly after the 2024 event: “The video helped our sponsors see the full picture. It’s one thing to write a cheque. It’s another to see the kids at camp. That connection is what brings people back.”

The 2024 and 2025 events built on that momentum. New sponsors came aboard because they’d seen the video. The proof was visible.

The Lesson

We’re based in Lethbridge. “Coalbanks” comes from the coal mining history of the Oldman River valley. Grit. Industry. The kinds of businesses that built this region.

Essex Lease finances that same world. Excavators. Log loaders. Heavy haulers. The equipment that moves dirt and builds infrastructure.

We understood their clients because we come from the same soil.

And we understood their problem. You can’t fake character. You either have it or you don’t. And when you have it, the only way to prove it is to show it.

That’s what this project taught us.

The best brand videos aren’t about the brand. They’re about what the brand does when no one’s forcing them to do it.

Essex didn’t have to commit to Kids Cancer Care for five years. They didn’t have to innovate on raffle mechanics. They didn’t have to name a treehouse after the excavators they finance.

But they did. Because character isn’t a marketing strategy. It’s who you are when the camera’s off.

Our job was to turn the camera on.

And when you film character honestly—when you balance the weight of cancer with the lightness of community, when you show the thread between corporate philosophy and a kid laughing on a high ropes course—you don’t just make a video.

You make proof.

Proof that “looking beyond the numbers” isn’t a tagline. It’s four-to-one measurable.

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