Hock's Blogs

PRACTICED AT THE ART OF DECEPTION. FAKES AND STRING THEORY!

A string! One great fake that opens a hole, then one stunning blow, then a tree-step combination…for starters. 5 parts of the string. 1 plus 1, plus 3.

What is string theory in simple “math” terms?  Professor Google says: “Instead of treating subatomic particles as the fundamental building blocks of matter, string theory says that everything is made of unbelievably tiny strings, whose vibrations produce effects…” We here are not galactic physicists. We are knuckle draggers, trying to survive crime and war. Maybe win some trophies is the end game for some? I nickname small practice sets – “string theories.” Parts strung together. They are combat scenario preps, and we all do them but I would like here to interject the fake in as starters and some scientific ways to train them.

Tiny strings. The late, great Remy Presas said so many l times, “All you need you know, is one good fake.” He was speaking of a theory, a battle plan idea. Because we all know “all you need” in martial life is a whole lot more. Call the fake a “set-up” or whatever you please. The concept, this strategy is in all combat sports, and in many non-combat sports. For example in boxing – ” A mock blow or attack on or toward one part in order to distract attention from the point one really intends to attack. “The boxer made a feint with his right, then followed with a left hook.”

“All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.” – Sun Tzu

But a fake and follow-up string is especially important for self-defenders, a real priority to emphasize since they are not in the  sports “duel,” the sports “spar,” the sports “grind” of controlled sports for as long as sports people are.

Think about it, a good fake is important. Good fakes…open things up. “How ‘sporty’ is your fake?” Trained fighters might see them coming and be susceptible to the real delivery steps. But, the ignorant untrained eye won’t see them coming. And I must ask, “How fast is your fake?” If your opponent is slow, a fast fake won’t get the reaction you seek, that opening . You must fake slower.

Brace yourself, fakes or no fakes, to be really thorough, first off you have to learn and improve these “first-line” physical events.

  • Understanding common stand-off problems and ambushes. (Remember fakes are like min-ambushes.) Understand common reactions to strikes, kicks and grabs.
  • All basic strikes.
  • All basic kicks.
  • All basic first grabs that lead to takedowns and ground captures.
  • All basic body movements, footworks and maneuvers.
  • How to fake strikes, kicks and grabs.
  • Appropriate follow-up combinations to finish, or at least, to start off the finishing.

Yikes, that’s a lot of stuff! Folks can’t all be super experts in all these areas. Folks can’t all be martial full-timers, yet he path of study leads through this long way. Certainly, an expert and a serious instructor must know these things, but people with busy “lives,” all of which are 99.5% part timers, (almost all normal people with jobs, families, etc.) not full timers. But they can be taught these 3, 4, 5-part strings of combatives-self-defense early on which can be helpful. A breakdown… 

1-The confrontation. The who, what, where, when, how and why a crime, a battle, or a fight started. Study the intelligence info of fights, crime and war. What are the opening ways of fights, war and crime? Why did you go there? Why are staying there. This essay is not about these “stay alert” topics – which would be a whole book but must at very least be mentioned here as number 1.

2-All basic strikes. Includes hand, stick, knife! The strike alone, in an already open path, needs no fake. But opponent reflex matters. Happens. What naturally, statistically pops open when the enemy ducks, blocks or dodges your incoming strike? In training, you can also turn a whole series in your hand strike training into a 2-step practice, even with every kick. Then a whole series on reverse, as in fake kick and go to hands. Two steps in the string right there that must be formalized as a set of practice.

 

3-All basic kicks. The kick alone, in an already open path, needs no fake. But opponent reflex matters. Happens. What naturally, statistically pops open when the enemy ducks, blocks or dodges an incoming kick? In kicking, a very common tactic is to hand-fake high then kick low. In training, you can turn a whole series in your kicking training into this 2-step practice, making a higher hand fake part of every kick. Then a whole series on reverse. Fake kick and hand strike. Two steps of the string right there, that must be formalized as a set of practice.

 

4-All basic grabs. In takedowns-throws, what are the first, basic grabs on the body that set up one up. What needs to be open for such grabs? What strikes. kicks and fake grabs open the takedown throw-grab you are hoping for?  In ground captures what are the first, basic grabs on the body that set up one up. What needs to be open for the grabs? What strikes and fake grabs open the grab you are hoping for? Can’t strike in your sport? Fake grabs then. What moves can set up your selected grab? (I have a whole other long essay on grabs and fake grabs and set-up grabs.) 

5- Body movements, footworks and maneuvers. Where do we need to be to fake, and be in each part of the string to best execute? Standing or ground?

6-Combinations finishers. I myself believe in 2 or 3 step combinations. At least as a foundational, study method. It might take 5 or 6 things to finish a stunned opponent, in which case, I would like to package them in as yet another 3-part combination. That is just my training strategy. Long steps, 4 or more ideas in the string don’t seem to be accomplished as planned. The opponent moves, blocks, falls, etc. changing the range and breaking the long dance.

Hand fighting, stick fighting, knife fighting, gun fighting. Sports. Arts. The art of deception. String things along for training. String Theory.

One hand example?

  • 1 High hook fake. Hopefully the enemy raises his arm to stop it.
  • 2 His arm now  raised, Low hook to liver.
  • 3 He scrunches. A three Quick combination. Like… a) Higher hook, b) uppercut as head might descend from the liver shot,c)  round kick.
  • 4 Then whatever else might be needed. Another 3 set? 

What series should you build against knife attacks, you armed or not armed? Sticks? Versus weapon quickdraws? I teach these hand, stick, knife (and gun concerning draw points) string lists, in an inspiration that eventually customize your own.

Yes, if you want to you turn these 5-part strings into katas. Yes. Many do. Go ahead. Katas and visualization-theory are not near the top of my list. I’d rather use and suggest gear, mook jong dummies, heavy bags, and of course the best – partners, but whatever. Doing something is better than nothing.

In sports you are filmed, and the opponents watch your favorite strings to prep. And,-or, you watch their favorite strings on films. In crime and war? Maybe not so much is available, but some things can be gleaned.

String Theory in fighting, Not too complicated! As the Rolling Stones said, “She was practiced at the art of deception. Well, I could tell by her blood-stained hands. You can’t always get what you want, But if you try sometimes well, you might find, you get what you need.”

Check out Hock free full one hour training films on his TV channel. Click here

Hock's Blogs

IF YOU PULL? YOU MUST SHOOT! OTHERWISE, NO PULL!

 

Every once in a while, in my years in police work ranging back to the early 1970s, we would get a new shift supervisor like a sergeant or lieutenant, that would open his early shift briefings with some new preference standards. Often this would be a desk jockey or what we use to call a “REMF,” in the Army. Which stands for “rear-echelon-m________, f_________.” These were folks with little to no street experience, by their choice, or folks forced upwards too soon, to fill admin openings. Still a lack of experience.

And yes, some of these people were detached airheads. Several demanded that we never, ever pull-draw guns unless we absolutely have to shoot a bad guy, All other times, the gun must remain holstered. Only draw and must shoot. Must draw? Then must shoot! We would look at each other and think, and later complain in private powwows:
 
  • “Has this idiot ever searched a building or home after an   alarm or invader threat?”
  • “Has this knucklehead never made a felony traffic stop?”
  • “Has this yahoo never…… (on and on with this list).”
Apparently not! How could some supervisors in law enforcement be this ignorant. But this idea transcends policing. I bring these memories up because, lately in my teaching travels, sometimes big, sometimes small, I have run across citizens who have been smart enough to attend concealed carry classes or other entry-level, defensive tactics courses. They attend my “Force Necessary: Gun” courses also. When teaching this and organizing class training to make decisions, a number of attendees are graduates of simplistic, entry-level, CCH and intro “def-tacts” from other programs. Some of these attendees have approached me and said –
 
“Well, they told us in _______ that we only draw our pistol in severest, deadly force situations and can only draw to shoot to kill-stop. You can’t pull your gun unless you also intend to shoot to kill-stop.”
 
Ooooh boy. That old chestnut again. I just look at them, flabbergasted, and wonder “who are these teachers?” And how can I undo this kindergarten, mentality message. I try to explain that I use a commandment list of “Assess, Draw-and-Assess,” decision-making based on many actual events.
 
Assess, Draw and Access, the big five decisions:
1: There-Not There.
2: Pull-Don’t Pull.
3: Aim-Don’t Aim.
4: Shoot-Don’t Shoot.
5: Leave-Don’t leave.
 
These decisions may all occur in 2 seconds or half an hour! Yeah. Situational. I am not writing this today to dissect the list of 5 materials, as I have written long essays on each, elsewhere. Each of the 5 have a successful history in situational, real-world defense, crime and even war.
 
I always repeat the old studies once so easily found in DOJ – Department of Justice – annual reports about firearms use. Each year there was a statistic that about 69% of the time when a gun (or knife, not stick) was drawn by the intended victim, the criminal left. Sure, each situation was ugly and scary (I report some actual situations to attendees) but this was an average end result over the years. Sometime in the 2000s this routine annual stat became really hard and then impossible to find, because it does not suit the political powers that be. This cause was then picked up by various pro-gun groups and their publications. They regularly report successful citizen, gun, crime-fighting events, but they are declared as right-wing bias and they do not carry the mojo of a government report.
 
Yet, these successful events happen frequently, and you are deprived of the truth. When things go unusually “bump in your house, bump in the church, bump in the school, bump in the stores-malls, bump in the wherever” you may be in a position to pull your gun and assess. Remember the best quick draw is pulling your gun out just before you really needed it. (We’ve dissected “brandishing” in detail another essay here.)
 
Gun instructors. Here in the United States, while I and others consider the rising plethora of non-police experienced and non-military-experienced gun instructors, their presence is still a good thing in general. Hey, it’s become a cottage industry hasn’t it?  Citizens teaching gun courses and school and church-shooting courses, etc.. I still think It’s a good thing overall because we’ve noticed they’ve-we’ve achieved a overall higher level of good material. The bar has risen. Overall? Good. But for some of us, sometimes, we can’t help but wonder about some of them and ask,
 
  • “Okay, who is teaching what in these courses regularly?” and,
  • “That guy said…what now?”
If questionable recollections, are these students misinterpreting what the instructor actually meant or said?” That’s certainly possible. But, police, military, citizen instructors and their courses all need to vetted by customers, sure. And, needless to say within those jobs, there is job leakage that won’t fit. For examples-
 
  • Do police really need military-based shooting courses?
  • Do the military really need police shooting courses?
  • Do citizens really need police and-or military shooting courses?
To some extent? Well, yes. To some extent? Well, no. Careful! Reduce the abstract. Its my old “who, what, where, when, how and why questions.”
 
It might be so quick, so easy and so legally course-sue-safe, especially for the class and instructor, to declare in a very brief citizen gun course that you can ONLY draw and shoot. Mandatory! But then, you can’t just draw and assess? Scare off? Issue verbal commands? Hide and ambush? Etc. Customize survival thinking to the plethora of situations?
 
 
Quick legal message, “point-don’t point” also means “aim-don’t aim” and are legal evaluations in court and internal affairs police investigations. For a reason!
 
I try to explain, but what really sinks in best is classes replicating and making them do repetitions with simulated ammo. Working through actual situations where each of the 5 decision steps above have historically worked and why they are so important. From a legal standpoint, these options must be explained and must be taught. Sometimes you CAN and SHOULD draw WITHOUT shooting.
 
 

Check out the Training Mission Books, which cover gun combatives. Click right here.

Hock's Blogs

HAVE I FALLEN ON THE KNIFE? BIG MISTAKES I HAVE MADE TEACHING MY KNIFE COURSE OVER THE DECADES

 

Or…How To, or How NOT To, Maintain a Popular Knife Course

Through time, the who, what, where, when, how and why, my original, once quite popular, Force Necessary: Knife combatives course “fell down,” “fell away” from pop culture. While I still get to teach it around the world, it has slipped way below the pop radar in lieu of other pop programs and my business mistakes. So, when did I take the fall? It happened slowly and then one day you are down looking up.

You see, the “new kids on the block” don’t know that before the fall, I once was “somebody.” In the 1990s I was part of a resurgence, a re-look, a re-examination of older knife material (which essentially was mostly a lot of knife dueling, and much of that based on swords). Things needed evolving. Things needed converging into performance coaching, modern law and rules of engagement. 

Back then, there were just a few of us (maybe just 5? 6? 7?) on the official generic “combatives teaching” circuit, in the magazines and on video tapes. 30 years ago his January, I created the Force Necessary (FN) program, with a main motto, “Using only that force necessary to win or survive.” The  program includes four main courses FN: Hand. FN: Stick, FN: Knife and FN: Gun (and I still teach FMA when asked). In the 90s, I’d been in police work since the 1970s both in the Army and in Texas, most of that time as a detective. I’d seen and experienced working on a lot of knife crime, as in aggravated assaults, rapes, attempted murders and murders. I myself have been attacked by both a knife and an ax. I won’t fail to mention here for the new kids, I’ve also been rather obsessively doing martial arts since 1972. Fifty-three years next January. From the military, police and martial arts, I hold certain perspectives in the use of the hand, stick, knife and gun that your friendly neighborhood Spiderman might not have…or know.

Studying and teaching “knife,” for 30 years comes with its own inherent, stigma problems and limited interest, we all struggle with. The knife world is also very small. So small, one might ask, “Why bother?” Why not just sell Italian shoes? What is this knife world? Who then prioritizes the knife and in what ways? My thoughts –

  • Group 1: Hobbyists (think collectors and martial artists.) One interest group are people who “hobby.” There is something historically and visually appealing about the knife and the certain shapes, construction, sizes and history of knives. People collect anything and everything, that includes knives. Think about the simple collectors of knives. To collectors, practicality and use does not factor much into knife collector’s minds. Just the aforementioned make-up. Most collectors never train to fight with them. A very rare few are “doing. The category of hobbyists includes martial artists. Filipino martial artists place some priority on the knife but seem to overdo the stick. Just look at all the FMA group photos and the practitioners holding sticks. Most other martial artists spend some time in sports and some work on only “unarmed versus the knife.” Just obsessing over dueling alone, is not maximizing knife survival. I am well on the record for supporting your martial hobby. Be happy. Just know where what you are doing fits in reality.
  • Group 2: Worriers. Another interest knife group is the “Oh no!, Oh, crap group! Knives exist everywhere! “So, we need to ‘do’ them, to survive.” This group mostly includes some aware ground-floor workers and worried citizens. Ground-floor workers? These are line operators as in “ground-floor” police and “ground-floor” military. And even then, knife studies are usually far from a priority for most of them.
  • Group 3: A smaller group of both. The third and smallest group include folks interested in both 1 and 2.

From a business perspective, these groups are the ones you knife folks need to advertise with. Good luck finding them all. Customer acquisition! As a teacher-practitioner, I am mostly in the above “worriers group,” dismissing anything fancy or artsy. When you worry, you worry about before, during and after the attack. None of this is a hobby for me and I don’t do cartwheels over various looking knifes, no more than I would if I examined hammers or saws. They are just tools. Your knife is nothing but a tool. But, the above 3 groups are the knife world we live in. What were my and other ‘s business mistakes?

Business Problem 1: The Knife Business is a Stigmata. I mean to say that studying knife fighting was and is still not at all popular. It might be a origin mistake to bother trying. A very rare few are “doing” it. Once teaching and learning, I don’t like many terms, images, messages, logos, etc. relating to the negative stigmas surrounding knife fighting, A rebel, thug, skull etc. persona.

Another motto I have is “Help me, help you, stay out of jail.” In short, I really worry about you going to jail. Every act of violence is both a trauma and a drama. Situational. This realistic and serious approach has outcasted  me over to a non-popular, non-trendy knife course. With many existing, pop knife courses, the teachers and dogma-doctrine have a terrible persona of thug, prison shiv, skulls…basically some sort of mafia, under-sub-culture. There was recently an actual “Knife Mafia” club. Some even look like the Mexico death culture. They think it’s cool. But it is actually counter-productive in the big picture and well…stupid. If your instructor looks and dresses like a thug? Well…think about it. This macho, rebel, leaky-criminal persona does not serve you well in worldwide, criminal justice systems. I might add in this context that the gun culture of civilized countries is extremely concerned about the law and staying out of jail. The knife culture should pay close attention to this approach also. The stigma with knives is worse than with guns.

These realities are not too popular for the “new kids” that want to appear a bit rebellious? Learn and-or teach slicing, dicing and gutting people with a knife, void of situations and the law. This marketing can be naïve, reckless and immature, incomplete and a ticking, legal time bomb for you. All the legal prosecution needs to do is show a jury a few of these system names (course names and knife names are so, so important) photographs, logos, teachers and characters and you the associated user, become jailbait. I say stupid, but still they are “money smart,” and more popular and sought after than me. By the grace of God they go…until…they have to use that knife. Mature survival is surviving-enduring before, during and after a violent event. The end game – as in the legal aftermath, is a big part of a well-thought-out, course.

Various ultra-violent, “skully” death messaging should be reserved as a primer mentality for very serious, military, combat groups. THEIR war psychology. Their war prep. Their war world. Not cops and certainly not every day, walk-around citizens. Mimicking them makes you look like a wannabe punk. Look at the lawsuits filed on cops and citizens – go ahead –  have a little death-engraved-logo on your gun (or knife) and see what happens when you shoot someone. Have a patch or tattoo of a grim reaper with a knife, or a skull with a knife through it, and see what happens when you have to legally use a knife. We the police, the prosecutors search your history. Take this idiot for example – I read one New York City, very popular, international knife “cartel-liberty” group headline atop a Facebook page:

“I love it when I carve someone’s balls off and put them in his empty eye sockets.”

Shit man, you think you’re Rambo? You probably work in a fucking supermarket. And you think and talk like this? You need to be on watch list. Fantasy jerk-offs like this give us all a bad name. But images and expressions like this, or near like this, this mystique, does attract a certain sick customer, usually young, or young in the brains anyway. (By the way, after my public complaints and comments on this guy, this must have reached the then Colorado headquarters and this sick-moron took that line down.) 

Stigmata-wise, many still call knife training, “knife fighting,” but I don’t like that term, even you are still indeed, fighting with a knife.

Business Problem 2: Failing to Emphasize the Knife Enough. I escaped all existing systems by 1997. Just quit. I had-have a dream! I seek to produce the seamless hand, stick, knife and gun fighter, standing through ground. You do what you got to do, with what you got, where you are. So, this halfway means I do not over-emphasize a knife course or any single course. While I was once in the 1990s and 2000s well known in our small world “for the knife,” I am not now, which puts me behind the knife marketeers. I have built four great, competent individual, non-sport, survival courses which I blend. I can clearly debate ANYONE on course doctrine points. Each course stands a lone, but shooting for the big hand, stick, knife and gun fused end-user, final product has cost me in the knife marketing “ground.”

Business Problem 3: Being too Independent. Another business problem for me? No “flags.” I have no crutch system, no flag to fly, like Pekiti, JKD, Brazil-Mania, Krav-mania. Silat. Arnis. Bruce Lee. UFC. No uniforms. No 12 knives on a vest. No tribal brotherhoods. It’s just little ol’ me flapping in the wind about the knife. I can’t attract these extraneous-system-people, capture super search martial arts terms, as some of those attached are obligated to attend. Despite my avoidance, we business-mature know the established advertising fact the “the grass is always greener on the other….” side of the street? Other country? The sewers of Spain. The temples of Thailand. The monasteries of China? The borders of Israel…the…and so on. Me? My mistake is I appear to be just a bland, white boy with some info. I don’t even have any tattoos! 

Business Problem 4: Rise of the Replicators. Of course, with all businesses, this 1990s and 2000 knife movement kicked off a new interest and a fair number of new knife courses popped up often by less experienced, less organized people, and in my opinion doing less comprehensive programs. But this business evolution is to be expected. Invent a new “widget?” There’s a knock-off widget. Then knock-offs with an “S.” In the big picture of training and education however, not widgets, this can be a positive thing. Awareness. Curiosity. Growth. Evolution. And then sometimes no growth. Still, the old often helps the new. The “standing on the shoulders” thing.

Some 25-odd years later, in about 2015, on a popular public forum someone asked me what I thought of Johnny Swift’s new, knife, quick-draw article in an internet magazine. Of course, it wasn’t called knife quick draws. It was named something super-spiffy like “Armageddon Instrument Production,” but it’s just knife quick draws. It was declared brand-new, Biblical-worthy advice Swift preached, and published in the new amazing world of web-jargon magazines called like “Organic Micro Evolution of Edged Prophetic Dynasty.” (I really just made that magazine name up, but how far am I off? You remember that recent trend of densely tech-naming courses and articles?  Weren’t you impressed, or can you see right through the disgusting, abject pretentiousness? Twenty and 30 year-olds salivated with these techno titles though! But thank goodness that trend has been dissolving. In this case, it’s really just “stress quickdraws.” It’s not “Rapid Production of Edged Antiphon.” or other poorly veiled, douchebaggery. 

Anyway as requested, I read Swift’s ground-breaking, testament as featured in “Retrograde, Skill Supremacy, Elite Magazine” and I replied on the public forum –

“Oh, I have to like Swift’s article. It is virtually, word-for-word,
from my 1995, Knife Level 1 quick draw outline.”

“WHAAAAT” said the young world? My review/remark caused a lot of guffaws and a few smart ass remarks, among the 20 and 30 year old readers, most of whom were so submerged in modern “dynasty jargon,” up to their fad-beards in mystique, and lost in the web world. They’d never even heard of us older guys from the 1990s and 2000s. I mean, who am I to comment like this on their latest fad-boy genius? I added that I was not suggesting that Johnny Swift plagiarized my outline, as it might have innocently been co-opted, or the older info has become so, ever so embedded into the “knife world” it was deemed as open knowledge. Or it was invented, like language, in isolation. I get that. Sure. That happens. (That level 1 knife outline is/was free to the public and has been distributed for literally 3 decades now, and my knife book – declared as the best knife book ever – has been for sale since the 2010s.)

One guy was clever enough to say, “Well, sorry I missed you when I was 5 years old.” Ha! I told him that really was a pretty damn, clever, funny retort. It was really. But missed me? Dude, I never left. However, actually, he never knew I was around to begin with. That is part of…the “fall.” I added in that discussion with Mr. Wise-asses that the spread of education was a good thing, and I  probably partook in that process. I reminded the “guffawers” that I participated. I said that the old helps the new. As a great gun instructor Dave Spaulding likes to remind us, “It’s not new. It’s just new to you.”

I also frequently read these days, what is considered catchy and new terms, ideas and expressions that I already published and advertised decades ago. For just one example – a newer knife course (populated by death skeletons and skulls and counter-culture) uses the working-man-world word terms of “Journeyman,” “expert,” etc. Tradesman titles, etc I used first in the 1990s.

Contemplating these copycat things, I consider this list:

  1. I was pirated. Or,
  2. I contributed and was not credited. Or,
  3. I contributed to a base of general knowledge, of which no one knows the sources. Or,
  4. The information grew organically and independently and by coincidence and it matches my old material.
  5. If a “new kid” saw my knife book and rank list levels today, they probably would declare that I stole it from another new kid. Oh the irony.

But anyway, inside a comprehensive knife course should be:

  • Who what, where, when, how and why questions
  • Knife vs hand. Knife vs stick. Knife vs knife. Knife vs some gun threats.
  • Standing, kneeling, sitting and on the ground.
  • Saber and reverse grip experimentation.
  • Skill, flow, speed developing exercises.
  • Knife combat scenarios and situations.
  • Lethal and less-than-lethal applications.
  • Legal issues, rules of engagement and related smarts.
  • Criminal history knife research.
  • War history knife research. 
  • Here’s your subject-topic outline list. What are you doing to maximize each subject-topic in your knife doctrine? How competent and thorough is it? Or do you just want to play around with this very deadly, dangerous subject?

Mistakes in business. So, me? I’m boring. No mystique. Not isolating the knife enough. Not promoting people fast enough. No skulls. No flags. No carved out-eyeballs. No macho persona. Just generic methods. No weird hats, clothes or tattooes. These are some of the ways I didn’t play the game, and have shot myself in the…well…stabbed myself in the foot in the fad, knife training business. How about you? Are you maximised? Subject to fads. Watch the market? Who, what, where, when, how and why?

Just a few of us were those innovator pioneers and helped turn some tides in the 1990s and 2000s into what it all has become today, for better or for worse. Maybe you young fellers will learn from my mistakes? Establish new standards? Flesh out topics?

It’s always good to mention and/or thank your prior teachers once in a while. I always do. But, before you young knife guys make any sarcastic jokes about me and the few other 1990s guys again, keep in mind…your modern instructors might have, probably has,  “peeked” at all my and our, long established materials. Some will not confess to it. Or, our materials have become such standard, general knife doctrine that these younger guys don’t even know of us. But, guess what? I might just be your long-lost grandfather.

————————————————————-

Hock’s email is Hock@survivalcentrix.com

Get what is still called by so many, the greatest knife book ever, 1000s of how-to photos in the topics above, click right here. (Now in a big second updated edition.)

Hock's Blogs

RIPPED CALLUSES AND SMOKING RATTAN

 
On a rather famous FMA page, a member asked for opinions on-about the pros and cons of Remy Presas Modern Arnis. I answered…
 
Three people are responsible for spreading FMA around the world in 70s, 80s and into the 90s. Leo Gaje, Dan Inosanto and Remy Presas. This reality is somewhat lost in martial history.
 
There are just a few of us left who remember a period of a more complete, diverse, head-banging, Modern Arnis. I hate to start naming names and not mention everyone, but people like Dieter Knuttel, Tye Botting, Dan Anderson, Tim Hartman, Chad Edward, Mark Lynn – well please, please forgive me for the too short list of names, you know who you are – that recall a hardcore, very diverse “old school” Modern Arnis.
 
For one example, through the years getting Remy to teach knife was like pulling teeth. Unarmed vs. the knife? Plenty. Filipino knife fighting? Disappeared with him through the years. I had to cajole and beg him to do a 2-day knife seminar in 1993. As long as it was a small group, he did it. (It was-is hard to teach knife in a giant seminar that included kids and young adults.) Some things just evolve away.
 
By the way, Remy NEVER looked artsy and flashy. If he ever did, it was a total accident and not his plan. He was committed to efficient, clean stripped-down movement. This was one major lesson for me. “Don’t look pretty. Don’t look stylish. No dance. Do!” THAT…is “tattoo-advice” in fighting. In that vein, he was also pretty vicious as ANY stunt-demo person will confess.
 
(Tattoo advice is a joking term I use about advice so important it should be tattooed on your body!) 
 
 
As time and age marched on, it changed a bit into, well, more of a realm of stand-still, stick, Tapi-Tapi, which was always a part, but became a bit more prominent. For example, I recall a time when working on super-power-hardcore stick strikes were mandatory, long training sessions. He would stalk around yelling at you to strike harder. HARDER! Things like that. Ripped calluses and smoking rattan. These elongated sessions, well, can become boring, exhausting and not very “commercial.” The newer, later materials seem to be taught more today.
 
In the big picture (and nostalgically) I like those old days. These “old timers” know that era, that material too, and know what I am talking about. Ripped calluses, and smoking rattan.
 
*********
 
 
  
Hock's Blogs

HE DROPS THE KNIFE! WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?

 

HE DROPS THE KNIFE! WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?
Convergence knife. Converging the law and rules of engagement with knife training. If you achieve a disarm, and the criminal drops the knife, ever wonder what to do next, I mean legally? What might some legal issues be? It could be tricky, depending upon the who, what, where, when, how and why of your situation. You might ask:

-Who Knife?
-What Knife?
-Where Knife?
-When Knife?
-How Knife?
-Why Knife?
* You could write a book about these big and small answers. (Wait a minute. I already have! See below.)

I do want to start off here by either introducing or reminding everyone that knife training in ANY martial art or combatives is usually done situation-free. Just moves and drills. Some duel just for fun and history. Just know were you fit in the big picture. Many fail to include stress knife quickdraws, usually ignored (a whole other problem for many, especially many in FMA where weapons like knives and sticks just magically appear in their hands from the start). Drills and moves are usually empty of reality ramifications.

I usually grimace when I see these video clips of instructors absolutely butchering unarmed opponents or Bob dummies. I know the videos are only slices of life and I can only hope their actual courses have great depth in law, crime and situations. But, I also know that some of them are depthless schools for thugs and future prison inmates who will act reflexively and thoughtlessly as they were taught. Using a knife even in what seems to be a perfect survival, self-defense predicament may still has a terrible stigma with consequences.

Let’s burrow down on only one topic. The disarm of a knife and what happens next. Probably the most useful, practical disarm of a knife is an impact disarm. Much training smartly centers on this common sense category – whacking his weapon bearing limb hard with your knife (or stick, or whatever). He loses the knife!

Now the knife is grounded. Man disarmed. His lethality greatly diminished. You charge in to kill, kill, KILL!??? As taught and seen from macho instructors and slice and dice? Blood and guts? What looks so cool on film can be your ticket to the penitentiary. Are there prosecutors, courts and juries around the world that will prosecute and even persecute you for stabbing and slashing open this suddenly, newly disarmed-unarmed person? Oh, yes there are. In many naive eyes, a dropped knife is no longer a lethal force situation.

One of the big “where” questions is “where did this fight, this disarm happen?” London, England? Berkeley California? Any jurisdiction of liberal dingbats? There, people will say, “but he no longer holds a knife. The lethality is over.” This could become an arrest and expensive troubles for you and maybe a death sentence?

Also the legal system will investigate the name and material in the knife course you take and the name of your knife. Some knife courses are horribly named! And some knives too. How many knives are on you? I did a seminar last weekend and a very “normal guy,” listening to various, over-zealous instructors carries THREE militant-looking, fixed blades everywhere, every day, along with his rigged up pistol. THREE knives? I didn’t do that on task forces serving arrest warrants on wanted felons. He goes to the mailbox like this.

But I like to remind people that the dropped loose knife is just right there on the ground, nearby to some extent on the floor, and all the bad man needs to do is pick it up (in a second of two) and it is a lethal force situation again. Instantly. So, remember that when explaining yourself later. It is still very deadly dangerous. Juries need to hear this possibility. They are just flat out dumb about these things. Plus, and needless to say, this suddenly disarmed man might be a young, giant and still very much an overwhelming threat, even if unarmed.

One solid avenue is learning “less than lethal” applications of knife use. Beyond verbal skills, and getting out of Dodge, and wounding-only, it has been well proven that the mere presentation of a knife (or pistol) versus armed or unarmed attackers have scared the criminal off over half the time, in DOJ studies year after year. But the fact that your system and you are inherently worried about use of force issues may help you in a legal jam.

Situations! Details. Details. Details. Motives. The police. The prosecutors. The court. The jury. Location, location, location, as they say. There is a story, a drama and a trauma with EVERY single act of violence. You have to survive the legal aftermath too.

Find a good, mature, thorough, professional knife system. Find an average, practical knife. Stay the heck out of trouble.

 
Hock's Blogs

CPR AT SAMBOS, OR HUSBAND KILLS WIFE AND WATCHES…

 

“Sixty-five…fight on the Sambos parking lot,” the police dispatcher announced, as Glen Nowles and I prowled the midnight hour, wintery north Texas streets in our squad car.

“Ten-four,” I replied, and off we went to yet another pain-in-the-neck family argument, or redneck versus hippy, or disco versus cowboy, or, or…you get the picture and the numerous combinations that can happen after clubs-bars hours .

Sambos Restaurant. Odd name, huh? It was a chain like a Denny’s restaurant we see so much today. The names were changed to be more politically correct, but some historians say the name was never a derogatory black theme. It actually came from an abbreviation of the owners Sam Battistone and Newell Bohnett. The photo above is a franchise replica of out city’s Sambos.

The logo was often that an Indian boy, as in India. Open 24 hours, near Interstate 35, it was always a hotspot for the multi-culture drunks after the bars closed. When the country western bars and discos closed, many of the drunk patrons flooded into the all-night and late-night restaurants. And of course, we had our hands full with these knuckleheads. Quite a mix. Roy Rogers at one table. John Travolta or Dennis “Easy Rider” Hopper at another. I’ve had a few knock-down and drag-out fights and arrests in places like this.

When Glenn and I rolled up to Sambos, we did not see any fight in progress, but rather a downed woman and the Sambos manager out front on the wide sidewalk of the restaurant. Shivering from the cold, he waved us over with a motion of desperation. As we ran from the car, he yelled,

“He hit her and she fell. She’s dead! I think she’s dead!”

Probably knocked out when her head hit the pavement? Typical, I first thought. I went to her head and lifted it to see or feel for a wound as Glen grabbed for her throat and felt for a pulse.

“Did you call for an ambulance, too?” he asked the manager.
“No, just the police.”
“Well, call an ambulance,” Glen ordered, and he looked at me. “No pulse. No pulse,” he told me. “She’s dead.”

We began CPR on her. Glenn started working on the mouth and I took the chest, as we were taught. We switched positions, but worked non-stop, for what seemed like an hour, but it wasn’t. Both
Glen and I recognized her as someone we knew, an emergency room nurse at one of our hospitals.

She suddenly gagged! And coughed! What a sign, and her body started to spasm. She even started to mumble.

Glen and I dropped back on the cold ground beside her, pretty well exhausted. She sat up in complete shock, babbling about where she was. I wanted to say “from hell and back” but refrained. Who knows, maybe she went the other way? We all three sat there on the sidewalk. In the distance, we heard the sirens of an ambulance.

“Your heart stopped,” Glen said.
“My God, my God,” she said.
“What happened?” he asked.
“My husband and I…. had a fight. That is all I can remember.”
“He hit her!” the manager piped in. “He hit her, but she fell when he hit her in the chest. Hard in the chest!”

Apparently, it was a heart-stopping strike to the chest. Not all that unusual really. The ambulance pulled up and EMTs charged out with gear. They began checking her out as Glen and I stood up.

Typically, we follow the ambulance to the hospital and get all the complainant’s contact information to fill out a crime report. The next day, detectives would work the assault case, domestic or
otherwise, and that is the typical routine of that age and era.

“Did you see the car the husband left in?” I asked the manager as I stood up, and as the EMT crew readied the woman for transport.

“Left? He didn’t leave,” the manager answered.
“What? Where is he?” I asked.
“Well, he is right there,” and he pointed to the first booth in the corner of the front door. Through the huge glass windows, there sat a man with a menacing expression, smoking a cigarette, facing us with a cup of coffee on the table. He was right at the front window; directly facing us and saw everything we did.

“Him?” Glen asked, about as astonished as I was.
“Him,” the manager replied.
“He sat there and watched us do all this?” I said aloud but to myself mostly.
“Yup,” the manager said. “Sat there the whole time. watching.”

Glen and I exchanged glances. Now, getting someone’s heart to beat again is an emotional experience. It is a ride unlike no other. A ticking time bomb that must be diffused before explosions occur in the head and then in the body. It is a race. Then somehow, if it works, the magic of the universe kicks in. The spark of life. The heart beats yet again. So, to think that the husband sat and watched all this. Death, and life again.

I think I was the first to march toward the door. I was quite young then, and I was ready to destroy this guy with my bare hands. I am sure Glen, a bit older, was ready also. But, as so called, professionals we put the “skids on” that, squeezed the adrenaline before we entered the establishment. I sat at the table across from the guy. Glen stood. The husband barely looked at us. Coffee cup in his hand. he stared out the big window.

He looked like an unshaven, smelly scumbag, an uneducated, middle-aged drunk waste of air, time and space. Of course, that is such a snap judgment on my part, huh? I just wanted to toss that hot coffee right in his face, the cup and all, and smack him out of his seat. Couldn’t. But if he made so much as the wrong move? My dream would come true.

The conversation went, to the best of memory, something short like this:
“Coffee good?” I asked quietly.
“No,” he said.
I nodded.
“Any guess where we’re going?” I said.
“Jail,” he said.
“Coffee’s not much better there either. Maybe worse.” I said.

All that angst, as actor/writer Billy Bob Thornton would call it years later – “angst and shit,” and it came down to a calm, few lines about the coffee. Iconic. Laconic. Ironic.

“Up,” I said. I stood. He stood and Glenn cuffed his hands. Glenn searched him as I watched. We marched him to the squad car. No chance for a fight. I guess he could tell that Glen and I were about a thread away from going rodeo right then and there all over him.

Instead, we booked him into the city jail for aggravated assault and the rest is history in a set of books I ain’t read yet. We went to the next call. The detectives did their thing. The D.A.s office did their thing. 

I guess they call us professional when we keep our cool at times like these. Sometimes it ain’t easy, but it got easier as the years rolled along. I grew a callous on my hide that was once three inches thick. But I see that cover peeling away now, that bare unpredictable nerve coming closer to the surface again. I hope I can keep some of both that callous and that nerve.

We continued to see the nurse at work for another year. She got a divorce. With each encounter with her, behind the curtain of our conversations, was some kind of a bond. Funny feeling. She told us she was back in school. She graduated with another medical degree and moved away. So, the nurse got a divorce and moved away. That ex-husband by the way? Turned out he really was an unshaven, smelly scumbag, an uneducated, middle-aged, drunk, waste of air, time and human space. A lot of my snap judgments do turn out. Imagine that.

There was a bit of police history here too. As the years went by Glen, I and others did save a few more lives out on the proverbial “streets.” We weren’t EMTs who did this routinely, but we did once in a while. Oddly, ironically, decades later when our police department became more modernized and larger with the times, a new police chief instituted a medal for lifesaving. The first recipient had rescued a woman from a burning car wreck as I recall, and the young officer deserved some creds for his actions. Sure. This medal with news media, was awarded at a big, department ceremony. Great rounds of applause. Yipee.

But some of us older hands sat quiet and could not help but think of the times we had saved lives in the past years. A quick, accidental exchange of glances in the ceremony between me and other older vets said it all to me,
“Oh well, guess the new kids get medals now.”

Such is life. And death. Imagine trying to reward all those deeds retro-actively anyway. How exactly would you do that? And who among us would walk into an admin office and ask, “Can I have a medal, please?” Not me. Not the other vets either.

The medals are a good idea, though I guess, for the future. Good for morale but also it is a special moment to do such a thing. Real heroes doing real work. But the “across the street at the fire station? The hospitals?  People are saving lives all the time. Way, way more than any of us every did.

Hey, even CPR has changed these days, emphasizing more on the chest pumping and way less on the mouth to mouth. Check out the new courses. You never know when you need it.

Check out these police memoirs books from Hock, click here…

Hock's Blogs

ADVERTISING MARTIAL ARTS AND COMBATIVES SEMINARS

 
Instructors! Instructors! Instructors…
In the last 29 years I have made certified instructors and black belts around the world from the USA to Australia. I think about 150 or so. You can see them on our instructor page. While some are inactive, many are active and frankly quite active. And by active I also mean very busy making and doing seminars. I get the news of these seminars, and some ask me right out –
 
  • “HELP ME ADVERTISE MY NEXT SEMINAR!” or,
  • “HELP ME SELL ____,” or
  • “HE KNOWS I AM GOING TO _____, WHY ISN’T HE…”, or,
  • “WHY ISN’T HE LISTING ME, I Will BE…”
I would love to, but with some 150 people, this would turn my Facebook pages into non-stop ads for seminars and products! (This is a similar problem I have with Presas Legacy page. I cannot allow FMA seminar announcements or stick sellers, etc.)
 
“But you helped Joe with his seminar! It’s not fair!” That is what I am afraid to hear from a friend. Once the advertising dam breaks, to be fair, if I start doing this for one instructor? Then I must be fair to all my instructors and the damn water floods the pages and people stop reading the page. Hey, I am actually a little uncomfortable advertising my own seminars, but I must, lest of all promote ALL of the ones of others. My name supports your name in the big picture. The more I am known, the more the instructors benefit from our affiliation.
 
To write this “dam” message, I use these guys in the attached photo as an example of a few of our great guys doing some upcoming seminars. Please look at their tags and see what they are doing, but I still have to maintain the “Advertising Dam.” My thumb is now back in the dyke hole.
 
 
  
Hock's Blogs

THE FIRST MURDERER I CAUGHT IN TEXAS, I THINK…

The first murderer I caught in Texas was an interesting case. I think this was the first one there, but it might have been the second. I can’t remember for sure. If you are indeed used to that kind of thing, it was typical of murders in many ways; if you are not and new to it all, it was shocking. But all murders have many intriguing, classical aspects in the timeless, human drama and trauma of life and death.

After years in patrol and an investigator in the US Army, I was no “first rodeo’ guy when I got to Texas. In my first few months on patrol in in Texas in the 1970s, I was riding shotgun with Officer Ron Atkins. About 4 a.m. one night, we got a call from an angry neighbor in what we once called “shack-town,” the projects, or the “poor” part of our city … you get the nickname; you get the very sad picture. The neighbor reported men fighting in the house next door. I later heard the original call on tape: “They’s fightin’ something horrible next door. “They’s young, drinkin’ people, and I don’t know what all is goin’ on over there. They’s yellin.’ They’s screamin’ something horrible. I can’t get a nod of sleep!”

On this street, the walls of those single-story, old, small, wooden houses were very thin; and noise would carry. I reported “10-4” to the dispatcher, and Ron headed that way. As we got close to the block, Ron turned out the headlights to approach the house as quietly as possible. Classic patrol tactics. Then, as now, we boys and girls in blue would get ambushed in route to disturbances with some frequency. Lights out. Never park right in front. All that tactical stuff.

It was pretty chilly as I recall, and it surprised us both to see a nearly naked man alone and busy in motion in front of our target house. He was a tall, thin, black male dressed only in cut-off jeans. We coasted closer and watched him. Ron finally decided we needed to see what was going on; and he pulled on the headlights, high beams, and our takedown lights, powerful light bar beams from our car roof that really turned darkness bright like a movie set.

WELL! This young man was busy working at the trunk of his car. The trunk was open, and he was wrestling with … a lifeless body. The body was as long and lanky as he was; and as quickly as he would shove an arm into the trunk, a leg would roll out and vice versa. The man was covered in swirling blood stains, that is, blood painted in circles and swirls on his skin. In my business, that generally means people were bleeding and fighting.

He froze in the bath of those bright lights. I can still see that picture in my mind today. He was half crouched over, eyes wide. Incredulous and shocked. There was no way he could identify who we were behind our bright lights.

I turned to Ron and said calmly, “I guess we got a murder?”
“Yeah,” Ron, too, said calmly.

I sprang out of the car and pulled my Colt Python .357 magnum and pointed at the man. “Police! Hands up!”
He stood straight up and shoved his hands up high.

Ron and I approached from opposite flanks and handcuffed the man. Ron knew him immediately, “Terry, what is going on?” he asked.
“Ohhhh, MANNN! This mother-fucker tried to kill me.”

Terry was indeed cut by a knife and had multiple slashes. I looked in the open trunk with the help of my Maglite flashlight – the large black male in the trunk was also cut up. He, too, was naked except for cut-off blue jeans. I felt for a pulse. None. It was more than obvious that Terry had put the body in the car planning to dispose of it later. Terry tried a few real Swiss-cheese excuses as Ron walked him back to our squad car and used the hand mike to call for an ambulance, a Sergeant, and for CID. He sat Terry on the ground and started to talk with him and inspect his wounds.

Curious, I walked into the house with my gun up and out. The house was partially furnished and, where so, it was with very old and pitted junk. All made worse, if possible, by the signs of a struggle. The living room was an upturned mess; and where it connected to a dining room, a cheap table and chairs were tossed away and turned upside down. There was an ancient carpet on the floor, and it was covered in a giant bloodstain. And atop this ritual, wet, red site? Two big kitchen knives. I imagined two 6 feet 2 inches lean black guys in matching cut-off jean shorts, no less, ducking, stabbing, and slashing. And yelling loud enough to wake the neighbors.

I saw a dim yellow light on down a short hall; and gun barrel first, I made my way into the room. On an old bed lay a white girl about 20 years old, later I discovered quite drunk, and with long blonde hair. Her shoulders were bare. She clutched a soiled and crusty sheet up to her chin.

“They were fighting over me,” was all she said to me. That pretty much told me a lot.
“Get dressed,” I told her. A duel. A duel for the “fair” lady.
She did, and I guided her out to the front of the house. By now, ambulances and supervisors were arriving. With my arms folded and the two of us leaning against a car on the street, I got a preliminary tale from the girl.

The sad story went that the girl was from out of state and attended one of the two big, local universities we had. She met Terry somehow (as Terry was hardly college material) and began this…this so-called affair. Terry then shared his best friend with her, but the sharing became too tense and complicated. Call it love? Territory? Honor, I guess? Call it what you will. And so, Sir Terry and this Sir Friend had to duel it out with kitchen knives over the fair lady in the dingy little dungeon of the castle. Murder ensued.

In the end, it was another torrid love story in the near-naked city of cut-offs, a mythic melodrama as old as the knights of yore. The duel of edged-weapons, as if told by Shakespeare himself. In the end of the courtroom case months later, the third act you might say, the prosecution could not prove who was defending himself against whom? And Terry Raygins received about a six-year sentence. He was out on the street in two and a half years on parole.

Terry was the first or second murderer I caught in Texas, that I can remember (after 50 years). The very least the first one with Ron Atkins. I got to know Terry as the years went on. He stayed out of major trouble after that. These fair damsels can make you do crazy things.

Post Script: And through the years, I also got to know most all of the Raygins family. All was not well at Raygins’ family castle either. They had a huge family and were a colorful bunch of troublemakers and sad sacks. Poppa Raygins was a hard-working factory man whose feisty wife had tossed him out of the house one winter. Tossed him out … to the garage, that is. Daddy Raygins lived in the unattached, dilapidated garage at the end of the driveway for several years. No heat, no air. We used to drive by and look down the driveway and see ol’ man Raygins watching TV in his garage, or showering in boxer shorts by the yard hose, cooking on a hot plate, and sleeping on an old couch. If he sneaked into the house, his wife would beat him and toss him out. A time or two, I had an occasion to walk up the drive and talk to him, because? Because that is what good patrol officers do. They know the people of their beats.

One day Daddy Raygins decided his hot plate was not enough. He needed an electric stove in his garage. With a stove he could cook better than on the hot plate, and he could also leave the oven door open and heat the place in the winter. He bought a used kitchen stove from RayBlevin’s Used and Repaired Used Appliances. He cleared a space in his cluttered garage, plugged it in, turned it on, touched the metal contraption and electrocuted himself. Fried stone dead. His crispy self lain in the garage a few days until someone eventually saw him, found him and called us. Kilt by a stove he was.

His wife said, “Good riddance to that old bastard.”
Sometimes, life ain’t so pretty in the various Camelots we find for ourselves. Things can get mighty rotten in Denmark. Sometimes.

Book 1 coming soon about the patrol years. But get this detective years Book 2 of Hocks Memoirs right now: Click here for it.

 

Hock's Blogs

INTERRUPTING THE QUICK DRAW

“Interrupting the Quick Draw.” or, sometimes I’ve call “Gun Arm Grappling.”  Martial, police and military material I have been working on for decades. When teaching this segment, I must cover as first  prep, a review the Stop 6 problems. The gun (pistol and long gun) (also in the stick and knife course.)

  • Stop 1: The stand-off no contact, Showdown “collision”.
  • Stop 2: The Hands-On collision – fingers, hands, weapons grabbing.
  • Stop 3: The forearm collision.
  • Stop 4: The Frankenstein collision, hands ranging from biceps through neck grabs.
  • Stop 5: All the Bear Hugs collisions.
  • Stop 6: Groundfight collision.

    Through the Stop 6, must-be-covered topics are:
    * Identify situations.
    * Identifying gun carriers.
    * Identifying gun carry sites on the body.
    * Identify reasons why guns and knives are drawn.
    * Identify many physical tip-offs of quick draws.
    * Identify your drawn decisions (see photo attached).
    * Identify the elbow and-or hand position of common draws.
    * use arm-elbow-hand-catch grappling of many draws.
    * and more…

    The draw process for you and your enemy starts at the carry site, through the draw on up to the presentation, and firing-use. The photo above describes the actual decision steps of a crime or war draw. Some people think it’s just “shoot-don’t shoot.” But life… situations and circumstances define the big picture.

    -Sometimes, why are you there? Why can’t, didn’t you leave?
    -Sometimes, why actually did you see fit to draw?
    -Sometimes, weapon out, but should you lift and aim it?
    -Sometimes, shoot-don’t shoot?
    -Sometimes, stay or don’t stay? Wait-don’t wait?

    All this and way more in my FORCE NECESSARY: GUN (and FN: Knife and FN: Stick course applications) course. My gun course is nothing but sims ammo combat scenarios. No live fire.

    “Marksmanship aside, you are not really learning how to gunfight unless you are training versus moving, thinking people who are shooting back at you (with sims).” – Hock

See all the free, full hand, stick, knife, gun and FMA training films click here:

 

Hock's Blogs

KNIFE FIGHT and the JAILHOUSE SUPERBOWL RING

It’s time boys and girls to rerun my knife fight story and the Superbowl player and the ring…
 
 
Our city in North Texas boasted two Superbowl player residents. And the two of them were as different as day and night and as racially typecast as one could imagine. One was a retired white guy in a very big house with many investments. The other was a black guy from what one might call our slums, or projects. He had no such monied investments. And no such home. He was older than most players but still playing ball. And every off season, he would return home to Texas. And every off-season he seemed to get into trouble of some sort. Both these guys wore the big brash and legendary Superbowl ring. I never met the white guy, but I did meet the black guy. In fact, he kind of saved my ass one Saturday morning, back in the 1970s…in a knife fight.
 
In one “hood” in our city we had a old drinking place called The Wine Tree. It was a bar, but not a bar. It was an open house with a jukebox and the booze flowed (illegally sold) along with the drugs. An old, crippled man named Willie lived in the back room and “ran” it with a henchman or two.
 
Through time you learn, either by emergency calls or by investigation that many of that area’s crimes, at some point started, ran through, or ended up at the Wine Tree. Did Willie have a liquor license? A business permit? No. It was just a house. An open house party 24/7. The neighbors didn’t care. Hell, they hung out there, too.
 
The attendees parked everywhere and the dancing and drinking and conniving and hustling spilled out onto the pounded-down and dry front lawn, and out onto the streets. There was even a jukebox in there.
 
The next mornings, especially after weekends, The Wine Tree had a hang-over. There were always stragglers still hovering on or about the property. One Saturday morning either a neighbor reported a fight in progress out front of the Wine Tree, or I drove up on this fight. I just can’t remember. I was a young turk back then and worked this district. I was just as fearless as I was dumb. As I drove up to the Wine Tree, I saw at least three men arguing and another two others apparently interceding and peacemaking. The peacemakers weren’t doing so well. In total, five knuckleheads bandied about.
 
Two of the arguing guys started a sloppy fight. The other three guys started in cheering or jeering. Some in the general area scattered. Some remained at a distance, on-looking, rubber-neckers in the general area.
 
I got out of the car and tried my hand at this peace-keeping routine too, but these men were charged up on who-knows-what-all from the night before and pissed off. My Gestalt therapy training just wasn’t working, and the two main men crashed in on each other. I dove in trying to separate them. And wild fists flew. Then a third guy jumped in, and I’ll tell you it was a free-for-all. Everybody against everybody, and I wasn’t winning. I wound up half-wrestling, half-punching with one of them as the other two, struggled off a few feet and bumped into us.
 
Then one of them pulled a knife. It was a switchblade. He was cursing up a storm, and this whole event was going south very badly. He was not cursing or pointing the knife at me, just the other guy he was originally mad at. Then, to satisfy the arms race, one of the onlookers passed the other unarmed man a knife!
 
“Put down those knives!” I ordered.
 
They did not. The peacemakers and a few gathering onlookers did bail back about 15 feet when those knives came out.  Some onlookers got involved and grabbed my arms. I think, as if, to stop me from shooting their friends I think. They tried to keep me away. They tried holding my arms as if to protect their fighting friends from me.
 
HA! So that “drop it,” command of mine didn’t work and I had this gut-crushing feeling this would end with my gun out, maybe shooting somebody and it all turn, six different kinds of crazy bad. I pushed back, got free and damned if they didn’t re-grab me.
 
These two armed goons cursed a blue streak and were dueling as in a comedy of moves, slashing and stabbing at each other in uncoordinated, wild lunges and swings. But a knife is a great equalizer from fools to kings.
 
Then suddenly a stout black man charged up. From the proverbial “nowhere.” He was not drunk. He hit the guy hanging on my right arm, using his shoulder and we both pushed this pain-in-the-ass off of me. Without hesitation, he pivoted and ran up to one in the knife party dance and belted him in the side of his head, with a fist, a forearm, or an elbow? I can’t say which. It was a blind side, sucker shot. The man did not see it coming and was so stunned, he dropped the knife on impact, stumbled off and fell.
 
Arm now free, I pulled my Colt Python pistol. The onlookers gasped and cursed and groaned at its sight. I stepped before the other armed man and told him I’d kill him if he didn’t drop the knife. I got in such a position that the other drunk that was first fighting with me, now shared my gun barrel time too.
 
The guy with the knife just stood there, tip of the knife aimed at my face, his eyes all google-eyed, bloodshot and watering, his lip busted open and bloody. He was wavering before me like a heat wave on booze and drugs. It would have been funny, but for the knife, the jerks around me…well, frankly, actually I guess it wasn’t much funny at all.
 
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned him.
 
Good God, was I going to have to shoot this stumbling drunk? I decided I would if he lunged at me.
 
Meanwhile, this hard-charging citizen hero snatched up the loose knife from the ground and walked right up to the man before me and removed the knife from his hand while the drunk just stared at me. I ordered the two men on their knees. The first was already grounded.
 
The hero stood there like my professional backup! And, I wondered where my official back-up unit was, speaking of backup. They didn’t get there in time. One thing I could tell was, everyone there, knew this guy and were obviously more afraid of him, than me….me being the PO-lice! Who was that un-masked man?
 
Two pair of handcuffs hung on my belt, and I had three men to shackle! I cuffed the bystander guy fighting me with one pair, figuring if he were damn fool enough to fight with me before, I needed both of his hands linked up now. Then I split my second pair of cuffs with these two so-called, “knife fighters.”
 
“There ya go. Now go on and beat yourselves to death now,” I told the two handcuffed together slobs. “See if I stop you again.”
 
At this point I didn’t care if they clobbered each other down. One cuff to one’s right hand, the other cuff to the other man’s right hand. This way if they both ran off, it wouldn’t be too easy to run. In theory, one faced one way, one faced the other, (but in actuality, one of them could cross their arm over for them to run. Anyway, that didn’t happen.)
 
Other units arrived, and we carted the men away. I had to get the name and address of this hero for my crime and arrest reports. I thanked him profusely. He was all smiles and told me everything. I’ll call him “Ray Wilson” here.
 
At the station, our Patrol Lt Gene Green wandered into the book-in room and wanted the sitrep. After my report, he said,
 
“Ray Wilson? He plays for the _____________. Ya’ met Ray! Ya’ see his big Superbowl ring? He comes home every off-season and stays with his momma. He gets into some kind of trouble every year.”
“Well, he sure helped me out of a mess here!” I said. “He needs a medal.”
“Just wait,” Lt Green warned. “You’ll see him in here for somethin’ er’ another.” By “in here,” he meant the book-in room.
“He comes home every year and sorta cleans up after his relatives’ and friends’ bad business. He has a helleva’ family. Always in trouble.”
 
That Wilson clan. Oh, yeah. Those kin folk! Well, I saw his point. What a shame. The guy just charged right in and helped me.
About a month or so later we were on midnight shift, and I walked through the station to the squad room. The old headquarters was situated kind of funny because you had to walk through the book-in room of our jail to get from the front side of the station and into to the back squad room. There on the book-in room bench, sat a handcuffed Ray Wilson. My Wine Tree hero.
 
He was arrested for assaulting some men with a baseball bat! Some kind of a family, revenge/vendetta, just like Lt. Green had suggested would happen. Ray nodded to me as I approached and passed through. His possessions were laid on the book-in counter, ready for safe-keeping collection. A worn wallet. Some pocket change. An old watch. A belt…and a big, golden, Superbowl ring.
 
“Take care of that ring,” Ray asked cordially.
“We always do, Ray,” the arresting detective said.
 
He retired in our city, took over the family’s, older home and then years later died of old age, but a poor man. He was one of the regulars I would stop and talk to, once in a while, through the years. He was a really good feller from and in a bad place.
 
—————–
Hock’s two new novels. Check out all the books right here.