in this situation, but not in that one,” or “This technique from style A could be countered with this technique from style B.” It is due in large part to his extensive experience that Suenaka Sensei later came to discount so-called “advanced” techniques, regardless of system (including aikido), modifying or casting aside those techniques vulnerable to kaeshi (countering) and concentrating instead on proven fundamental methods. To him, the simpler and more direct a technique, the broader its potential applications and the fewer the chances for failure. It is out of this conviction that one of Suenaka Sensei’s guiding philosophies was born: “Advanced techniques are merely the basics performed better.”
In addition to teaching in Sacramento, Suenaka gave several demonstrations in the city and surrounding area, including one in San Francisco’s Veteran’s Hospital. It may have been at one of these demonstrations that Suenaka came to the attention of actor and producer Ben Alexander, perhaps best-remembered by most as Sgt. Frank Smith in the early seasons of the Dragnet television series. Alexander hosted a local television talent show. One day, Suenaka received in the mail an invitation to appear on the show to discuss this new and strange martial art, aikido. The appearance went well, and several months later, Suenaka received another invitation to appear on the program, this time to demonstrate aikido technique.
Suenaka opted to perform the demonstration with his uke (demonstration partner) using a “live” (or sharp) blade, a bayonet from an Ml Garand (minus the rifle, of course). After the first few techniques, Suenaka’s uke came charging in with a munetsuki attack (a thrust to the belly). Suenaka turned to the side, preparing to execute kote-gaeshi (a wrist-cutting throw). The uke, however, anticipating what Suenaka Sensei was about to do, “choked” his attack, changing the angle and following Suenaka’s turn, thrusting the foot-long blade full-speed directly at Suenaka’s abdomen. Suenaka was able to pivot out of the way of the altered thrust, though just barely—the blade penetrated his gi, barely missing his flesh as Suenaka captured the uke’s wrist and, reflexively, delivered a kote-gaeshi so powerful, the wrist was fractured. The uke collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain, the studio audience burst into wild applause, and Alexander quickly cut to a commercial, ending the demonstration. Suenaka was not invited back. Though gratified that his training saved his life, Suenaka is not proud of the incident, stating: “We were young.”
In late 1960, twenty year-old Suenaka reluctantly gave up his dreams of becoming a pilot, his early fervor quelled by the long years of study necessary to achieve that goal. More significantly, he was realizing that the time necessary to achieve that goal was time he would much rather spend furthering his martial education. More and more, he found himself entertaining thoughts of traveling to Japan, to immerse himself in its rich martial tradition. However, he felt the likelihood of someone as low on the ladder as he receiving such a plum assignment was slim, at best. As luck would have it, however, around the same time Suenaka was beginning to have second thoughts about pilot school, Air Force SAC Commander General Curtis LeMay happened to visit Mather, one of many stops on a tour of North American SAC bases. Suenaka was in one of the base’s flight simulator rooms, inspecting the equipment, when LeMay popped in for an unannounced, informal inspection.
At the time, LeMay, himself an experienced judoka, was actively promoting and encouraging martial arts study for Air Force personnel (the Air Force invitation extended to Tomiki Sensei, mentioned earlier, was the result of this program). He and Suenaka managed a moment or two of conversation, during which Suenaka mentioned LeMay’s infant program, his own aikido study, and how much we was hoping to be transferred to Japan to continue his education:
“He told me to go ahead and submit my transfer request to the CBPO (Central Base Personnel Office). So I said I would, and that was the end of the conversation. Not too long after that, around the end of 1959, I submitted my ‘dream sheet,’ my list of preferred assignments, to the CBPO, and almost immediately, I was told I was being transferred to Tachikawa Air Base, about thirty miles outside of Tokyo, in sixty days. I don’t know for certain if LeMay or his program had anything to do with it or not, but I was very happy.”
Immediately, Suenaka quit Sacramento College and headed back to Hawaii to spend a little vacation time with his family before heading overseas. Upon arriving home in February, however, he was stunned to discover O’Sensei himself was in Honolulu; incredibly, Suenaka had received no news of the Founder’s historic visit. Suenaka arrived the day after O’Sensei’s blessing of the newly-constructed Hawaii Aikikai. Although he was unable to attend, his family did; his father, mother, and brother Greg can be seen in many frames of a film, available on video, of the event.
While in Hawaii, O’Sensei was gracious enough to teach a few classes and give several lectures. Naturally, Suenaka took full advantage of the situation, attending as many classes and lectures as he could, as well as those conducted by Tohei Sensei who, having spent some seven years planting the seeds of aikido in America, had accompanied the Founder there to see the seeds bear their first fruit. Suenaka’s first glimpse of O’Sensei was at one of these lectures, during which the Founder demonstrated first-hand the heart of aikido, manifested in the spiritual power of ki. Suenaka vividly remembers the demonstration:
“O’Sensei stood there and put his hand, straight-armed, on this guy’s head, like he was blessing him, and then, boom!, the guy just crumbled, straight down to the ground. Then O’Sensei put his finger on the side of the guy’s head there on the mat, and the guy couldn’t move. Then he turned the guy over on his stomach and laid the back of his head on the middle of this guy’s back, like he was laying on a pillow. He told the guy to get up, and the guy couldn’t move! Now, I looked at that and I thought, ‘This is awesome!”’
On about the third day of his visit, a banquet was held in O’Sensei’s honor at the Rainbow Garden Teahouse, a local inn where he was staying during his time in Honolulu. Among the invited guests were those martial artists who found themselves drawn to this new art of aikido, Suenaka included. Following the feast, O’Sensei retired early, as was his habit. Not long after his departure, Suenaka decided to get a closer look at the mysterious, diminuitive master, unaware that just a few minutes later, he would unexpectedly have his first face-to-face meeting with the Founder.
After a few moments investigation, Suenaka identified O’Sensei’s bungalow and quietly crept closer, not wanting to betray his presence and risk angering Ueshiba. Finally, he got close enough to see inside:
“He was sitting in his room—the sliding shoji screen door was slightly open, as he really liked the natural surroundings, the breeze. . . . I was standing approximately fifty feet away, in the trees behind some bushes, just watching him, just to see what he was doing in there. He was sitting in seiza, reading a book.”
Suddenly, O’Sensei began to speak:
“I understood Japanese vaguely then. I couldn’t speak very much, but I could understand that he was saying something like, ’Hey you, out there!’ His back was turned toward me, and he said, ‘Why don’t you come in here, don’t stand out there.’ Of course, I looked around and didn’t see anyone else there but me, so I approached the door, and I said, ‘Boku?,’ which means ‘me’ in Japanese. And he said, ‘Yes, you!’ So I went in and sat down and faced him on the other side of the table.
“I was very intimidated. He didn’t even look at me. He continued to read, and I looked at him. I had never thought what I’d feel like (meeting O’Sensei). I guess I’d never expected to feel like a dumb fool, just sitting there—and I sat there for a good long period, ten or fifteen minutes. That’s when he wet his finger and reached back behind him, without looking, and brought out a little baby cockroach—he had caught him on his back and his little legs were waving in the air—and I looked at it and said, ‘Oh, yeah.’ And he put it down and let it run away. He never killed things, never even flies or mosquitos.”
The small incident with the insect may not seem like much, but it sent Suenaka’s mind reeling. How had O’Sensei known
