Koichi Oguri passed away this week. He will be missed.

To those of you that do not know, he was one of the first students of Masaaki Hatsumi of the Bujinkan, and he was one of the students taken to see Toshitsugu Takamatsu.

I remember him talking about the ways that Takamatsu hit him, demonstrating on another Japanese student and me on the side of class as everyone else was practicing.

When I posted a photo of him on facebook, a friend of mine from Texas asked, “Is he the one that could make a man smell his own butt in four (easy for him ) moves!”

My response was, “No Clint, he could bend me over so I was smelling my own farts in what seemed to be just ONE move. I would try my best to smash his face in and the next thing I knew, I was mangled and crying in the corner. Several times I KNEW I had him and he was going to be sailing across the room. But for some strange reason, he defied reality and just was not there when my fist was supposed to connect.”

Oguri sensei was the stereotype you see in movies. A small Asian man who smiled a lot and grinned as he wrapped you up in knots. Strong winds could have blown him over, yet he made guys built like NFL linebackers scream in shock and pain.

When he was young, he travelled the world and lived out of a backpack. I remember discussing his experiences with a wall in Afghanistan that turned out to made of dried human feces. He frequently travelled with his teacher when they went to teach overseas. After the news of his death reached us, a friend called and shared his experience with him at an event in America, where they met on an elevator and Oguri took the time to open up to him and talk instead of hurrying on to wherever he was going.

What I really enjoyed most about his classes was the attention he would give to a few of us. If you did not do anything that showed ill intent, such as adding in extra moves or correcting other people’s movements on your own, he would take the time to try to help you individually. He was not a teacher that showed something and sat back as you tried to figure it out. He would come around and do the technique on you, pointing out what he was doing that you weren’t. In most cases, it was just what he considered the basics.

I guess it was because of this that I became so vocal in my opposition to video training courses. It was one thing to see what he was doing, another to feel it. If you did not actually feel the level of control he had, you would think that his victim was just going along with him with no real resistance. But the lessons I gained from being pounded on by him can’t be explained. It was different than when I helped him demonstrate. Instead of explaining to the class, he concentrated on me and I got instant understanding of how my actions either gave him something to work with, or could be suppressed by even a little old man with the right dynamics.

Despite the fact that I knew he was sick, and had taken time off from teaching for a while, part of me always thought I would have a chance to see him again. I guess I was in a state of denial.

I regret a lot of things in my life. One thing I regret now is not really showing him how much I treasured him and what he shared with me.

When he was alone, I would sit down and talk to him. We talked about many things, most of them not related to martial arts at all. We talked about things going on in Japan, and things we had done. He was very human and down to earth. I might miss those conversations most of all.

He was a kind man, and a generous one. He shared his knowledge with us and asked little in return.

My request to those of you reading this is to tell someone you love just how you feel about them today. Because you never know when the last goodbye will come.

(Thanks to Antonis Mitrou for the black and white photo, and “Beard Man” for the top one. All others are mine.)

If you like this blog, you might want to check out the other stuff I write. Clink on the link below for the index.

http://www.coloradospringsninjutsu.com/Blog/Archive.html