Against All Odds: My Story (17 page)

Personally, I have never had to use martial arts in a dangerous, life-threatening situation. My friends tell me that part of that can be explained by the look that I get in my eyes when I get angry. I'm not aware of doing anything differently, and I'm not even sure that I could reproduce that look under ordinary circumstances, but I've lived with it long enough now to know that my friends are right. I'm a really easy-going guy most of the time, but when someone pushes me too far and hits that anger button, apparently I get a certain look that says, “You better back off.”

I don't feel it, but my friends tell me, “It's a look that you give, a look like you are going to kill.”

In the few times in my life when I've been in potentially dangerous situations, that look alone has caused challengers to back off. Apparently they pick up on that look in my eye and decide that they better start working their way out of the confrontation, and I always give them a way out. Consequently I've never had to use my martial arts abilities to hurt someone or to defend myself in an attack.

I think Jesus exhibited a similar power under control. Although Jesus was never a martial artist that I know of (although that scene when he chased the money changers out of the temple comes pretty close!), Jesus exuded a confidence that came from inner strength; he is the ultimate example of power under control. Reading the records of his activities, it's obvious that even when he was being accosted or attacked, he was always in charge. All the way to the crucifixion, he willingly allowed the soldiers to take him to the cross. They didn't take his life; he gave it up. That is power under control.

Ironically Jesus described himself as “gentle and meek”; he was a truly humble person. In our society today many people misconstrue meekness as weakness, humility as a lack of power or strength. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Having a humble and gentle spirit does not mean that a person is weak. It means that a person does not have to put up a fake wall of arrogance or aloofness, trying to give the impression that they are “tough.” Many times their veneer of toughness is a façade, a thinly disguised attempt to hide their insecurities and fears of failure.

True humility results from an inner strength and a faith that give you the confidence to display that quality without your self-esteem suffering. A Christian can have a humble spirit yet also have a compelling drive to succeed in his or her endeavors.

My mom is a prime example of a person who combines a strong faith in God with a humble, gentle spirit. Mom never preached at her family or at anyone else that I know. But she modeled true Christianity—in the best of conditions and in the worst of times. She demonstrated her faith on a daily basis. To this day people often go to my mom with their problems because they know she cares. To Mom each troubled person with whom she talks provides her the opportunity to share what God has done in her life. Mom's life is a true example of strength and power under control.

While it was a relief to know that I could relax a bit and no longer had to be constantly preparing for the next big tournament, being unemployed was disconcerting. What was I going to do with the rest of my life?

Over dinner one night Steve McQueen verbalized the tough question, the answer to which led me down an entirely new career path. “What do you plan to do,” Steve asked, “now that you have sold off all your karate schools, and you are no longer competing?”

“I'm not really sure, Steve.”

“Why don't you try acting?” he asked me.

“You've got to be kidding!” I said. “What makes you think I could be an actor?”

Steve looked at me as though he were looking deep into my heart and mind. “Being an actor is easy,” he said. “But being a
successful
actor is another story. It requires a presence on the screen, a presence that I think you have, but only the camera can determine that. The camera either likes you, or it doesn't, but you won't know if you don't try. I strongly suggest you give it a try.”

For the next few months, I continued teaching martial arts, but I couldn't get Steve's comment out of my mind. I did a little research and quickly discovered that at that time about sixteen thousand actors in Hollywood were struggling to survive with an average income of $3,000 a year.

When I mentioned that statistic to Steve during another lesson, he grinned. “Remember that philosophy of yours that you always stress to students: set goals, visualize the results of those goals, and then be determined to succeed by overcoming any obstacles in the way. You've been preaching that to me for two years, and now you're saying there's something you can't do?”

“I didn't say I couldn't do it,” I told Steve. “I'm just saying the odds are pretty incredible, and, well, … stop grinning because I'm going to give it my best shot!”

Steve laughed. “I knew you would.”

As I was driving home, I thought about the awesome task I was considering. I was embarking on a new career with absolutely no experience at thirty-four years of age, with a wife and two children to support. Then I remembered the story of the bumblebee. Aerodynamically it is impossible for the bumblebee to fly. The body is too big for the small size of the wings, but apparently no one told the bumblebee that, so he flies! That's pretty much the story of setting goals. Nothing is impossible unless you believe it is. On the other hand, if you believe in God and in yourself, all things are possible!

The next day I checked around for an acting school nearby. I quickly discovered that acting schools are expensive! But as an honorably discharged member of the Air Force, the government would pay for part of my education. In the Yellow Pages, I saw that the famous acting teacher, Estelle Harmon, accepted students on the GI bill, so I enrolled in her classes. It was a full-time school with classes held six to eight hours a day. We studied introduction to voice, reading comprehension, and stage movement, as well as acting.

Most of the other students had studied acting in high school or college or had some other formal training. I was a novice, the oldest student in the class, and I felt like a white belt again, but I was determined to learn as much as I could.

At my first session Estelle asked me to read a scene with an actress in which we played a husband and wife having an argument. I was rigid with fear. After class Estelle took me aside and said, “For an athlete, you're the stiffest person I have ever seen.”

“I've never been so scared in my life, Estelle. I had no idea how difficult acting could be!”

One of the keys to successful acting that Estelle taught her students was to evoke powerful emotions from our past, drawing on them to recreate similar emotions in a scene. She encouraged us to practice this principle in our rehearsals.

During one session Estelle made each student get up in front of the class to sing and pantomime a song. As I waited for my turn, I sat petrified trying to think of a song I knew. When it was my turn, I walked to the front of the class and was about to admit that I couldn't recall the lyrics to any songs, when suddenly, I remembered an incident from my past. I began singing “Dear Hearts and Gentle People,” the song my mom taught me as a child.

I pretended that I was singing as I was taking off my clothes and stepping into the shower. I have no idea how my voice sounded, but I do remember that when I finished, I felt a great sense of accomplishment. This was my first experience with drawing upon personal experiences to make a scene come alive, and I realized that it actually worked!

As a regular part of class, Estelle required the students to play out scenes, and then the other students would critique their peers. When Estelle asked me to critique my fellow students, I always tried to begin my comments by saying something positive, then offering any suggestions for improvement, followed by a final positive affirmation. I would never tell one of my fellow students that his or her performance was wrong. I felt that although there may be a better way of acting out a scene, there was never a wrong way. I always tried to tell the students what I liked about their performances. Sometimes I'd say, “If it were me, I might have tried it this way,” but I'd never condemn a student or say anyone had done a part wrong. Most of the students did something similar with me when I was being critiqued.

One day I played a scene in which I thought I had performed rather well. As usual Estelle chose a student to critique my performance. For some reason the guy tore into me. He shredded everything I had done in the scene, concluding with several caustic remarks. “You're the worst actor I've ever seen. What makes you think you can ever be an actor anyhow?” he railed.

I could feel my blood boiling and rushing to my face as the guy continued to skewer me in front of Estelle and all the other students. I was embarrassed, and I was getting angry. “Who are you to tell me how to act?” I retorted. “You haven't been here any longer than I have. You're not an experienced actor.”

I turned to Estelle, and said, “Estelle, I'll take criticism from you because you know what you're talking about. But I'm not going to take it from this guy.” I walked out of acting class and never went back although I still recall some of Estelle's acting lessons with great gratitude.

With my limited acting experience, I decided to go out on some auditions for parts in television shows and movies. My first audition was for a bit part in a movie. Imagine my surprise when I walked in to the audition and saw more than forty other fellows waiting to try out for one part! I recognized several of the actors and thought,
What chance do I have against these guys?
Needless to say, I didn't get the part.

As a martial arts teacher, I always tried to set a positive example for my students. Now, as a fledgling actor, in my imagination that was the type of character I hoped to play one day. I am quiet and reserved by nature, but I have strong principles. I wanted to develop a character with similar attitudes and values, a man who used his karate ability to fight against injustice.

Once I had the right mental image, the next question was, how am I going to get the chance to do it? Since the death of Bruce Lee, film producers no longer felt that karate movies would be profitable. I realized that if I waited for a producer to come knocking on my door, I'd be waiting a long time. There was only one thing to do. I would make my own break and come up with my own idea for a film. Looking back, I'm amazed at my audacity. To think that with the thousands of writers, producers, and other creative people competing in Hollywood, I could develop an idea for a film? It was ludicrous!

But ideas are funny little things. They only work if
you
do! So I went to work, trying to bring my ideas to fruition.

Although I had ceased competing on a professional level, I continued to teach private students, keeping in contact with many of my former students, and more importantly, keeping myself in tip-top physical condition. After a workout one night, I mentioned to a few of my black belts that I needed an idea for a karate movie. John Robertson, one of my first black belts, spoke up. He said he had an idea for a story about the Black Tigers, an elite squadron of special commandoes in Vietnam. “We'll call it
Good Guys Wear Black
,” he said.

John and I spent a few days writing an outline for a story about the character of John T. Booker, a Vietnam veteran whose old war buddies are being killed off one by one. Booker's job was to get to the bottom of the mystery. Neither of us had ever written a screenplay, nor did we have the money to hire a writer. We finally convinced Joe Fraley, a friend who was a professional writer, to write the script on speculation, meaning he would be paid only if it sold. Joe wrote a short script from our outline and brought it back to me. I loved it! I honestly thought it could work, so I set about taking the next step—one of the most difficult, I was soon to discover—finding some investors to put up enough money to make the film.