The First Isshin-ryu Dojo

In

The United States

         The first Isshin-ryu dojos opened throughout the United States , were invariably opened by former and active members of the United States Marine Corps. Okinawa, as a result of the unconditional surrender of Japan, at the end of World War II, was owned by the United States . Our government established defensive military bases across the Pacific Rim , to protect the vital interests of our nation and to ensure that there would never be another Pearl Harbor . Amongst the other service bases, The United States Marine Corps permanently stationed the Third Marine Division on numerous Camps throughout Okinawa .

         In the 1950’s, alone amongst the other services, ruled that Marine dependents would not be stationed with those Marines who were posted for duty on Okinawa . This created a great hardship for the Marines, who were required to leave their wives/husbands and children State side, as the Corps referred to the United States.

         On the up-side, after duty hours, many of these Marines, who wanted to further their combative skills beyond the proficiency with weapons, for which the Corps has rightfully been revered for more than two centuries, sought out karate Masters and their schools. Oddly, without any set regulations pointing out particular schools, the percentage of Marines who sought out Tatsuo Shimabuku’s Dojo (School) was abnormally high. Among them, was a young Pfc. Who would become a “Living Legend in his Time.” In 1957, Pfc. Don Nagle joined, along with several other Marines, the dojo of the creator of Isshin-ryu, a newly introduced means of hand-to-hand combat on Okinawa . The style was, to a great degree, shunned by the other major Sensei's on the Island , because of the innovations inherent in Isshin-ryu, that were seen as a direct assault upon the basis of all karate established in the past. These other styles were looked upon as the heritage of the Island of Okinawa . Historical heroes of Okinawan karate  were esteemed as the people’s Icons and were not to be violated. This upheaval even caused enmity between Tatsuo Shimabuku, the new Soke of Isshin-ryu, and his own brother.

        The basis for this dispute, was due to the fact that, Isshin-ryu had drastically altered the concept of self-defense. Shimabuku himself, was a simple man who, like many other residents of Okinawa over the past centuries, was turned over to his uncle as a young boy to learn the art of Okinawan Te, for self-defense. Over his lifetime, he would be a farmer, teacher and become involved in other commercial endeavors, in order to maintain his family, but the teaching of the martial arts were now inculcated within his heart. Over several decades, he had become a recognized and revered Master in both Shorin-ryu and Goju-ryu. With this background, he was able to dissect these two styles and the other styles taught upon the Island . He became uncomfortable with his understanding of the techniques which were favored by his peers. As a simple farmer, he could not be acquainted with the biological and physiological mechanics of the body, but he intuitively knew what was right and comfortable for a man, in various situations. His drills, while teaching his students, while honing his own skills, left him with doubt of their efficacy. Over a period of time, he began to experiment and think deeply about the motions within the katas and basic exercises. As a result, he eventually created Isshin-ryu. True to his own character, his martial art was simple, based in logic and physiologically comfortable. Anyone who spent more than a few hours with the Master would notice that he was the antithesis of the hard and exaggerated stances pictured in the movies and TV land. He was totally relaxed and did not expend excess energy on anything, except Isshin-ryu and, even there only at the moment of momentary impact. We asked him about this and he told us a tale. He said that if one watches a lion or tiger, in it’s natural state; he would find that they spend the majority of their time either asleep or relaxing in the shade. During the hunt, they are full of awareness, but still move in a relaxed manner, until the moment of attack. At that point all of the predators mind and body come together and he/she hits the prey with explosive muscularity. Immediately after the kill, the animal is again relaxed as he eats the prey or relaxes after the conquest of a rival. There is no posturing before or after the kill, only seconds of ferocious violence and tension when every aspect of the beasts mind and body instinctively concentrates on the kill. This is the apex of Chi, for this animal. Never utilize energy needlessly, or it will not be available when required. That was the Master’s advice, his way of life and the “Essence” of Isshin-ryu. His innovations were basic to his philosophy. The punch is typical of this premise. Rather than use the historic “Screw punch,” he instead instituted the vertical fist. The screw punch was normally thrown from a chamber inches under the armpit and thrown toward the target while turning over the fist 180 degrees, prior to the strike. The new vertical fist, with the thumb placed atop the index finger, strengthened the hand and wrist, protecting them from injury and making the fist a totally solid object. Further, the fist is not meant to drive through the body totally. Instead, the Isshin-ryu punch is thrown with the arm and body totally relaxed, until the split second of impact, at which time, the fist is withdrawn faster than it was thrown. This leaves the tremendous impact within the body, rupturing vessels and organs. To illustrate the idea of relaxation, picture the hands at your sides, with the palms toward the body. You are in a totally relaxed stance. Bring the right hand up, in order to shake someone’s hand, or to brush your hair back. It is a completely natural movement, without any stress, using minimal energy. That is the vertical snap punch, which can be thrown from any hand position, in front of the body as a boxer, at your sides, or held at your hips with your palms up, open and relaxed.

        In addition to this drastic change, the Isshin-ryu stance is a relaxed Sei-san, as though ready to greet a friend. There should be no stress in the arms, chest or shoulders. There are no deep stances in an Isshin-ryu kumite, you must be totally relaxed, until your opponent throws the first blow, whether with hands or feet. Master Nagle fought standing with feet fairly close to each other, body slumped, arms out, one up, one down. He actually looked bored during even the toughest of matches. He blocked kicks with his foot before they could be thrown, blocked punches by waving them aside and struck before the opponent could get to him. His strikes were lightening quick, making it impossible to block. If you blocked a punch or kick, it was probably a feint and you were instantly hit with a second and third blow, ending the match. Fighting in this manner, ensures that you never tip off or telegraph your moves. In order to fight, as Shimabuku Soke intended and Master Nagle fought, you have to come to enjoy and look forward to kumite. If you don’t enjoy kumite, you will be unable to relax. You must always enter a match confident that you will win. Without words, you will convey your winning attitude to your opponent. This will cause them to fight defensively and you must then be relentless in your attack, coming in from different angles and throwing volleys of kicks and punches. Overload their computer and they will freeze.

        What Shimabuku Soke wrought was not simply a variation of other styles, but a totally new paradigm, which makes Isshin-ryu, in my mind, a martial art, in and of itself. Isshin-ryu is so relaxed and so logical, that it is the perfect art for Hand to Hand Combat (H2H). It allows an Isshin-ryu fighter to combat multiple opponents simultaneously. This is fortunate for the Marines, whom unwittingly fostered Isshin-ryu, in it’s growing years, in the 50’s.

I have been involved with Isshin-ryu for 47 years and with teaching Isshin-ryu to and for the Marines for about 45 of those years.

        In 1958, I arrived at Camp Lejeune , North Carolina , to report for my first tour of duty with Force Troops, Second Marine Division, USMC. Within weeks, I learned, through another Second Lieutenant and friend, that there was a martial arts school in the town outside the base, Jacksonville , NC . The school was on New Bridge Street and was owned by Sgt. Ernie Cates, five time winner of the Marine Corps Judo Championship. He was a friendly, relaxed and totally professional teacher. It was my thought that both my friend (who brought me to the dojo) and I would join the Judo class. However, after watching through the window for a seemingly long time, we ventured into the school and introduced ourselves to Master Cates. A class was in progress as we stood there and Sgt. Cates told us that this was Isshin-ryu karate, from Okinawa . He also pointed out the Instructor, a Fourth Degree Black Belt, who had just come back from Okinawa . His name was Don Nagle. (No one at that time realized the significance of these converging events, but, years later, it became evident that this was the first Isshin-ryu dojo in all of America.) I was stunned, standing next to Cates, who was probably 6’ tall and close to 200 lbs. of muscle. Nagle, by comparison, was about 5’ 10” and 130 lbs., he was all sinew and bone. It was almost ludicrous, until he bowed in with one of his brown belts, who was large, muscular and seemed naturally athletic. It was Rick Niemira, who would become one of my best friends. Niemira moved like a cat, with the obvious intent to pound anything in his way. Nagle beat him to a pulp. It was hard to believe. He then fought another brown belt, tall and lanky, who turned out to be Jim Chapman, who threw every kick in the book without any visible effort and with intent to do damage. Nagle beat him to a pulp. At that point, Nagle bowed off the deck, grabbed a towel and wiped his face, and then strolled over to Sgt. Cates and my friend and me. Cates introduced him as Sensei Don Nagle, my friend John addressed him with a friendly Hello Don. It was then that I noticed Nagles’ eyes as he glanced at John and said Hi. I then addressed him with a Hello, Sensei Nagle and got a smile and nod. Little did we know that the small difference between our introductions would spell hell for John over the next two weeks, whereupon, John left, never to be seen again.

        The fact was, that the classes were a living hell, whether Sensei Nagle took to you, or not. It was simply the way he taught Isshin-ryu, obviously, as he was taught. There was one break for five minutes after doing calisthenics, then the basics and kicks, twenty five each, from each side. If someone screwed up as you got to, say, a nineteen count on the tenth basic, you all started at one and proceeded on again. You have to understand that I was in charge of a platoon of 50 Marines during a day that started at 0800 hours, promptly and often earlier. There were also Recon Marines in our pack that spent their day running and on maneuvers all day and then came to the dojo. After the break, we studied kata. Oddly, this was not under strict supervision, although I quickly realized that Nagle spotted everything that happened anywhere in the dojo. Normally, a green belt would show a white belt how to do Sei-San kata, our first in Isshin-ryu. For a former boxer and street fighter from Brooklyn , the kata were ethereal, spooky and unreal, making my time in the dojo a strange and somehow mystic adventure. At that point, Nagle would tell us to sit against the east wall of the dojo, under rows of sticks with students names in English and Japanese on them. The placement showed who was present and signified their rank. I was proud to get a stick on the wall after a few months. Once we were all seated, Sensei Nagle would point to two people, usually of similar rank and they would get up and face each other, with Sensei on their flank. They would turn to Sensei and on his command, bow to him. Then, again on his command, they bowed to each other. He would bark another command and they would get in a fighting stance. The next command started the match. You must realize that we had no protective equipment and the fighting was with contact. At brown and black belt level, it was almost lethal, even if the students were able to pull the snap punches. The opponents kicked and punched each other and despite some real contact, no one complained or asked to stop. It was a sign of honor that you continued. You were not about to let another Marine see that you were in distress. This was normal amongst Marines. I was in the class for about two weeks and knew all my basics and a bit of Sei-San, when, at kumite time, Nagle pointed to me and a tough looking Marine green belt named Joe Cormiea. We bowed in and I got into Sei-San stance, with my fists on my hips. Joe stepped forward quickly and punched me in the solar plexus. I passed out. The following night I was knocked unconscious with a kick to the jaw from another green belt. On the third night I was again carried off the deck. I was in the dressing area contemplating how much I might be able to sell my uniform or Gi for, since under the circumstances, I believed I would eventually get killed. However, that would mean I was quitting and that was never a part of my personality.

Happily, in my fourth match, I managed to stick my thumb in Mr. Cornea's eye and cause what appeared to be a hemorrhage. I won my first karate match. Things began to go uphill after that and at the end of two months I was made a Yon-kyu, in my first test, passing over Go-kyu. My ultimate goal was to become a brown belt, since they appeared to be the toughest and meanest fighters in the dojo. About that time, I had become friendly with both Chapman and Niemira. They were totally different personalities, Chappy being a gregarious, happy go-lucky guy and Niemira being a quiet, thoughtful and serious young man, who I eventually realized was solidly grounded in his faith, confident and loyal to his friends. Both of them were quick to help all the students with the basics, katas or fighting technique. However, with fighting, they felt totally unrestrained and would hurt you if you pressed either of them. Unfortunately, we were there to press everyone, including the Sensei. As a green belt, I attacked everyone that I fought and Sensei Nagle would now pull me aside to fight him. I always gave him my best and sorrowfully, he gave me his best. On one occasion, he caught me in the left pectoral with a round-house kick. At that moment it didn’t seem too harmful, but two days later, my left lung collapsed, with excruciating pain. It cost me a month in the Naval Hospital . Upon release, I went right back to the dojo and the kumite that I loved. I was there for nine months, annoying Sensei to teach me more and more every day. Two days after his marriage to a beautiful young North Carolinian, named Annette, I knocked on his trailer door at 0900 hours and woke them up, since I wanted to go over Kusanku kata with him. Finally he came out, stripped to the waist and taught me the kata for two hours. Obviously, I had forgotten what the term Honeymoon meant and had also become obsessed with Isshin-ryu.

        As far as the dojo was concerned, it was what came to be the usual store front with the windows decorated, by an artist who took Judo lessons. The interior was about 70 feet long and 35 feet wide. Except for a space on the east side of three feet and on the south end of about ten feet, the rest of the floor was covered by a fairly firm Tatami or mat, which, though we tried to clean it, was eternally stained from one end to the other with blood stains. The walls were an odd blue, green, purple. Many years later, on the night that I was installed into the Isshin-ryu Hall of Fame in Tennessee , both Don Nagle and Ernie Cates showed up for the event. Later that night, I finally asked Master Cates, why he chose that strange color for the dojo walls. He smiled slightly and said, “It was the only paint we could steal from the base at that time.” Ernie, prior to his retirement from the Corps, received a Commission as an Officer, while in Viet-Nam and ended his career as a Captain. He and his beloved wife, Pat, who regrettably passed on recently, was not only a lovely young woman, but a black belt instructor, as well, lived with their family in a suite of rooms in the back of the dojo. I remember that on one very hot summer night, just after basics and during our break, Pat had been out shopping in town. Suddenly she burst into the dojo, with three inebriated sailors chasing her. They had accosted her down the street, but she broke away and they followed. The three were in the middle of the deck, when they stopped, looked around and realized where they were. Too late. One of the students had closed and locked the double doors. There was Ernie, Don Nagle, Rick Niemira, Jim Chapman, Don Bohan, myself and a few others. There was no requirement for the Police, the beating they took that night would never be forgotten by these three morons. It was as though they were kicking dummies and everyone got several chances to demonstrate their favorite techniques. We were all satisfied that what we were taught actually worked. Finally, we opened the doors and threw them in the gutter, where the Shore Patrol picked them up for drunk and disorderly. A good nights work. Pat was never bothered in town again.

        At about that time, Gy. Sgt. Don Bohan showed up from Okinawa, where he had studied with Tatsuo Shimabuku, Soke. He was born in New York , saw he and I hit it off right away. There were times on Saturdays when we would get pretty wild, as a group, and act as stunt men in a class brawl. Everyone new how to roll out, utilize Judo and karate and could pull a punch. It was like a street riot with bodies flying all over the dojo. At the end, we all had a hell of a workout, every body had bruises and a trickle of blood, but no one was seriously hurt. We were thankful for that, since Sgt. Cates and Cpl. Nagle would be angry if someone was layed up or hospitalized. It was bad enough when someone got hurt and had to face the Navy Commander in charge of Orthopedics. If you were from the dojo and injured, he ripped you up one side and down the other.

        There were Kumpai parties held at the dojos and often some impromptu matches, after a couple of rounds of sake. Master Nagle and me would engage in jump kick matches, hitting a Spalding rubber ball on a rope, which could be lowered or pulled up to the ceiling. On one occasion, we had gotten up to ten feet (we were the only ones light enough to jump that high, from a standing start) and Sensei pulled it up another six inches. He hit it and landed beautifully, I nearly hit it and landed ugly, turning over my ankle. Later that night, the swelling was ridiculous and I wound up a victim of Commander Starch-ass, at the hospital. I was back in the dojo within three days.

        By that time I had made my dream come true, I was an Ik-kyu, first degree brown belt and a certified bad ass in the dojo. I could hold my own with anyone in the dojo. One evening after I had been at that stage for a while, we finished the basics and without the usual break, Sensei sat us down and told us we were going straight to kumite. He chose one of the white belts and then pointed to me. The match went quickly, but Sensei dismissed the white belt and brought up another one to fight me. Again it went quickly and by now I realized I was going for Sho-Dan, or First Degree Black Belt. I made myself calm down, since there were twenty-one people other than me on the deck, not counting Sensei. In time, I got through the entire class and Sensei Nagle stepped into the ring area. I had already been on the deck fighting for about an hour, since the duration of a match was up to Sensei Nagle. We bowed in and our match began. Sensei Skipped away from several of my attacks and blocked others and I narrowly escaped harm on a couple of occasions during the match. Since we were built the same, I had long before decided that I would try to emulate the exact manner in which the Sensei fought. The only distinguishing difference was that I didn’t have his patience. He would stand in one spot, normally in an oblique Sei-San, up on the ball of his forward foot, with his right arm out and down with the palm up,  for blocking, while the other arm was up, forearm and hand across his forehead. If you stayed outside, he would give you a look that said he was disappointed in your lack of purpose. He taught us to fight and attack at all times. We had confidence that we could win. In this match he refused to move after about five minutes. Despite the fact that I had been fighting for over an hour, I was still pumped. I decided to attack; perhaps I was delirious with fatigue. I flew at him, and once close enough I shot out a right side thrust kick and a right hand back fist, which had never failed me. My strikes were half way there and Sensei had not moved. Suddenly, I was five feet away from Sensei, bent over and my nose was crushed flat, with blood all over the deck and my Gi. Sensei was in the same stance and asked me, “Do you wish to continue, Mr. McGrath. I answered, “I don’t believe I need much more of this, Sensei.” He then asked me to kneel before him, he knelt and removed his black obi, folded it and layed it in front of me. I removed my brown belt and put his obi on. We bowed and he congratulated me and at that point Niemira, Bo, Chappy and the rest of the guys mobbed me. Sensei said that this was the fastest Black Belt he had ever offered. I didn’t go out with the guys that night, but put some cotton up my nostrils, pulled my nose straight and went home to my wife. When I got there, two of my Sgt.s came to visit, with a bottle of good scotch. When my wife Gene opened the door, she almost fainted, but I told her not to worry, I was a Black Belt. We all had a few drinks and put some ice in my drink and on my face. The following night I was on the deck bright and early, looking to fight the brown belts. That was the first dojo. I have a favorite picture on my wall at home, of me attacking Sensei Nagle seconds before he struck my nose. Seconds later, I was the happiest guy in the world. I had surpassed my own expectations, who knew what was ahead. Near the end of 1959, Sensei Nagle was discharged and left to become a law enforcement officer on the Jersey City Police Department and opened a dojo on Mercer Street. That dojo also thrived with students like Gary Alexander, to become the first All-American Champion, Pat Ditorre, another excellent fighter and police officer, Ralph Cherico, who bullied Sensei Nagle as a youngster and now found himself on the deck with Isshin-ryu's greatest American fighter. Both Rick Niemira and Jim Chapman joined Sensei in his New Jersey dojo. They were teaching Black Belts and kept the tough guys in the dojo, in their place. Few people were able to fight on a  par with these two men. The dojo was run by Sensei Nagle, in the same excruciatingly painful manner as the original dojo. As to the fighting, the only difference was that in the 60’s we were able to obtain Gi's that actually fit Americans. The contact still sent many students, junior and senior to the emergency room, for treatment.

        The basic difference was that, you can only have one first dojo. In the late 50’s no one in the United States knew of or even heard of the term karate. We had all been given a certain amount of hand-to-hand combat training in Boot Camp and again in Advanced Infantry School for the enlisted men and at Basic School for the newly Commissioned Officers. However, it was truly basic and in most cases, the instructors were four pages ahead of the students, in old English versions of Judo instruction in Japan . As we said at that time, “it was enough training, to get killed in a fight if we used our new knowledge.” As a result, when new students walked into the dojo in Jacksonville , you could see the awe and, a bit of fear, upon their faces. As they were exposed to the class moving in unison to a chanted count, performing movements that had no relativity to anything Americans had ever seen. It inured a certain mysticism into the character of the dojo. We knew that we were different, by the time we became green belts, since even on leave in some of the big cities of America , there were few Judo academy, but absolutely no one knew what karate was. Even in the early 60’s, we were treated as oddities. Since Sensei Nagle’s group were often invited on base, for specific holidays, for demonstrations, many of the troops got to know who we were and the crowds of onlookers outside the doors of the dojo multiplied, like rabbits. The class also grew, as a result, since Marines were concerned about physical fitness and combat skills.

        As the students reached further into their knowledge of the katas and the use of techniques plucked from the katas, for kumite, the almost religious aspect of what we were learning deepened. In fact, I had shaved my hair close to my scalp, in the event I was injured and required stitches in my head. I had played hockey for six years prior to enlisting and was aware of the mess a deep cut could make when the hair over the injury required shaving. My mother saw a Marine Corps paper, with a picture of me kneeling in my gi, with my closely cropped hair and told my Dad to call and find out if I had become a Buddhist. Obviously a traumatic experience for an elderly Irish Catholic woman of the old school. She was greatly relieved after my Father’s conversation with me.

        As an Officer, I lived in quarters, with my family surrounded by other Marine and Navy Officers. Suddenly, my wife and I were getting an increased number of invitations to parties at neighbors homes. Shortly after we arrived, the host would mention I studied karate and since he just happened to have a pile of one inch thick, 12”x12” boards on hand. They felt it would be amusing if I could break through a pile of these boards. At the beginning of this phenomenon, I usually agreed with good humor and they were awed if I broke through six or eight inches of boards. We did not use spacers in those days. After a while, I disliked being seen as an oddity, and refused invitations if it required a demo.

        It simply was not like karate of today. We felt privileged. We were awed by the Sensei's and had a deep loyalty to them. In fact, if someone came to the dojo from another school, in order to challenge Sensei Nagle, the rule we had enforced, was that the Senior student on the deck, under Sensei was to fight the challenger first, to determine if he was worthy of fighting the Sensei. One night, soon after becoming a first degree brown belt, a young athletic sailor, just back from the Island as a Black Belt in Shorin-ryu came through the door and inquired where Sensei Nagle was. I asked him what he wanted. He had heard of Nagle while in Okinawa and wanted to fight him. I told him about the dojo rule and that none of the Back Belts were in at the time. He was upset, until I mentioned that I was the highest rank in the dojo, at the moment. I said that I would be happy to oblige him. He thanked me, turned and went into the dressing area. Only a few other students were on the deck, white, green and brown belts, all junior to me. When the challenger came out one of the other brown belts refereed and the fight was on. For three to five minutes, I blocked his techniques or avoided them, since he seemed to telegraph his attacks. Simultaneously, I hit him with a variety of back fists, from various angles and finished him with a spinning back fist which it the cheekbone and blew the eye shut within seconds. Afterward, we sat and talked and I told him that, had he gotten to engage Sensei Nagle, he might be dead right now. When Nagle arrived and started the class, I introduced my new friend and he was allowed to work out with us. At the end of kumite, which he watched, seeing Sensei in action, he told me he was thankful that I had discouraged his challenge. We never saw him again. I think he reported into Norfolk , Va. Naval Station. Sensei thanked me for what I had done to keep tradition alive in the dojo. He asked me if I had been nervous about fighting a strange black belt from a style I had never seen. I told him that he had told us that we could beat anyone. I believed he was right. We were closer friends after that, except that he now fought me more often and for longer duration in each fight. Some of those matches were barn burners. As Sensei Bohan later told his students, Sensei Nagle was the meanest man to ever step on a deck. I don’t believe he was mean simply to be mean, I believe that if you were willing to fight him, he took the same chance of injury that we took and so, he fought coldly, with little or no compunction of injuring his opponent or knocking them out. That seemed logical to me and it is the same mind set I took onto the deck. Sensei Nagle, when he elevated me to Third Degree Black Belt, San-Dan, a teaching rank, he stated that, “Mr. McGrath is the meanest finisher I have ever seen. So don’t let him get the first shot in.” I was exceedingly proud of that remark, since I knew that it was his mind set, which he demonstrated time and again when he fought me, or Rick, Chappy, and Bohan. I have a Marine Corps T-shirt that was given to me by the active duty Marines that I teach in New York . On the back it says, “Pain is weakness leaving the body.” We should have had that in the first dojo. It was the fifties, we were Marines and damned proud of it and we were the students of the man who would become, “A Living Legend,” as asserted by the magazines, throughout the 60’s and into the 90’s, until the day he died. Now I look back and realize that the aura of mysticism was the abilities of both Master Nagle and the amiable historian, but mean as a tiger Judo competitor, Sgt. Ernie Cates. They were the element that made the first dojo a unique and never to be duplicated experience. That was the First Isshin-ryu Dojo in America . The students of Isshin-ryu should be proud of this heritage of fighting Marines who cared nothing about bruises, blood or broken bones. Isshin-ryu was above that and all other things. My wife must have been a Saint and still is.

Questions or Comments Please e-mail: thedojo@aokaincmcgrath.com