Interview with Grandmaster (Jung Shee) James Patrick Lacy |
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Interview with Grandmaster (Jung Shee) James Patrick Lacy |
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| Interview with Grandmaster (Jung Shee) James Patrick Lacy: Revised – February 15, 2005
“Only 2.7% of Americans have had a prison experience.” CNN Headline News August 18th 2003. In Perspective: First off, let me explain that what you are about to read may shock some people. I was originally asked by the editor of a major martial arts magazine for a personal article about my past, growing up as a kid. I am 55 as of May 16th this year. Anyhow; I spent a year penning the article. She said she liked it, but would need to add some more ‘tough’ questions. I said fine and waited a year. After not hearing back I called them. The editor said although she liked my honesty, her boss the owner might get offended. I basically said fine, no big deal; after all, they queried me. Time went by and I got to thinking. After all, my Mom did not like the article, but she read it. Many did not like the article, however, some did. I wrote the article to be real with my loyal students and fans of my material worldwide. There is no shame in my game and what I write does not get censored or put on the back burner because some editor might not like it. Secrets do not advance ethics, and in today’s world, if what happened in my life from when I was born till about 30 over revelates and stifles the imagination of the sheltered, that’s too bad. I teach survival in the real world and after you read this you might understand how this background helped me to get somewhere in life, that other’s can only dream of. I was advised to remind folks in the article about all the good I had accomplished to help others since my last trip to prison over 25 years ago. I am not one who cares about being redundant. On my site you will see enough of a small portion of my good works spreading the arts to come to your own conclusions. Martial arts are just that. The following experiences are about my lifelong quest to integrate courage and faith in my Lord Jesus with making happiness a duty and not a destiny. I am an original hippie born in the Haight/Ashbury of San Francisco in 1950. I am street wise and nobody’s fool. What I have learned from 1950 to 2005 is that it is time to bring back Jesus in power and glory. Until He comes I will tackle this mission in the martial arts. I have friends of all races, colors and creeds, yet I apologize not for being real about my past life real experiences. Though I might live as a hillbilly in a metal trailer on unincorporated land, I stand tall with the rest of my Anglo/Saxon roots and democratic views. This article is dedicated to my cat Tim, whom Karin and I buried today after almost 18 years this April. He showed us the spirit of a Lion from birth to death. I love my government and I love my country. I am proud of my Irish name and will always tell my story loud and bold. Much love to you all! Finally, I changed the editor’s name and used my Mom’s instead. Fran: Jim; you are known worldwide for your numerous humanitarian efforts to spread your art of 18 Daoist Palms – that said, not many articles have delved into your past from your perspective. What got you started in the martial arts? Jim: Actually Fran, my first street fight at 5 (in 1955,) was my first step into a glimpse of my gift of spirit as well as my mission. Fran: What caused a 5 year old kid winning a street fight to veer toward an inner understanding of their mission in life? Fran: What kind of child were you in say grammar school? Jim: By seven years old I knew not only the love of God and the gift to win fights, I also became aware of evil. I define evil from 5th epochal revelations (The Urantia Book,) as “power over others and glory for self.” Fran: So then, were you basically good or evil? Jim: I would say a combination of the two. My grammar school like many in America around 1956 was being told to de-segregate. Don’t forget, that when I was born California was 90% white. We were the ‘good old boy’ guinea pigs in the democratic concept of cosmopolitanism. My good old boy networks were basically Protestant English and Catholic Irish. We were the pecking order and we set the tone. My Italian crime partner and I extorted other kids for silver dollars. We became traffic patrol kids to make it convenient to whip switchblades out on kids to intimidate them or get money. The other side of us would be to go to Catholic school catechism classes and then burglarize the local toy store on the way home. The grammar school principal wrapped my knuckles with a ruler because the drug store on the corner called to tell her I was lifting supplies. Fran: So were you a bully? Jim: Not really. I was more like Robin Hood. I protected kids for free and for a fee plus fought my peers on a different wavelength. We western kids were smart; boxing, wrestling and dirty trick oriented. I immobilized a Japanese kid whose father had him in Judo. It was a good fight. Once again Holy Spirit prevailed. This made a much larger Chinese boxer type bully want to take a shot at me. The guy was strong and bold, but forgot to take his glasses off. I used a type of Gattling gun straight punch routine. I smashed his face up but paused to help him with his glasses. This later fight was in Junior High. Fran: Before we go further to Jr. High, did you get in any major grammar school fights? Jim: My Italian Catholic friend and I almost let two Japanese girls talk us into fighting each other to see who the top school fighter was. My friend and I gave them a little show and then told them to screw off. This friend followed me to city jail, county jail and a mental institution prisoner ward. I beat up an Italian and then befriended him. I often beat up kids from other cultures and then half the time befriended them. Once in grammar school there was a white kid I did not like and a black kid. One on one they would not attack; but once they both attacked. I was absorbing the hits that felt like little girls hitting. I was feeling out the timing to go completely violent and ruthless on them. My Mom happened on the scene, broke it up and kicked my butt for not whipping their asses faster. I punked them both after that whether I found them alone or together. I also had a problem with a big German kid who was an immigrant. During our fight he reached for a pencil and stabbed me in the palm. I went completely violent on his face. He was ready for a trip to the hospital before the teachers pulled me off. I still have the lead stab ‘tattoo’ in my palm to show for it. Fran: What does punked mean? Jim: In those days it meant getting up close and personal hoping the other person would launch an attack just to give you a reason to go mid-evil on them. *Note: That is illegal! You don’t want a jury thinking you provoked anything. Nowadays we use a more subtle psychic enlightenment use of natural forces that are real but not all scientifically proven. I can tell you though, the training works. Fran: And where was the Holy Spirit? Jim: The Holy Spirit always reminded me to be kind with my special gift of fighting. Fran: Any examples of how you were kind? Jim: I was playing some baseball at the park when a Chinese thug (read de-segregated busing days,) decided to talk smack. My oldest friend ‘Middle John’ was there. He took his best pre-empt shot. I went with the flow and did a perfect (what you would refer to now as a Judo ‘Tominagi’ throw.) It just came naturally; I grabbed him in towards me and then lowered myself to the ground while sticking my baseball cleats in his groin and flipping him over my head. When he got up I pummeled his face into a bloody mess. He was clearly beat so I gave him dignity and let him be. I never rubbed it in his face or mentioned it again. Another park thug in grammar school cut my kite string. I went ape. This kid was so bold, quick and clever that just as soon as I almost was in reach of catching him, he fell to the ground for me to trip over. I was frustrated, but eventually cornered and boxed his head silly. We then became cigarette smoking buddies and crime partners. Tobacco was my first, other than alcohol, inkling that I was on a call to be a Shaman healer as well as ass kicker when needed. Fran: At such a young age, did this slow down your interest in sports? Jim: I cared more about kicking the sports goodie two shoes ass more than sports, although I still kicked around at sports. There were a couple of black kid thugs at our newly cosmopolitan Jr. High that felt threatened by me. I didn’t seek trouble. One day walking home from school this kid and his girlfriend followed me. She said: “Why don’t you fight Freddie if you think you are so bad.” Fred was a top athlete and in twice my shape. I kept walking, waiting for a sucker punch so I could go completely violent. It did not come. Fred made the mistake of taking my kindness for weakness. I punched him out from one end of the schoolyard to the other. We ended up good friends. Another black copycat punk talked smack to me in the stairwell to woodshop. I pre-empted on his face and bloodied him up. These were just in a year of Jr. High, only a portion! I was always proving myself. Fran: Did you play sports in Jr. High? Jim: I dabbled in basketball, football, swimming, boxing and wrestling. I pitched for Little League and Jr. High and swam intramural. I was even in the scouts, but ironically our scout troop was a mish-mash motley crew from the bad part of town. We loved to fight and run the summer camp. Fran: When did you start to feel you had leadership qualities? Jim: I learned a lot about myself as a starting pitcher. I always learned a lot playing with the unlimited weight, (mostly black) basketball team. They were huge ghetto kids that were basically bused to our school. I earned their respect by matching my combination of tough spirit/will and humor. They saw me beat up their own bullies plus the Chinese and Japanese. I never lost and yet always stayed humble. Fighting skill doesn’t always cross-over to all sports. That said, I did have natural ability. My life was turned upside down when we moved to the suburbs. I lost all the friends I had made since grammar school. My old Italian/Catholic friend would in time follow me through State Institutions. Fran: How did you adapt to the suburbs? Jim: I loved having an ocean view and being able to walk to the beach to surf or fish. The other jocks liked me. It was still Jr. High. I continued Little League baseball and pitched for the new Jr. High School team. Things were ok; I appreciated everything but missed the Haight/Ashbury. At around 13 years old, (1963,) I was turned on to pot by a neighborhood Jewish kid I used to beat up and then ended up protecting and befriending. He was a smart ass kid but had a sense of humor. His younger brother died buried alive in a self made cave at the beach. The first match box of pot was the beginning of my remembrance of my gift of spirit and indeed my mission. I started to see life from a more occult and metaphysical side. I was determined to find closeness to God within me via the “leaves thereof for his medicine.” Ezekiel, (Bible.) Fighting became more important and sports less. Some of the jocks in High School that I had known since Jr. High in the suburbs were very straight, anti-drug and boring to me. I was intoxicated most days from ’64 to ’68 darn near. I became an intravenous drug addict and psychedelic user as well as pot smoker and binge drinker. I became mean only after I saw how I was being judged by society for the forms of self gratification I was choosing. I went to Juvenile Hall twice in High School before being kicked out my senior year (1968.) The High Schoolers in the suburbs were starting to turn-on. I was a cult hero that they looked up to thus had to be eliminated. I remember my Mom was kind and took me shopping! I was so ahead of the class I only needed one history test to graduate. I actually graduated before the others! Before leaving High School I had a reputation for knowing my drugs. A group of addicts had robbed a bunch of heroin, morphine, pills and syringes. I had them turn it over to me and then I just kept everything. Me and my Mexican crime partner would sell fixes to junkies and sometimes fix them for free. We hung out in the Haight/Ashbury after school and weekends quite a bit, as well as the Beach, North Beach and the Mission District. This was throughout most of High School. The summer I was kicked out of school, me and my homeboys crashed into a train head on at 5:00 am on a trip to the connections house for heroin. We had spent the day dropping acid, smoking weed, shooting methedrine and needed heroin to come down. The accident was a life turn-around point. I fractured my hip, lost my spleen and a few other things that would affect me from then on. The latter part of the 60’s in the Haight was getting corrupt. Beatniks were out placed by pimps and players preying on the young white runaways from cities, suburbia’s and small rural towns across the country and some other countries. I had to start packing a piece. I went to get some crank from a dealer’s house who ended up treating me to a fix. I left later only to realize I paid him and had no dope. I went back, shoved a ’32 in his face and we settled things fine. Fran: I am beginning to understand why the late Grandmaster of American Kenpo of which you are a third generation family tree blackbelt once said in an introduction to your book on Self Defense for Senior Citizens; where he says “we should listen to you in these times that confront us for you have seen both sides of the law.” Jim: That was in the 80’s he said that! I was arrested in a street sweep by the task force on Haight Street. They blocked off the street. Hippies fought the police in open riots in those days. I was downing a quart of beer when I spotted their approach. I saw the other side of a police officer. They took my derringer that was loaded, and my stash. They asked me to run for it; that they would give me a head start before shooting me. Not very professional! I paid attention as they made me squat on a toilet naked as the main goon in full riot gear came in talking smack while jabbing home the message with the riot stick to the solar plexus. I had broken probation again! I stayed on probation or parole for 17.5 years straight from 1965. I spent time in 9 city and county jails throughout California and once in Oregon running from bounty hunters. At one point I was a fugitive from the F.B.I. They almost caught me twice, but getting busted with a few hundred peyote buttons in my backpack on the beach in Malibu led to an undercover arrest. I once offered a gas station attendant a free hit of acid only to be turned in and chased down by five Highway Patrol and Police cars, with the witness in their car to point me out. I did time with my Dad once. I came from a broken home, but my Mom and Dad stayed friends. He taught me boxing, knives and guns. Dad ran a couple of bars on Haight Street during the 60’s. He was being arraigned for attempted murder the same time I was being arraigned for manslaughter. It was during my stay at San Bruno County Jail that I got a hold of The Urantia Book via a Huntsville, Texas transfer prisoner who was allegedly the equipment manager of the Jefferson Airplane rock group of the 60’s. I took acid in that jail. Shortly after I became heavily medicated by staff. I had become claustrophobic and mad. I threatened the jail doctor. I was ready to start killing people for the hell of it. I was dead serious. They sent me to finish my time on a prisoner ward in the second largest state mental hospital. Within the first 24 hours I almost smashed a sucker puncher’s head into oblivion on the concrete floor. He would have been maimed or killed had not my Italian/Catholic friend from 1st grade not already have been there and pulled me off. At that point I ran the place, literally! I finished my time and was declared by staff to be eligible for SSI in their opinion. I moved to Marin County and had to go through counseling and testing, plus medication. I was expected to work on an assembly line with disabled people of every type. I quit and told the doctor I could not work there. I was then forced to go back for my final appeal to get my SSI. I put my feet on the doctor’s desk. I was hustling and living on the street. I had survived knife attacks and gun shoot-outs as well as fights in the street and institutions. I no longer cared for anything except to be heard. I told the shrink that if the white man could come over here and bully the Indians, then I would do the same; basically rape, pillage and plunder like a Viking of old. I also confirmed my belief in Jesus as the only ‘true’ Master. I told the shrink I would do good things in this life with the martial arts I had become involved in around 1972. He must have been an angel of The Lord when I needed one most. I was now an official poverty level jail bird nut case who thought his mission was to become a warrior shaman. It was always a fascination with the occult and world of dreams. I actually was an official apprentice to a Navaho Indian Medicine Chief and his family on an Indian Reservation in Arizona. I was able to go through the traditional ceremonies of a real shaman. One time around 1969 I was walking home to my commune right after watching the Chinese New Year Parade on acid. I was on my way home starting to ‘peak’ on the acid. I was jumped by seven masked gun men and shoved into a bar. Everyone was told to put their wallets and jewelry on the tables. I put 17 cents down and nodded yes when he asked if that was all I had. The guy two feet next to me whined and took a bullet straight through the heart. Another sniveler took a bullet between the eyes. The later was maybe 10 feet away. Everything happened quick and efficiently. It took a lone motorcycle officer about 15 minutes to respond. The gangsters were long gone. I calmly walked home from the surrealistic event. I had a showdown with a Muslim radical in prison. I was due to get out but wanted to send the guy a message. He didn’t like hippies or Christians. I calmly told him I would take his life. I told him to meet me in the hallway. He basically got punked and that was that. I practiced the arts daily in prison as well as every jail in Los Angeles County. I spent time in solitary for shooting up with the other inmates in the trustee tank. I would not click with any group. During a riot I stayed in the dorm watching television and planning to legally exercise excusable homicide on the very first attacker in the most heinous and deadly way possible so as to set the tone for others. No one wanted to test me. All real men respect a man’s man and I got along with societies so-called worst. Make no mistake that antagonisms among the races are a reality in prison. I watched these Muslim and other extremist groups form decades before 9/11. I also knew first hand how corrupt certain law enforcement could be; (some, not the majority!) I paroled to San Diego to stay with my dad in 1976. I immediately took my $200 gate money and signed up to continue my training in the arts I had started full time since 1973. I lived in flop houses and sometimes stayed at Rescue Missions and communes. Many times I was homeless and one time hopped freight trains from Oakland to Denver, riding on top of boxcars chained to the car while 15,000 feet up in the snow covered Rockies going through long tunnels and sometimes getting stalled in them for hours. I had a Volkswagen bus for awhile and traveled through most of the western states and especially the south. I did all this before hitting San Diego. I ended up going back to prison on a violation. My career has been going strong and in a positive direction since. There have been association fall outs in kung-fu but not my Kenpo roots. I left the politics of kung-fu when I saw wanabee cons trying to con a real con…me! Fran: Do you have regrets? Jim: Regrets are for sissies. I am only passing through this playground called earth. They don’t make the lessons tough enough. I know myself. I reached enlightenment. I cannot be manipulated, controlled or bullied. I am a leader who has experienced many sides of life. I survived and that is what I now teach. Others and history can judge me all they want. None of them will be able to kick my ass and that’s the bottom line. I’ll make you kill me! I was State raised and am proud of it. The military nor Harvard teach the courses I learned. Many talk the tough guy talk but haven’t lived it. Fran: In conclusion Jim, what is your advice to those reading this, imagining all the things going through their minds? Jim: I would tell them that if you could really ‘know’ every human that ever lived you would give your life for them, because Jesus already did. Judge not least you be judged. Therefore by the grace of God do you or I go. Try and live by the Golden Rule. Tell your background like it is with integrity and principles. Keep it real! Beware of goodie two-shoe types that don’t respect what I went through or others of similar pasts. When you become enlightened there is only reason to celebrate your survival. All else can be retrieved! The world is in the beginning of 2000 years in the Age of Aquarius. The extremists wishing Christians and Jews harm will be convinced that peace is better than getting their asses kicked. Jesus is America and America is going to lay down the law of love to the heathen. Those embarrassed of Jesus (Love,) will be embarrassed and in the end, the real enemies… herder/hunter China and farmer America will do cooperative instead of competitive business. Anarchists will be crushed at every turn. Folks will realize that for humans to accept peace as a normal mode of living they will need to live in an orderly non-chaotic universe where we all succumb to a higher authority and the division of church and state remain along with democracy itself as our countries’ crowning glories. Technology will repartee crime at every turn and natural antagonisms among the races will prove beneficial in identifying problems before hand utilizing communication to dissolve differences. My job will be to continue to certify others to teach and certify their students in what they successfully test at in our home study program, now in its 13th year since 1991. The California State Legislature has endorsed 18 Daoist Palms’ after school and Fortune 500 company programs. My wife of 13 years and I are going to incorporate and then go non-profit as a private foundation dedicated to preserving 18 Daoist Palms as a retreat center and museum. My advise to all is live religion through the “I am,” the life of and not about. Know Jesus is the only true ‘Master,’ and know that as you do what you will anyway, that we are a country of Protestant English pecking order, like it or not. Get along by realizing Jesus said, “if they are not against me they are with me.” That is profound. It means be aware that like a person deaf, dumb and blind…we all have to learn love, faith and courage. Stay grounded in your faith, whatever it is and live to serve others unselfishly. This article was not meant to glorify having to learn the hard way or insult anyone. It was meant to share what many would not. If one person learns from this article to make happiness their duty and stay out of trouble I have done my job.
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