I was saddened to learn from seasoned about the recent death of Vinson Grace, from whom I studied Okinawan Goju-ryu Karate-Do Shobukan in the early-to-mid-80s in Syracuse, NY:
Martial arts teacher Vinson Grace dies
Autopsy results awaited in Southwest Community Center instructor's death.
Sensei Grace--he rarely used his title of Shihan--was a man of uncommon common sense, who always had a smile and an encouraging word. He was also a fierce competitor in both sparring and forms, known especially for his iaido kata. He taught me iaido and it remains my favorite martial arts experience after all these years in the arts. I still quote him frequently after 20 years, saying "Sensei always said..." even though I now teach the Filipino martial arts. In fact, I quoted him last night to my son about study habits for his upcoming math. tests. He impacted me greatly as a martial artist, but also affected me as a person. What a great role model he was.
I remember him working through class after class after class with a young man who both stuttered and had a congenital limp. He was embarrassed about performing a kata for both reasons--he'd have to state the name of the kata to the judges first, which concerned him, and then perform it with his limp--but he really wanted to compete. Sensei Grace had incredible patience and a wealth of ideas for him. He eventually did compete, and did OK but didn't place. It was a real boost for his confidence, and no one was happier for him than Sensei Grace.
I should mention also that Sensei Grace hit like a ton of bricks and was about as hard to hurt as a brick wall. He was a smart, tough, and experienced fighter who was too much of a gentleman to use four-letter words like 'quit'--and that's a mighty hard combination to beat.
An anecdote: He often spoke of strategies for martial arts competitions (and, by extension, other struggles). One day he told a story about him winning a weapons kata competition, so as to reinforce his advice to "Never tell on yourself!" by reacting negatively if something goes not-as-intended in a tournament setting. He was well-known on the local tournament circuit. Cool and confident, he began his successful and well-regarded iaido kata by drawing his sword. But the old scabbard gave way, and the live (but somewhat dulled with age) blade sliced the skin of his palm as he drew it, leaving a long but not-too-deep cut that bled heavily. However, Sensei Grace was a dark-skinned African-American wearing a black gi...and the blood didn't show. He completed his form and stood to await the scores. They were very high, essentially guaranteeing him first place! Immediately upon hearing the scores he broke into a broad grin and held his right palm out to the face the judges, showing them the blood dripping from it. He knew that by keeping his cool and not telling on himself, he had won the day. (Luckily, he suffered no permanent injury.) The moral of the story: Persevere, and don't call attention to your own mistakes--just fix them yourself!
Rest in Peace, Sensei.
Martial arts teacher Vinson Grace dies
Autopsy results awaited in Southwest Community Center instructor's death.
I was one of his first two brown belts at Euclid Community Open House--we tested the same day, circa 1985--but I graduated college and left for grad. school before I could continue to black belt. He was very encouraging to me even as I left--making sure I was motivated for more college as he always did for martial arts.
Sensei Grace--he rarely used his title of Shihan--was a man of uncommon common sense, who always had a smile and an encouraging word. He was also a fierce competitor in both sparring and forms, known especially for his iaido kata. He taught me iaido and it remains my favorite martial arts experience after all these years in the arts. I still quote him frequently after 20 years, saying "Sensei always said..." even though I now teach the Filipino martial arts. In fact, I quoted him last night to my son about study habits for his upcoming math. tests. He impacted me greatly as a martial artist, but also affected me as a person. What a great role model he was.
I remember him working through class after class after class with a young man who both stuttered and had a congenital limp. He was embarrassed about performing a kata for both reasons--he'd have to state the name of the kata to the judges first, which concerned him, and then perform it with his limp--but he really wanted to compete. Sensei Grace had incredible patience and a wealth of ideas for him. He eventually did compete, and did OK but didn't place. It was a real boost for his confidence, and no one was happier for him than Sensei Grace.
I should mention also that Sensei Grace hit like a ton of bricks and was about as hard to hurt as a brick wall. He was a smart, tough, and experienced fighter who was too much of a gentleman to use four-letter words like 'quit'--and that's a mighty hard combination to beat.
An anecdote: He often spoke of strategies for martial arts competitions (and, by extension, other struggles). One day he told a story about him winning a weapons kata competition, so as to reinforce his advice to "Never tell on yourself!" by reacting negatively if something goes not-as-intended in a tournament setting. He was well-known on the local tournament circuit. Cool and confident, he began his successful and well-regarded iaido kata by drawing his sword. But the old scabbard gave way, and the live (but somewhat dulled with age) blade sliced the skin of his palm as he drew it, leaving a long but not-too-deep cut that bled heavily. However, Sensei Grace was a dark-skinned African-American wearing a black gi...and the blood didn't show. He completed his form and stood to await the scores. They were very high, essentially guaranteeing him first place! Immediately upon hearing the scores he broke into a broad grin and held his right palm out to the face the judges, showing them the blood dripping from it. He knew that by keeping his cool and not telling on himself, he had won the day. (Luckily, he suffered no permanent injury.) The moral of the story: Persevere, and don't call attention to your own mistakes--just fix them yourself!
Rest in Peace, Sensei.
