I had a doctor’s appointment that ended really early in Palo Alto. I was careful to the point of asking the conductor if the train stopped in San Antonio and heard very clearly that it was the next one… well, it wasn’t.

I thought I recognized a friend from Naginata on the train but I wasn’t sure and I wasn’t in the mood to make an ass of myself by asking. But it was him and reconnected and found out that Tanaka Sensei passed away a year ago.

It’s hard to put into words what Naginata meant and still means to me. How I got started is one of those events forever etched in my memory. Walking by the dojo and being attracted by the sheer power coming out in the voices of people practicing. How entranced I was by the elegance and finesse of Schmucker and Hazard sensei as they practiced kata yet how deadly serious the intent was… if you blinked you’d get cut and you’d die.

I remember nights where we’d practice outside, only sensei and me. No one else

Or getting chewed by Lowe sensei… who has that strong voice you can probably hear from the other side of a football field.

I learned so many things and grew up in so many ways but like a child looking up to your parents, you think they’ll always be with you. I know that’s not true, I know. I’ve known it’s not true since 2002 when I lost my dad… but I always thought I’d have Tanaka sensei, Lowe sensei and particularly Hazard sensei any time I decided to go back to the dojo and it was a very rude and hard awakening to know that was not going to be the case anymore.