Sensei James Lilley, Kyoshi
Hachidan (8th Degree Black Belt)
When I was assigned to the 12th Marines in Okinawa I had just a taste of karate before my arrival, but it was enough to kick my interest into high gear. I didn’t want just any school, I wanted the best available when I got settled, (just a few days.) That’s when I talked with Len Neidert, who also wanted to get into a karate class but had been very unhappy with what he’d found in his first month in Okinawa. We decided the best way to find a good school was ask a cab driver and that’s exactly what we did—on a rainy night in November, 1963 we asked to be taken to the best school that the driver knew of. He drove toward Naha and after what seemed liked an eternity, turned left down a dirt road and stopped about a hundred yards or so off the main highway. He pointed to his left and said, “Back there. That’s where you want to go."
Shortly we were seated across from a man who wasn’t really many years older than us and who’d introduced himself as Takeshi Miyagi. We learned right away that he was a 5th Degree Black Belt and we immediately told him we wanted to join his class. He stared at us for a few seconds and said, “No American ever stays in my class. It’s too tough, too disciplined.” He went on to say, “Even if you stay, don’t expect a promotion. You’ll never be anything but a white belt.” So right away that meant a Black Belt was out of the question. But he wasn’t finished yet. He went on to say how Americans had come to his class and left after the first night or first week, but guaranteed us that no American had ever made it beyond three months. He continued to tell us that we shouldn’t even bother to show up for his classes because he expected us to be like everyone else and quit. Therefore it would be a waste of his time and that of his serious students, all of whom were Okinawan, for us to even come there and fill a space. I’m not sure how long he spoke of the reasons for us to stay away, but it seemed like an hour. Yet after all of this he said, “But if you are serious about learning and learning the right way, you come back tomorrow night and I’ll teach you.”
In spite of all the negatives he hurled at us, we were there very early the following evening for our first lesson. Little did we know what we were in for. Not only was he skeptical, but his entire class looked at us like we were there to spread the plague among them. Of course, we each found that we had our own mentor or tormentor is probably a better term. I was introduced to Mr. Yutaka Nakanishi who was a Second Degree Black Belt and Len was handed over to Mr. Meiyu Takara, soon to be a First Degree Black Belt. It didn’t take long to feel like I was back at Parris Island and going through the first days of recruit training again. Then night after night it was the same thing over and over; katas, more katas, the first awkward steps in self-defense practice and the endless pounding on my arms and legs, which left me bruised from my wrists almost to my elbows. Certainly, unlike boot camp, it would’ve been easy to walk away and put it all behind me, but for I was determined to prove that I could take whatever they could dish out. I wasn’t going to quit no matter how tough they made it. A month went by, then two and finally three. Mid way into the fourth month, Miyagi Sensei called us over and said, “I think maybe you two are serious. So now we get down to business.” Right about then I wondered what the hell we’d been doing if we weren’t already down to business. Nakanishi stepped it up a notch and I soon found out just how intense the training could be. Still, no matter what happened, I went back night after night, but now Miyagi Sensei would take turns calling Len and I aside to work with him. One on one with the top man was no less painful or any easier. He wanted to be sure we were still serious.
By now we’d forgotten that promise he’d made about never getting promoted and I guess we’d resolved ourselves to the fact that no matter what, we’d leave his class and Okinawa as we’d come in; White Belts. Then one evening in June of 1964 and after a really bad night in class, a night when we sure as hell couldn’t do anything right, he dropped a bomb on us. We were sitting around in his house and drinking green tea, which was customary after each and every class, when he calmly told us that we’d been promoted to Brown Belt. I was stunned, shocked, surprised or any other word you’d like to choose to describe my reaction to the announcement. It took almost a minute for me to finally tell him I didn’t deserve the belt and that I didn’t want to wear it. He just smiled and said, “Next class you wear the belt. It means you’ll work that much harder to prove I’m not a fool for promoting you.” Well, I can tell you it sure felt odd putting that belt on and stepping out in front of all those Okinawans for the first time in anything but a white belt. Len and I were greeted with a lot of smiles, nods and handshakes, but still there were a few who obviously didn’t care for our promotions. We were still the foreigners who, in their eyes, hadn’t really proven ourselves completely. I think those skeptics guessed that we would leave now that we’d achieved what no other American had accomplished—received a promotion from Miyagi Sensei. To their surprise we were still there night after night, working even harder than before trying to prove that we were worthy of the honor that had been bestowed upon us. By mid fall of 1964 Len was shipped back to the States, but I still had time to go and continued to attend classes hoping to absorb as much as possible. Miyagi Sensei told me I should teach classes when I returned to the U. S. and I promised that I would. By now I’d reached the level required to be a Shodan, (1st Degree Black Belt) and that’s when I was told that it was just really the beginning. Miyagi said my journey to wisdom and understanding was just now starting and the only way to truly learn the art of Karate was to teach and continue to practice.
True to my word, when I came home I grabbed the first two people I could find who wanted to learn and began teaching my first class in the basement of my father’s house. Years passed, students came and went and along the way I met a few truly dedicated men in Dan Simons, Bruce Charity and Will Adams. We’ve practiced together since 1971 and indeed we’ve traveled a long way from our first uncertain steps. And in the steps I’ve taken with them I’ve also found three great friends and their friendship and loyalty over the years has helped keep our class going.
Of course during that journey Takeshi Miyagi has not
only been my teacher, but also my friend. On a trip back there in 1995
he and I had the opportunity to talk about that journey and what it meant
to both of us. He confessed that he and all of his students were sure
that I’d walk out of the dojo one night and never show my face there again.
He
told me how surprised they were that I kept coming back, but each time
I came back they learned to respect me a little more. But it meant more
than I can ever express when he told me how proud he was of what I’d accomplished
since that first day so many years ago. I’ve found true friends half a
world away and that photograph that was taken in 2002 of Miyagi Sensei,
Nakanishi, Takara and I, shows all that remains of the original class
that I was a part of. We’ve traveled the better part of a lifetime and
have our own dojos, but we have something that in spite of time or distance,
differences in culture and a bit of skepticism when we first met that
has bound us together as a family—the art of Karate. Just as that art
binds me to a family in Okinawa, the strings tie just as tightly here
at home to my family, young and old.
