Karate-do means the way of the empty hand. This implies not only the physical aspect of karate, but also the mental and social aspects of karate.

Throughout my life, I've had an on again/off again relationship with karate and the martial arts. I studied karate for almost five years during my teenage years and quit before high school graduation when I became apatheic and rebellious. I once again returned to studying karate, kobudo (Okinawan weapons) and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu a decade later in my late twenties and quit once again after a few problems in my life and I became quite lazy and gluttonous. Always regretting that I had quit (twice!), I made a renewed vow around Christmas 2006 with my daughter to right some wrongs in my life to improve my health and spirit. One of those was to rediscover my love for karate and return to studying this martial art.

I'm once again finally back on what I feel was the path I was meant to take after taking two detours earlier in my life. It has been an amazing journey for me and I have re-dedicated my life to studying traditional karate. Currently, I am a brown belt in Yoshukai Karate and I'm training towards my black belt.

With that said, my ultimate goal is not just the black belt. I recognize at this point of adulthood that Karate-Do is a means to live one's life that has benefits in all aspects of life. There is no finish line, just the push to continously improve one's self.

Here is my story with my journey in the martial arts:

The 1980's - Shudo-Kan Karate

At a young age, I was amazed at what appeared to be the super-human feats of martial artists that I saw on television and the movies... whether it was actor/martial artists like Bruce Lee or Chuck Norris. Karate captured my imagination. This was especially true after seeing the movie, THE KARATE KID, during the "cruel cruel summer" (according to the Bananarama song) of 1984. I wanted to learn karate like Daniel-San.

As a boy, I was an average kid in my athletic skills. I wasn't a jock, but I wasn't a wimp either as I entered my teenage years. I was a 1980's version of Wally Cleaver mixed with a little Ferris Bueller if you can imagine that. I played soccer when I was a young kid, but asthma prevented me from running for long periods of time without having breathing difficulties and getting winded. So, my parents took me out of soccer and I started playing baseball. I loved baseball and still do. I played on teams for several summers until junior high. I also enjoyed swimming and riding my bicycle. I enjoyed playing outside with my friends throughout my childhood and teenage years, but it was truly difficult for me to find a single "sport" to stay active back then for various reasons. I fought with my weight, my asthma and wrestled with my attention span to find something to keep me interested. So, karate would become my "sport" at that period of time. Later in life, I discovered karate isn't just a "sport" as it is really a means to live one's life with Dojo Kun moral precepts that go hand-in-hand with my Christian beliefs.

To backtrack when I was in 8th grade sometime around the fall of 1984 (if I'm recollecting correctly), I took my first karate class at the Nelson Center in Lincoln Park with Mr. Ed Bell as my first instructor. He was a tough Springfield Cop. At the time, I had braces on my teeth and was a bit shy. I remember getting a xeroxed flyer passed out in one of my classes at Franklin Middle School that advertised this "karate camp". I just sort of took the form home and without much thought, asked my parents one night if I could start taking karate lessons. They said yes, which surprised me in retrospect, since my father wouldn't allow me to play football because he was afraid I would get hurt as he had. My father ended up with a broken nose and other injuries in his teenage years from football.

Sure, I had been in a few fist fights as a kid. I won most. I lost one that I remember as a little kid. I had always stood up to bullies growing up. I wasn't looking for trouble when I began studying karate. I wasn't initially taking karate for self-defense because I was feeling scared of anyone in particular. There was just some sort of magic about learning those moves that made me want to study it. Probably for the same reasons that fellow Memphian, Elvis Presley, wanted to study karate.

I remember fondly that fall and winter taking my first class with probably 60 other kids in the room upstairs above the ice skating rink. My Dad would take me to my first karate classes at the Nelson Center. I believe it lasted for 2 or 3 months or something like that. It seemed like a giant banquet room with cold white tile floors and a high dark ceiling. We all wore our t-shirts and sweat pants to work out in. Just rows upon rows of kids from Springfield that were lined up and executing an array of kicks, punches and blocks. My first instructor, Mr. Bell, was a no-nonsense kind of guy. My memory of him was that he was a man of few words. He was very rough, tough and gruff. Balding with a crewcut, beady eyes and a military looking mustache. Let me emphasize, he was tough. Out of that large group, I was the only one who "graduated" from that initial winter camp. I wasn't ready to end this new thing I had discovered. I decided to start taking karate full-time and transfered to a proper dojo (karate training hall).

Mr. Bell had me relocate to the N.K.A. Shudo-Kan Karate Club on Jefferson Street in Springfield during early 1985 to begin studying under his direct instructors. He was also there as one of the many black belts who assisted. My Dad bought me my first "gi" (a white karate uniform) and I was officially a white belt for the first time. I began studying under the tutelage of Sensei Doug Dennis and his karate/business partner, Sensei David Fasig. They led a large cadre of other instructors that assisted them that included Mr. Dennis' then-wife, Mrs. Sandy Dennis, as well as black belts Mr. John Geyston, Mr. Tim Griffin, and a few others whom I now forget their names as time has past and my memory fades.

Mr. Dennis, Mr. Fasig and Mr. Bell were three men who were instrumental in toughening me up and they helped give me the tools to find the confidence in myself that I still carry with me today. I do owe them a lot. So from about 8th to 11th grade, I studied Shudo-Kan Karate. I would later in life learn that Shudo-Kan was actually the "banner name" of the style known as Shuri Itosu that Grandmaster Sam A. Brock from St. Louis had brought back with him in 1963 after having served in the military. He was stationed in Japan where he studied karate under Master Toshio Hanaue. I was told it was an Okinawan style. Though I'm uncertain of the politics and reasons for change, it is my understanding is that Sensei Doug Dennis broke away later from the entity that was the N.K.A. and that the Springfield Shudo-Kan Karate Club aligned with Shito-Ryu/Shito-Kai as the style of choice but would keep the branded name.

I truly enjoyed practicing karate during those formative teenager years. I recognized that Mr. Dennis threw in some of his knowledge with Aikido and Kung-fu into the mix at times to supplement our training. I believe he was also heavily influenced by Jeet Kune Do… though it appeared to me that he was never overt about it other than casually integrating into our teaching Bruce Lee’s “three-inch” punch at times and a few other fighting techniques.

I enjoyed the traditional aspects of karate for those first three or so years. There was a well-balance of kihon, kata and kumite. In the 1980's as a teenager, I was a serious karate student up until about the time I was 17. I went to a handful of tournaments to spar and compete in kata for competition. It was at this time that it was moving more towards a "sport" for me. I wasn't perceptive to understand that karate was more than just a sport. At about this time, I won a second place medal for a sparring competition and was feeling a little proud. I had my ego put back into place when Mr. Bell told me that second place was nothing to brag about when I showed him my medal. At that point, a cold realization started to happen to me as I saw that Mr. Bell was training for real life combat situations (at one point, he discussed fighting techniques in case a 'flash grenade' every went off in my midst of combat) while Mr. Dennis, respectfully in my opinion, was competitive in sports and focused in class at that time on tournaments. I was kind of lost in the mix with purpose and direction. I recognized then that I wasn't a top student as I saw one kid my same age who was an athletic soccer player zoom up in rank quickly as he was a fierce sparring competitor. Though it sounds like jealousy on my part, I saw the attention placed on him where he was being coached and groomed. I felt forgotten as I continued to sludge through the basics each night. It is only later in life that I realize that I shouldn't have felt jealous or felt competitive against the other boy my age who was on the fast track to his black belt. It took me 25 more years to realize that the true competitor we face is our own self in our studies.

At first there with Shudo-Kan karate when I joined, there was a well balance of sparring, kata and practical self-defense that was taught, but as the 1988 Olympics approached, it seemed to me that the focus shifted to Sports Karate and tournament sparring when I believe Mr. Dennis became a part of the U.S. Olympic Karate Demonstration committee that was pushing to integrate karate into the games. There was nothing wrong with that endeavour, but the climate of the dojo changed that was not to my liking. My memory may be foggy, but that was what I remember and the feeling that I had. I mean no disrespect because I truly appreciated my time studying under Mr. Dennis.

After Mr. Bell's stern comments to me after winning a second place medal, I was re-evaluating everything. I had my first realization that I wasn’t taking karate to win trophies or to compete in tournaments any longer. I was taking karate at that time to survive as I was thinking about joining the navy. Karate became more of a "martial art" combative focus for me -- meaning military art. I wasn’t in it for the “sport" any longer. So my environment had changed and I had changed. I just felt that competition was too much of the focus as I continued in my study at the Shudo-Kan dojo. I’d rather practice controlled kumite fighting in class rather than hit the tournament circuit with other martial arts schools to win medals. In essence, I feel the same way today as I did then, though my philosophies and thoughts on karate has expanded greatly with maturity and experience.

Around this same time as I was shifting gears, some of the black belts started to leave the N.K.A. Shudo-Kan Karate Club after a falling out in which I never knew the whole story.

I was at my physical peak during my training during those teenage years at 165 pounds… but I admit that unfortunately I wasn’t at my mental best as outside bad influences started to creep in and they lured me away from those positive things in my life as I got closer to high school graduation and adulthood.

I started slacking off and I got a little irritated with how things seemed to change at the dojo and around me in life. I had further distractions in my own personal life that also pushed me into a rebellious phase of living. A diving board accident one summer caused me great injury that I still suffer from today where I had a hairline fracture in one of my lower vertebrae put me out of commission for a few months and out of practice. There was also a bully at school who I wanted to knock his block off that was frustrating me, but I found restraint. I was impatient because I wanted to haul off and kick his ass, but somehow, I just tried to ignore him.

Thus, not caring one way or another, I simply decided to quit (…though I still remember the mantra of “Quitters Never Win and Winners Never Quit”) Shudo-Kan Karate during my junior year of high school just before my 4th Kyu test. As I became an upperclassman, the "teenage wasteland" years hit me hard when all I cared about was girls, guitars and getting into mischief. Karate became an obstacle I had to endure as oppossed to a hurdle where I sought to train to better myself.

The typical lure of sex, drugs and rock 'n roll (or something like that) beckoned to me instead.

Looking back now, I recognize that I became rebellious and gave in to a lot of sinful temptations during those years where I knew better. I know right from wrong. I was raised right – but I rebelled against my parents, the Lord and every other authority figure in my life (which included my sensei). The devil really had me by the collar for a while there.

I seriously regret doing some of the things that I did. My faith in God was also in crisis during those latter teenage years. I was questioning a lot of things. From the age of 17 to 20, it is a wonder that I didn’t get into more trouble or harm myself with some of the stupid antics I involved myself in.

But that is another story and I found my way back onto the right path. This is due in part to the the Lord and the love of a girl named Roxie who would later become my wife. I mention my falling down moments only because I do truly subscribe to the notion that karate is as much a character building way of life as it is for strengthening your health. I learned from my mistakes. I’m not saying it replaces my religious faith, but karate when used correctly can help strengthen character where it instills values.

Right after this, I graduated high school, went off to college and also graduated with my bachelor's degree, married Roxie and we had our first child -- a girl named Rachel.

The 1990's - Starting over as a White Belt for the 2nd Time - Plus Kobudo and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Training

Please flash forward with me now to a decade later. Roxie and I moved back to Springfield, Illinois with our daughter who was just a year old. Over the years, I had strongly regretted that I had quit karate back when I was in high school. I missed it in college and for those first few years when I was married. I had started to gain weight and needed exercise. Now that we were back in Springfield, I wanted to return to studying karate. I had hoped that things had changed.

So it was about this time that I returned to the Shudo-Kan Karate dojo (where it had moved from Jefferson Street out to Bradforton Road going out to Farmingdale and Pleasant Plains). I think I was too timid to explore other martial art schools at that time as I only wanted to stay with things I felt comfortable and familiar with. To be honest, I knew of nothing else. It sure as heck wasn't going to be Tae Kwon Do. So, I re-joined the Shudo-Kan Karate Club and I felt like the lost prodigal son returned. I also credit Matt Jackson for encouraging me to return. He is now a black belt who was at that time one of my art students at Springfield College in Illinois.

Upon my return, Mr. Dennis demoted me back to white belt since I had been gone for a decade. I had to start all over from scratch and was afraid to question his decision. In my eyes, I was quietly being punished and forced to start over. I still had the certificate that stated and signed by him on that I had earned my 5th Kyu Green Belt on February 24, 1987 and I still feel that he should have honored my rank and allowed me to continue where I left off, but I was too timid to question him as I assumed that was his prerogative as Sensei if I wanted to learn from him (again).

I stayed in for a little more than a year this second time around where I trained and earned my yellow belt for the second time after about a nine months or more. It was humiliating at first, but I accepted it. I was training hard to just get back to that original 5th Kyu Green Belt level that I had been when I was sixteen.

With my return to Shudo-Kan in the late 1990’s, I had also started to take supplemental martial arts training in the same Shudo-Kan dojo with a black belt instructor named Greg Giddings. At that time, Sensei Dennis gave Mr. Giddings permission to train students outside the traditional Shudo-Kan karate classes in other martial arts forms. One of the supplemental studies had to be an Okinawan style. So Greg Giddings instructed a Kobudo class that focused on the five traditional Okinawan weapons along with other “found” weapons systems. I trained in that system for over a year and specifically focused on the bo staff and nunchaku where I tested and rose in rank. Giddings taught this in the Shudo-Kan dojo on Saturday mornings after the formal Shudo-Kan classes.

I also took private lessons with Giddings in the art of ground fighting in the Gracie style of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu that abandoned traditional Japanese discipline for an informal Western style working relationship with the instructor and other students. During that era, there were no belts issued. No bowing. It was a handshake and then you hit the mats. All the formality was shucked out the door. Giddings taught this in the dojo on Saturday mornings very early before the formal Shudo-Kan classes began.

For me, working with Giddings for that year and a half was a beneficial to my martial arts training to work in different forms. I still remember a bit of the ground-fighting today that has stayed with me. I actually enjoyed this training as this was my favorite experience in my second and final journey as a member of the Shudo-Kan Karate Club. Greg Giddings school was called the GMAP Submissions Fighting system and he went on to train local martial arts and national cage champion fighter, Jason Reinhardt. I didn't realize it at the time, but that this was the beginnings of the modern era of MMA fighting. I got out just as I was starting to get good.

Again, I retain a great admiration and respect for Sensei Dennis to this day, but it was a different environment. No disrespect intended, but it had become too commercialized as a business and it was being turned into a sports facility with basketball and volleyball courts, etc. The dojo experience felt lost in the shuffle. The other black belts I had known growing up had left. One of them, Mr. Fasig, had left the organization before my return in 1997 and started his own dojo where he now teaches Okinawan Shorin-Ryu in Springfield. In the late 1990's, I once again didn’t feel like my needs were meshing with the direction that the Shudo-Kan Karate Club was heading. Plus at this time, I was experiencing some marital problems and trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.

By 1999, I was spending too much time away from home and it put a strain on my marriage. We were buying a new house. Roxie was pregnant with our second child and I was basically gone all day on Saturday with my martial arts training. Plus, my fledgling comic book career was beginning to take off… so when I felt pressure and was losing interest… I quit once again. I just wasn’t enjoying the Shudo-Kan Karate experience this second time around and I finally think that my resentment that I had to start over as white belt with Sensei Dennis rubbed me wrong because I was impatient and felt I was wrongly penalized -- whether justified in my thoughts or not.