Thoughts, stories, and ideas from Sensei Steve Gottwirt

Thoughts, stories, and ideas from                  Sensei Steve Gottwirt
Some of these thoughts, stories, and personal history appeared in our newsletter, "Dō Gakuin News". Few members have been with us since our first issue in 1993. As such, ideas on this page may have been printed before, but are worth telling again.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Max Gottwirt – February 5, 1919-December 28, 1983


Today marks the 28th anniversary of the passing of my first influence in the martial arts – my father, Max Gottwirt.

Being very young when I heard this story, and being old now with a shaky memory, here is what I remember: My father joined the Army during WW II. Having bad eyesight, he was kept stateside, where, besides being a clerk, he assisted in training the troops in hand-to-hand combat in the Maryland-Virginia-D.C. area.

As a young child, I had no indications whether my family was poor, lower-middle class, or middle class, I just knew we weren’t very well off. From 5th grade thru high school we lived in a cooperative housing development called Rochdale Village in South Jamaica, Queens. We could only afford carpeting in the living room, the kind of room that was off-limits to family, for ‘company-only’ use. When I would misbehave my father would say, “Come, Steve, I want to talk to you in the living room.” Once on the carpeting, he would say something like, “You didn’t listen to your mother, huh?” and the next thing I knew I was laying on the floor staring up at the ceiling. He’d then tell me to stand up so he could ‘talk’ to me some more. Each time I’d end up with a lovely view of the living room ceiling. As I lay on the carpet I’d think, “I gotta learn this stuff.” This was a literal meaning of the phrase: ‘being called out on the carpet’.

Before you go off screaming ‘child abuse’, keep in mind that my father was foot-sweeping me very lightly onto plush, padded carpeting, not slamming me down to the ground. Also keep in mind that this was the 1960s, when ‘child abuse’ was called ‘parenting’. You may doubt his ways, but there’s no doubt that he got my attention. I don’t think my generation turned out t-t-too b-ba-bbba-badd for being raised this way.

Less than a year after my first personal introduction to the living room carpet, I discovered a Tae Kwon Do program being offered in the Rochdale Village Community Center. I signed up in 1967; thus began my (to date) 44 year career in the martial arts.

On this, the 28th anniversary of his death, I honor the father, salute the veteran and bow to my first martial arts influence. Osu!