"If you come to my dojo you will never be promoted to any rank. You will always remain a white belt. But, I expect that you will be like all other Americans who came to my class and quit. I am too strict, much too tough for Americans. But, if you want to learn and learn the right way, come back and I will teach you." Mr. Takeshi Miyagi directed those words to me on a rainy, November night in 1963. The following evening fellow Marine, Len Neidert and I returned to begin classes and were immediately served our very first dose of humble pie. Lessons in humility began when we were told that our first duty every night would be sweeping the pebbles from the hardened dirt floor of our outdoor classroom. Our second task required the lowering of a bucket into a well, filling a pot with drinking water and putting out glasses for our fellow students. We followed Mr. Miyagi's instructions without question and waited for the other students to arrive. We greeted each arriving student with a smile and a "hello" or "good evening." They glared at us and said nothing. When classes began, it was very obvious that we were not welcome and Len and I were certain that Miyagi's students believed we would be like every American who came before us and dishonor their teacher by quitting. Our first night marked the beginning of a battle to gain the trust and confidence of Mr. Miyagi and his students. And, it was evident from the outset, that we faced a very long long journey and the road was paved with aches and pains, and countless bumps and bruises.