"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 that came to my class and quit. 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 night, fellow Marine Len Neidert and I returned and were immediately served our first of many doses of humble pie. The first lesson in humility was served when Miyagi handed me a broom. Our "classroom floor" was the hardened dirt outside of the back door to Mr. Miyagi's house. I quickly learned that each night before class, Len and I would have to sweep the tiny pebbles off of the dirt surface. Lesson number two in humility required us to lower a bucket into the well and fill a metal pot with drinking water for the students. We responded to his orders with a very crisp, "Yes, sir" and began our chores. When the Okinawan students began arriving for class, they glared at us and ignored our greeting. We soon discovered that we were not welcome and I am certain they already knew we would be like the other Americans before us. We would quit and once more embarrass their sensei, Mr. Miyagi. Over the next several months we struggled, in a place where we were not welcomed with open arms, to win the trust and confidence of Mr Miyagi and his students. We saw a long, difficult journey ahead of us, and the road was paved with aches and pains, and countless bumps and bruises.