I look around at the classy dojos these days and I shudder. I see the wall length mirrors and the immaculate rows of bags, and I shudder. These places are nothing like what I experienced at the Kang Duk Won.
Kang Duk Won Korean Karate was born of a classmate of Gichin Funakoshi's, Toyama Kanken, and therefore it is one of the purest representations of Karate in existence. It took root in Korea, and was tempered in that countries harsh winters and boiling summers, all of which made it an art for men to study. Eventually it came to the United States, and I studied it in San Jose under the guidance of Bob Babich.
Next to the Kang Duk Won was the Towne Theater, which immoral cinema had the everlasting honor of showing a movie starring a gal name of Linda Lovelace for over two years. Other businesses included sweat shops and bars and nothing yuppie at all. In front of the Kang Duk Won, like as not, you would see a score of Harley Davidsons, courtesy of the Hells Angels, Gypsy Jokers, and just about any other Outlaw Biker gang who wanted to put aside war to learn the real art.
The front window was cracked and duc taped together. Visitors sat on a picnic bench to watch class. Bob's office was a cubbyhole just big enough for a desk and two chairs, if you didn't open the chairs.
The mat was made out of sailboat canvas, and a big seam ran up the left side of the mat. It was a dirty, filthy thing, and where forms turned you could see strips of duc tape. And it was small, maybe 15 by 25, but classes of 20 and more would work full bore in their pursuit of the art.
In the back room a bag hung from the ceiling, and Bob filled it himself, made it extra heavy. He was always taking it to the cobbler to get it repaired, the darned thing looked like Frankenstein's manhood. We used to kick that thing till it bounced, and the whole building would shiver like a kicked dog.
Now, you might wonder why such a place deserves my infinite admiration, and the answer is simple. No excuses, no whining, no bottles of designer water standing at the sides of the mat. Just men working, sweating, giving everything they had, and building an energy indescribable.
I look at modern schools today, with all their frills, and I shudder, for I don't feel the manic energy, I don't feel the intensity and the comradeship. I don't think I am being old, I am just terrified that when I drop this body, when I come back in another body, I won't find a group of people that are willing to suffer their all for the True Art. I won't find something, dirty, ragged, gasping for breath, and yet willing to fill my soul with the true spirit of the martial arts, I won't find something as beautiful as the Kang Duk Won.
Tags: Find, Bob, EverRead the full Harley Davidson Books review of:
Will I Ever Find an Art as True as the Kang Duk Won?
