I was born in Los Angles, but grew up in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. It was there at the age of 14 a friend and I saw the movie “Billy Jack” and were bitten by the martial arts bug. There was only one martial arts school in town, the Kim School of Tae Kwon Do. My friend, whose father was a doctor, started classes immediately. Coming from a family with three siblings and one working parent, I didn’t have money for Tae Kwon Do classes. I mowed lawns for cash all summer and was able to start taking classes a month or two later. I had to wear a borrowed judo gi for class until I got a real karate gi for Christmas. Unfortunately, about three months into my training, Autumn arrived and the grass stopped growing. I had only been studying for a few months and didn’t want to give it up. I talked to my instructor who talked to the Grand Master and we worked out a deal; I would sweep the studio floor every night and mop it once month. I jumped at the opportunity and attended about 3 classes a week for the next four years.
I have always been more attracted to the exotic than the familiar. Most of the magazines at the time dealt strictly with Japanese and Korean martial arts. There was the occasional article about Kung Fu, Muay Thai, Krabi-Krabong, Penjak-Silat or once, Borneo Headhunters. I’d also always liked weaponry but (at the time) there were no weapons taught in Tae Kwon Do. There was no place in my Southern town to learn any exotic martial arts. Even though I eventually got my Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do, I knew I was not very good at it. Over the following years I tried whatever martial arts I could find; Okinawan Karate, Japanese Jiu-Jitsu and Aikido. I went to every exotic martial arts seminar I could find. I enjoyed all of them and found the experiences valuable but I kept searching the martial art that was right for me.
I remember the first time I learned about Filipino stick fighting, which is known interchangeably as Kali, Arnis, Escrima or broadly as FMA. As early as 1977 I had found an issue of Official Karate featuring (now Grand Tuhon) Leo T. Gaje Jr, on the cover. I didn't really understand what Arnis was all about but I remember that I kept the magazine for a long time and looked at the article frequently.
Years later I found a magazine article covering FMA. The piece was on an art called Modern Arnis. It pictured practitioners using sticks that were taped up or burned diagonally and looked like barber poles. Everyone wore modified karate gis with colored rank belts knotted on the left side. The stick work didn’t look too impressive. I believe the title of the article was something like “Modern Arnis: The Stick Fighting Art You Can learn in a Weekend.” I thought, if it’s something you can pick up that quickly, maybe I’ll be able to find a seminar one day. It didn’t look like it would be that hard to learn. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
In May of 1981, an issue of Inside Kung-Fu magazine featured Leo on the cover. The article was on an art called Pekiti-Tirsia Kali and it was far more impressive than what I had seen about Modern Arnis. The article focused on the knife fighting aspect of the system, a subject I had never before seen covered in a martial arts magazine. Most of the article covered the history and development of indigenous Filipino martial arts. The rest covered a little about Leo’s life and training and then gave a very basic outline of the knife system. There was only one technique shown in pictures but it was like nothing I had ever seen before. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the article had a huge impact on me. I still had a copy of it.
In the article, Leo was using the mysterious balisong or “butterfly” knife which was largely unknown in the United States at the time. Perhaps not so co-incidentally, an advertisement for domestically produced butterfly knives from a company called Bali-Song Knife Inc. (now Benchmade) accompanied the article. I bought one even though it cost over a hundred dollars, which was extremely expensive for a production knife at the time. I didn’t really know how to use the knife and it would be years before I would study Arnis and but, for some reason, I just had to have one..
Around 1982, while still living in North Carolina, I met a woman who lived in New York City. I made arrangements to visit her in Manhattan. I remembered the Inside Kung-Fu article had said that Tuhon Gaje was teaching in at a small studio in New York. Since this was a social visit, I didn’t have the time to run around looking for martial arts schools. I did however keep my eyes open for anything martial arts related. During the visit something happened, something that seemed very minor at the time, but which I now believe was an omen of things to come..
We were walking down Canal Street in lower Manhattan. It was a warm Saturday afternoon. On the weekends the sidewalks of Canal are filled with people selling fake Cartier watches, electronics that somehow “fell off the truck”, pirated VHS movies and knock-off Gucci purses. The sidewalk was full of people slowly cruising the merchandise. It was so crowded that you could barely move without running into someone.
In the midst of all this, a man and a woman suddenly emerged from the crowd. They were wearing t-shirts with some sort of triangular logo on the left side. It was the kind of logo that looked like it might be martial arts related. I don’t know why but I had the impression that it had something to do with FMA.
I looked hard but couldn’t make out the logo clearly as they passed . When I turned to check the back of their shirts for a larger design, they had already disappeared into the crowd. I told myself that the incident probably meant nothing but it kept nagging at me. I really regretted not approaching them, but as a first timer in NYC I wasn’t sure what the reaction would have been.
After dating long distance for a couple of months, I decided to move to Manhattan to live with my girlfriend (huge mistake - another story). One of the first things I did was go looking for Leo Gaje. The Inside Kung-Fu article had he was teaching at a studio in Manhattan but gave no address. I had also read somewhere that he was teaching classes at the Philippine Consulate. As soon as I could, I went over to the consulate and asked about him. I was told that Leo no longer taught there and had moved to Texas. I got the distinct impression the information officer was rather happy to have gotten ridden of him. After I got to know more about Leo, I kind of understood why that was.
I was extremely disappointed and thought I had missed my only chance to study Pekiti-Tirsia. To console myself, I started visiting all the martial arts stores in Manhattan, marveling at the variety of equipment for sale, most of which I had only ever seen in magazines. In one store I found a copy of Dan Inosanto’s book, “The Filipino Martial Arts”. It was one of the only FMA books available in America at the time. It was very inspiring. The stories of the masters Dan had studied with were fascinating. The book showed some of the basic footwork and stick principles. I remember getting a broomstick and cutting it in half. I tried to teach myself some of the basic techniques in the book but, without a teacher, I didn’t get very far.
On a side note, I was later able to take a couple of seminars with Dan. He is a great guy, an excellent teacher and has an amazing amount of knowledge that he freely shares with anyone who asks.
During one of my expeditions to a martial arts store, I saw a flier posted on the bulletin board. It was for a Arnis class in Manhattan. I called the number and asked if I could attend a session. The very next night I found myself climbing the stairs to the second floor of a typical NYC walk-up. There were no signs anywhere to indicate martial arts were being taught there. At the end of the hall was a small studio .
In the room were a number of people gathered to begin class. The session began with footwork. After that the student practiced basic strikes using a single rattan stick. The class then progressed to everyone using two sticks, one in each hand. After practicing the basic patterns in the air, the group broke up into partners. They then began practicing the patterns again but this time aiming at their partners. The sound of the sticks clashing was deafening and I was amazed that no one got hurt. Switching to single sticks, they once again worked on partner drills, moving at speed I could barely believe. Everything they did was fast, smooth and powerful. Half way through the class I knew that this was something I wanted to be a part of.
Afterwards, I talked to the instructor, Tom Bisio. To my surprise, I found out that he was a first generation student of Leo Gaje and the system of Arnis he was teaching was Pekiti-Tirsia. I later learned that he was the first American to win a full-contact stick fighting tournament in the Philippines after only two years of training. Tom then introduced me to this then wife, Mia Wolff, who was also a student in the class.
I signed up immediately. The beginning training was difficult. For the first three classes all I did was footwork barefoot on a hard wood floor. By the end of the week my feet were so blistered and my legs so sore that I could barely walk. I had thought that having a black belt in Tae Kwon Do and some other martial arts experience would help me learn faster. Perhaps in a weekend like he Modern Arnis article had promised. Instead, I learned that PTK was a complete martial arts system that took years to learn. My previous experience proved to be more of a hindrance than a help. For the first year I felt completely awkward and uncoordinated.
I soon realized that Pekiti-Tirsia was the martial art I had been looking for all my life. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have found a brilliant teacher like Tom and a Pekiti-Tirsia school that was just a couple of subway stops from where I lived. I went to every class I could. After becoming an Advanced Student, I attended seven classes a week, which included going to the beginning class in the evening and then staying for the advanced class, about 3 hours total. I also went to morning classes which often consisted of just Tom and me. For two years I rarely missed a class.
Because Tom is such an excellent teacher and I enjoyed the training so much, I continued to persevere and eventually overcame my awkwardness. I believe all the hard work and sacrifice was worth it. In PTK, I finally found the martial art that was right for me. I still have a lot to learn but I try to share what little knowledge I have with others. Pekiti-Tirsia is still rather rare, especially on the West coast and I feel lucky that I have found some enthusiastic and hard working students to practice it with me.
To this day, I firmly believe that the couple I saw walking on Canal Street was Tom and Mia. They lived nearby in Soho so it is entirely possible. I’ll never know for sure but I don’t think it was coincidence. I believe it was fate. From the moment I read that first magazine article, I believe I was destined to learn and teach Pekiti-Tirsia Kali.
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