My Kenpo Karate Roots

(Black Belt Magazine May 1990 V-28 No. 5)

I was 16 years old when one of the members of the church I belonged to introduced me to Kenpo Karate.  Frank Chow told a few of us how e had beaten a local bully renowned for his streetfighting prowess.  The bully was big and as solid as granite, and not until Frank demonstrated the strategy he used did we believe his David-and-Goliath story.

Once convinced, I was instantly intrigued by this Oriental art and began studying under Frank.  I had boxed and been in street altercations quite a few times myself, so I questioned, disagreed, and stood corrected by Frank in my quest for knowledge.

I soon recognized the value Kenpo could have on the streets.  Having learned judo and treasuring its merits, I nevertheless saw that Kenpo was superior in handling two of more men at one time.  Judo ties you up with one man for too long, exposing your vulnerable areas, whereas Kenpo offered explosive action with minimal target exposure.

I looked forward to every lesson, until one day Frank told me he could no longer be my teacher.  Dejected and disheartened, I wondered what I would do now that my Kenpo training had come to and end.

Frank was pleased to see my reaction, and explained that he had merely taken me as far as he could.  He was not qualified to go beyond the lessons he had already taught.

But my Kenpo training was far from over.  Frank told me to further my Kenpo education with his brother, who was a top instructor in Honolulu.  With mixed emotions, I visited William K. S. Chow.  I found him conducting a class at the Nuuanu YMCA, and was impressed with what I saw.  From the moment I witnessed William Chow move, and appraised the ability of his students, a strong spiritual feeling penetrated the very depths of my soul.  Kenpo, I knew, would become my life's work.

Fighting against opponents with different reaches, mannerisms, and methods of executing moves forced me to learn motion thoroughly.  The ability to protect and hit from any angle thrilled me to no end, because this knowledge increased my chances of victory on the street.  Adriano and Joe Emperado were Chow's first graduating black belts in Kenpo karate, and I looked upon them with envy and respect.  It was Adriano who, after his brother's death, formed Kajukenbo an offshoot of Chow's Kenpo system, with advocates throughout the world.

Many students branched away from Chow’s system, yet each had a greatest respect for his ability.  Chow was not tall man, but he was fast, precise and powerful.  He never wasted motion and reminded me of a mongoose fighting a snake.  His defensive moves were never exaggerated.  He allowed an opponent’s punch to miss him just slightly, then bam – he’d be in at the man's vital areas.

I wanted to learn as much as I could, so I followed Chow, questioned him, bugged him, and it paid off.  He stressed the need for modifications and additions, and introduced me to key movements which set me on the road to becoming a creative innovator.  He knew that Kenpo was only in its infant stages, and felt it must be modified to meet the needs of modern America.

I treasured the time I spent with Chow and the revelations I obtained from our conversations and workouts.  As I look back, I cannot thank him enough for setting me on the path of logic and realistic thinking.

Chow's classes were loaded with great practitioners, and I think many of them for beating some sense into my head - Fred Lara, Manny de la Cruz, Ike Kaawa, Bobby Lowe (who now represents Mas Oyama in Hawaii), Masashi Oshiro (goju-ryu representative for the late Gogen Yamaguchi), and Paul Yamaguchi, as well as others who have passed on.  I learned much from these men and then matured into the martial arts practitioner I am today.  The workouts, demonstrations, and parties are all in my past, but they are etched into my mind for all eternity.

After two years at Brigham Young University, I was drafted into the Korean War in 1951 and managed to be stationed in Hawaii for two-and-a-half years of my three-year hitch with the U.S. Coast Guard.  I could now continue my studies with Chow on a full-time basis!  Far from tiring of Kenpo, the more I studied, the more intrigued I became.

On several occasions, Kenpo saved my life.  I then knew firsthand that Kenpo worked, my desire to teach on the mainland grew stronger.  I visualized the benefits others would gain and the confidence and character it could instill in our youth.

I talked with William Chow about the possibility of opening Kenpo schools throughout the continental United States after I graduated from Brigham Young.  I felt that a university degree was essential to solidify our plans because it would discourage others from looking upon us as mere pugilists.  Chow thought the plan was feasible and was willing to take up residence on the mainland.

I eventually established a successful school in Pasadena, California, and was ready to bring Chow to the continental United States to pursue our plan.  In September, 1959, I flew to Hawaii for the first time in five years and went to see Chow, reminding him of our expansion plans.  Chow told me I had his blessing that I was to go it alone.

My heart dropped to my stomach as Chow explained that he didn't think he could adjust to the new environment.  He was basically shy and felt he would be out of place on the mainland.  As much as I tried to change his mind, he stuck to his conviction.  I honored his wish and commenced an expansion program on my own.

Full-scale success did not come easily; Chow's change of heart was only one of the discouraging moments that were to follow.  Yet determination and perseverance made my life fruitful.  Kenpo remains as vibrant to me now as it was when I first began my studies, and its possibilities promised to intrigue me for a lifetime.