How it began
I got into martial arts because of a bully. When I was a young kid, one boy kept beating me up, so my parents put me in karate. Growing up, I was enamored with the Shaolin monks: how dedicated they were, how peaceful. For a while I even dreamed of growing up, leaving, and dedicating my life to martial arts in a temple somewhere. A kid’s dream, but the respect never left.
An empty cup
I moved a lot, so which art I studied came down to opportunity: what was nearby, what made sense, and what I could build on. Over the years that meant Shorin-Ryu Karate, Tang Soo Do, Hapkido, Aikido, Ninpo Ninjutsu, and Taekwondo.
I never carried a belt from one school to the next. I’d tell a new school I’d dabbled, and I’d start over at white belt every time. You have to walk into a school with an empty cup; if your cup is full, there’s no room to learn. My goal was always to learn that instructor’s way.
More than once, a teacher pulled me aside to ask where my technique came from. One traditional Taekwondo master, from South Korea, seemed to suspect I was a rival there to steal his students. I didn’t stay long at that school. It had been a long time since I’d last trained, my mind was sure I could still throw kicks my body couldn’t, and I hurt myself. So, honestly, my belts are irrelevant.
Teachers who stayed with me
Dwight Cicione
My ninjutsu teacher ran a storefront school near the train station in Meriden, Connecticut, and I walked there after school. He was so devoted to the art that he built a small room in the back and lived there. One day a prospective student came in who, we could all tell, just wanted to fight. Dwight hadn’t heard a word of it. He came out from the back, waited quietly so he wouldn’t interrupt the students on the floor, thanked the man for his interest, and told him it wasn’t the right school for him. The man left without an argument. Dwight could get students to do things that sound impossible: handle attackers from several sides, work blindfolded. He didn’t just teach the principles; he lived them.
Chris Robinson
Chris ran a Taekwondo school in North Carolina where a lot of Marines trained while I was stationed at Cherry Point. He was a second-degree black belt, a foot taller than me and easily twice my weight, and he moved like a gazelle. I started there at white belt, and somewhere around green belt I took him down in full-contact sparring for the first time. He was ecstatic, proud of having helped get me there. I felt good about it, and a little guilty, because he didn’t know I’d trained before.
Master Frank Nelson
Master Nelson, in Orlando, is someone I’m still in touch with today. We competed together, and he had us perform demonstrations at Splendid China, which I’d never done before; until then I had only competed. Glenda trained with him too.
Still on the list
I never wanted to stop training. Life got busy, between running companies, selling them, and leading teams around the world. But Glenda and I are building out our homestead in Florida, and one of the buildings I want on it is a studio dedicated to training.