There are people that come in and out of your life. For some, the connection is brief, they come in one moment and they are gone the next. Others leave a lasting impression regardless of the time spent together. Peter Ting was one of those people for me.

Peter was a lifelong martial artist and his body showed it. His knees were bad and his fingers were deformed from years of striking. He started his training at age 4 with kung fu since his dad was a kung fu teacher. He moved on to judo, jujutsu, and finally settled on Aikido. Despite his apparent limitations, his movements were smooth. Never did I feel any extra muscular effort in his throws. He often said that Aikido is the perfect art – one that we can do for our entire life. I sensed perhaps a little regret that he abused his body with the other arts. On the other hand, I determined that he wouldn’t be who he was without the full life experience that he had.

Sharing words of wisdom

He would often walk up and whisper in your ear, telling you what to focus on. Sometimes it was something profound -“Hold your partners arm like you’re holding a baby.” Sometimes it was straight to the point – “On the street you don’t have time to screw around!”

It was as much fun on the mat as it was off the mat with Peter. He spent his last years in San Francisco where he taught at Robert Nadeu’s dojo. I drove up twice to see him and train. After class we went to Chinatown where he took me to a locals only type of place with some of the best Chinese food I’ve ever had. Peter had a wealth of stories of street fights, military service with General Patton in WWII, and of course Aikido. One of his most requested stories was of sparring with Bruce Lee. Here’s how  I remember the story…

Peter had a friend who owned a dojo in San Francisco where Bruce had been training. This friend told Peter about Bruce but warned him not to spar with him as Bruce enjoyed beating up his sparring partners. Not one to shy from danger, Peter went to the gym early the next morning to find Bruce working the bags. Peter doesn’t say a word but puts on his gloves and starts his workout. A few minutes goes by when Bruce comes over and asks Peter if he wants to spar. Anyone that met Peter knows the glean in his eye that always accompanied his smile.

Wearing a white belt as he often did in later years.

Bruce asks Peter if he wants to spar with or without gloves. Peter chooses to go without. When telling the story this is where Peter starts to imitate the trademark stance that Bruce used – one hand up, one hand down, and bouncing up and down . “Bruce was going like this. Dancing all around the room.”

“And then I spit in his face.”

Bruce’s face turned red and he leaped forward with a punch. Peter then dropped him with a kotegaeshi. Peter took a couple blows in return before they stopped. Peter was happy that he proved his point. Bruce was pissed. Peter never explained himself to Bruce but later that day the gym owner called Peter. “Peter, what the hell, you spit in Bruce’s face?” “Yep” Peter replied. “After all of the years that Bruce spent in the martial arts I made him forget everything he knew just by making him angry.” I wonder if Bruce ever learned the lesson that Peter was trying to show?

In 1999 I moved to Japan but still exchanged a few letters with Peter. Shortly thereafter he was diagnosed with cancer and doctors had to remove the majority of his stomach. Despite these hardships, he always had a positive and fearless attitude. In his last letter to me he wrote:

“They can take my stomach but they will never take my spirit.”

Tomorrow I’ll be flying up to San Francisco again to train. I love the city but it’s just not the same without Peter… and without that Chinese restaurant that I can’t find anymore…

With Peter in front of Robert Nadeau's City Aikido

*All photos (c) Dave Contreras