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CHAPTER FIVE

Okinawa And Elsewhere

As it turned out, Suenaka Sensei’s fear that moving to Okinawa would seriously curtail his study at the Hombu was unrealized. The air force was still actively encouraging servicemen and women to pursue the martial arts, as part of fitness and survival training for air crews and related personnel. When Suenaka arrived at Kadena in May of 1961, he found more sympathy than resistance from his command when it came to furthering his martial education. Again, because of the nature of his duties, Suenaka was able to take what is known as “permissive TDY” (temporary duty), meaning he was given permission by his CO to take occasional personal leave; granted, not as frequently as when he was stationed in Tokyo, but still, he managed to visit and study with O’Sensei four or five times a year, for several weeks at a time, serving as an uchi deshi and, later, a personal deshi to Tohei Sensei. Suenaka recalls one of his more humorous experiences with O’Sensei from this time, involving Tendokan aikido founder Kenji Shimizu:

“It was in the spring of 1964. It was the Aiki-Matsuri, the Aiki Festival, which was held every year in Iwama, at the aiki shrine. People came from all over the world to pay homage to the Aiki-Jinja and O’Sensei. There were about two or three hundred people there—Robert Frager, Robert Nadeau, Terry Dobson, several instructors from the U.S., although I can’t remember anyone from Hawaii being there. But anyway, Kenji Shimizu and I went there early in the morning, around eight o’clock, to wait for O’Sensei. I think he arrived at about noon, by car, and all the uchi deshi were waiting around for him.

Tendokan aikido founder Kenji Shimizu and Suenaka Sensei at Iwama; April, 1964.

Shimizu Sensei and Suenaka Sensei at Shimizu’s dojo in Setagaya, Japan; Winter, 1993

“The car pulled up right in front of the dojo, and as it happened Shimizu and I were standing right there. So when the car door opened and O’Sensei stepped out, we reached forward and each of us took one of his hands in ours, to help him, and walked him up the stairs to the dojo. By that time most everyone besides the deshi were waiting for O’Sensei inside the dojo, and it was a small dojo, too, even smaller than it is today, so the place was packed, the walls were lined with people. So Shimizu and I helped O’Sensei to the middle of the mat, and when we got there we continued to hold his hands. I don’t know why; maybe we were nervous or something. But O’Sensei looked around at all the people there, and then he slowly looked over at me, then at Shimizu, and he had to be thinking, ‘What are these two idiots doing still holding my hands?’ And then suddenly, wham! He executed a double sayu-nage, his arms came up and back and Shimizu and I flew backwards. I mean, our feet came up off the mat and we somersaulted and slammed into the tatami. It hit us like a freight train! And there was O’Sensei looking down at us, and he said, “Why were you holding my hands? What, do you think I’m a useless old man, I can’t stand up on my own?” He wasn’t really angry with us, but he wasn’t really joking, either. He was scolding us, ‘What’s the matter with you two?,’ that sort of attitude. Of course, Shimizu and I were bowing: ‘Hai O’Sensei! Gomen nasai!’ (‘Yes, O’Sensei, I’m sorry!’). We hopped right back up and took our places by his side again, but we didn’t hold his hands! And then he told us, ‘Now, go sit down.’ It was pretty funny.”

Immediately upon his arrival at Kadena, Suenaka began teaching aikido in the base gymnasium, gradually accumulating students from base personnel. He did this with O’Sensei’s blessing, secured prior to his departure from Japan, as the Founder was eager to introduce aikido to Okinawa. Twice before, aikidoka had traveled to the birthplace of Japanese karate to promote the art there, only to quickly be sent packing by the local karateka; literally, challenged on the mat and defeated in single combat. Each time, the instigator of these long trips home to the Hombu was Fusei Kise.

Born in 1935, Fusei Kise first began studying martial arts at age twelve, augmenting his primary training in later years with instruction in Shorinji kempo and Shorin-ryu karate under many of Okinawa’s greatest living masters, including Shorinji-ryu founder Zenryo Shimabukuro, and the late Hakutsuru Shorin-ryu and Matsumura Seito Shorin-ryu Kobudo Grandmaster Hohan Soken. By the time Suenaka arrived in Okinawa, Kise was well-advanced in these and other karate styles. Today, he is one of the art’s most celebrated and respected practitioners, and continues in Okinawa to teach his own style of Shorin-ryu Kenshinkan karate, which he founded upon the retirement of Soken from active teaching in 1978, and also has numerous schools in the United States. A short, powerfully-built, and somewhat gruff man, Kise Sensei cared little for words when it came to expounding the virtues of any given style, preferring instead to see how it fared in kumite (sparring), or direct hand-to-hand combat. The test was simple. If you could beat him, your style was worthwhile. If not, shut up and go away.

Sueneka Sensei with Shorin-ryu Kenshinkan karate founder Fusei Kise in Jacksoneille, N.C., July, 1997.

Though unforgiving, such a test is undeniably fair. The first aikido practicioner, a yondan (fourth degree black belt) in both aikido and karate who had traveled from Japan specifically to introduce aikido to Okinawa, was unable to weather the trial, nor was the second, an even more celebrated aikidoka. In their defense, it should be noted that both men, though skilled and sincere, boasted little experience outside the controlled strictures of the. dojo, and so were perhaps as much mentally ill-prepared as they were physically to meet Kise’s blunt challenge. Consequently, its not surprising that, at the time of Suenaka’s arrival in Okinawa, the local opinion of aikido was poor, at best. This, however, would soon change.

Fusei Kise was what the air force termed a “third country national,” or indigenous worker, and was employed as an electrician on the air base. Given that Suenaka was an electrician as well, it was inevitable that the two would eventually meet. In fact, Suenaka found himself assigned to the same shop in which Kise worked. Suenaka remembers Kise as “a sort of real stand-offish guy, almost arrogant, at least during our first meeting.” The two exchanged little beyond the usual pleasantries during their first meeting. Neither knew that they would soon become friends, brought together by the very disparity in martial styles that had thus far made Kise the bane of aikido on Okinawa.

Suenaka Sensei taught aikido in Zemke Gymnasium, one of two gyms on Kadena. Zemke Gym had two levels, and he taught on the upper floor. Not long after he first met Kise Sensei, Suenaka was in the middle of teaching a class when he heard a disturbance on the lower floor:

“I heard some shouting downstairs, and I went to look,’ recalls Suenaka. There was a big group of karate students, about fifty people in the class. I had my students continue training and I walked downstairs; it was Kise Sensei. I said, ‘Hey, what are you doing?,’ and he said, ‘This is my karate class—what are you doing up there?’ And I said, “That’s my aikido class.’ He said, Aikido, eh? Hmmmm.’ He didn’t say very much then. So I went back upstairs and continued.”

Perhaps it was because Suenaka was a fellow employee in the electrical shop that Kise opted not to challenge him that very night. Perhaps it was because he liked Suenaka personally, brief though their acquaintance was at that point, more than he had the previous aikidoka. Later, it may have been because both found they shared common experiences in their study of the martial arts; beginning study in a variety of styles at an early age, a preference for deeds over words, and a sincere (and no doubt purely professional) love of a good street fight. Whatever the reasons, Kise Sensei never formally challenged Suenaka to physically defend his art. Indeed, after their meeting in the gym, they found themselves spending more and more time together, both on the job and socially, becoming fast friends. Still, there were implied challenges, as Suenaka recalls:

“There were a lot of times that he commented negatively about aikido. There were many times that he indirectly challenged me, and of course, I took the challenge and said, ‘Let’s do it!’ And he would say, ‘No, we’re friends.’ We never got into a real fight. We got into verbal confrontations many times, but never a physical confrontation. We were really just teasing each other.”

Let it not be said, though, that Fusei Kise wasn’t prepared to fight when pressed—or insulted:

“We were in the squadron day room. There was a pool table there, snack bar, people were playing cards. We were sitting down, watching television. I was in uniform, but of course Kise Sensei was a third country national, so he was in street clothes. This great big guy walked in the room—he recognized that I was a GI, from the uniform, even though I looked Japanese, but he saw Kise, and he said ‘You goddamn gook! What the hell are you doing in here?’ Kise Sensei heard him, but he didn’t understand a lot of English, he just looked up and said, ‘Huh?’ And the guy said ‘You deaf? I said what are you doing in here?’ So I said to the guy, ‘Hey, what’s your problem? He’s the night electrician. He belongs in here, he works here!’ And the guy says, ‘What the hell they got a gook doing that job for?’ By that time Kise Sensei knew something was up, and he asks me, ‘What did he say?’ I said, ‘He called you a gook. I think he wants to kick your butt.’ And Kise said ‘What?!’ Then he got up, his eyes got small and he turned red as a beet, and I thought, ‘Uh-oh.’ So I turned to the guy and I said, ‘You better get out of here, now. He may be small, but he can kill you and me right now, just like that.’ And then the guy’s eyes got real big, and he said ‘No shit?’ And voom!, he was out the door. Later on I saw the guy again, and he asked me, ‘Who was that guy?’ So I told him. I said, ‘If that man had gotten ahold of you, you would have been lying in little pieces. And by the way, I’m Oriental, and I don’t like the word gook either.’ And he said, ‘Oh, man! I’m sorry!’ And he went back and apologized to Kise Sensei, and Kise accepted. He was pretty good about stuff like that. He could be pretty mean when he wanted to, but he knew his limits as to what he could and couldn’t do on the air base. Now, had it happened in town, the outcome would have been very different!”

By this time, Kise was familiar with Suenaka’s aikido, as Suenaka was familiar with Kise’s karate, both men having observed the other’s classes and technique with an educated, critical eye. Though neither man’s machismo would allow them to openly admit it, both were impressed with the other’s prowess and technique. Of the aikido Suenaka taught at the time, he notes: “It wasn’t like the aikido we have today; fairly similar, but probably a lot harder, a little more violent, so it impressed him.”

As the months passed, Suenaka’s student body outgrew the space available in Zemke Gym, forcing him to begin another class at Kadena’s second gym, McConnell Gym. At the same time Suenaka began entertaining thoughts of opening a dojo off-base, in town. For this, he would need O’Sensei’s blessing, which he secured upon his first return trip to the Hombu, less than a month after his move to Okinawa (“I didn’t waste any time. . . . I think then maybe I had more guts than brains.”). Again, the Founder was eager to introduce aikido to Okinawa, more so after the previous failed ventures. Ironically, it was a karateka, Shorinji-ryu karate founder Zenryo Shimabukuro, who guided Suenaka in this pursuit.

21-year-old Suenaka Sensei demonstrating ikkyo on student Allen Wagstajfin Zemke Gym, Kadena Air Force Base, Okinawa; Fall, 1961.

Suenaka first encountered Shimabukuro Sensei through Kiyotaka Nema, owner of the local sporting goods store where Suenaka purchased his gis and other supplies. (Although Fuse Kise was a student of Shimabukuro’s, as noted earlier, Suenaka hadn’t met him.) Suenaka mentioned to Nema his desire to open a dojo in town. “Nema said, ‘Oh, you don’t want to do that.’ He warned me. He said, ‘I don’t think aikido is going to go over very big in town. You want to stay on the base.’ But I told him I did, and he said, ‘I know a person who can help you.’” Nema took Suenaka to Shimabukuro’s dojo, about five miles outside of the air base. After observing a class, Nema introduced the two and told Shimabukuro of Suenaka’s plans. It’s remarkable that Shimabukuro, one of a scant handful otjudan (tenth degree black belt) in the area, in addition to being one of Okinawa’s most highly regarded karateka, was so willing to help. “He was a great master. For someone of his stature to say, ‘Okay, young man, I’ll help you,’ was really something,” Suenaka says. “He could have just as easily said ‘Look kid, why don’t you come and learn under me?’ But he respected me for wanting to teach aikido, and we became good friends. I had a lot more respect for him than he did for me, I’m sure, because of what he did for me.”

Shimabukuro Sensei called on a friend who was vice-president of a local bank and learned of a building in nearby Nakanomachi that would suit Suenaka’s needs, and his modest income. The low concrete structure housed a laundry in the left half, with the right half empty. There was a sliding, wooden warehouse-style door, four windows, no bathroom (“We went outside in the back of the building. All the plants there grew nice and green!”) and fifteen-hundred square feet of space; not a palace, but it would do, especially since rent was just fifteen dollars a month. Suenaka signed the lease.

Now that he had a building, Suenaka needed mats to make it a dojo. Again, Shimabukuro was there to help, putting Suenaka in touch with a local tatami (rice straw mat) maker who was a good friend of his, and from whom Shimabukuro purchased his mats. The tatami maker was more than willing to provide Suenaka with the mats:

“He said, ‘They’re special made . . . how many do you need?’ He was selling the mats for about five dollars each, which was ah incredibly low price even then, but he said he’d give them to me for about two-fifty apiece! Today, a standard residential tatami is about two-hundred fifty dollars, each. The tatami maker was selling residential tatami for two-and-a-half dollars, and the thick judo mats for five, so he was giving them to me for half price, and it took him the better part of a day to make just one, because he made them all by hand. But I didn’t know any of this. I said, ‘Boy, I’m gonna need about forty mats . . . that’s a hundred dollars!’ All he said was, ‘Please, come in, watch.’ And I watched him make a mat from scratch. I watched him gather the straw and bundle it, twist it, compressing it down, all by hand. After about two hours of watching him, he hadn’t even begun forming the mat yet. And that’s when I bowed and said, ‘I’m very sorry. Please forgive me. I should pay you more!’ But he said, ‘No, I’ll give you a discount, that’s okay. You’re a friend of a friend.’ I felt so humble, so small. They were exceptional mats, and I learned another lesson.”

Although Suenaka was grateful for Shimabukuro’s help, he had little time to further their relationship. He did attend several classes at Shimabukuro Sensei’s dojo, both out of curiosity and respect, and Shimabukuro observed one of Suenaka’s aikido classes. “He liked aikido. He said, ‘Aikido has nice, flowing moves.’ I think he was being straight with me. He was a very respected man in the area, so he had no need to lie.”