I met Chuck Mauldin in 1991, during the summer just before I turned fourteen years old. He was 18 and had just graduated high school, and was also the senior student of Randy Moore, aka Sabutai Musashi, Head of the Eternal Dragon School of Ninjutsu in suburban Chicago, a place that would mark my first seven years as the beginning of my 45-year (so far) journey in the martial arts. The Eternal Dragon School was a very traditional dojo that taught Ninjutsu and other budo, and until I was 21 it was basically my home away from home. Chuck became a mentor to me during my critical teenage years and I am very grateful for having had such good fortune.
Chuck was a state-class track and field competitor in high school and a perfect role model for the beginning of my martial arts life. He was a stern disciplinarian, but always took the time to teach and explain, and to carefully instruct me in every technique. More than that, Chuck taught me through his actions and words that martial arts were first and foremost a mental discipline, a physical chess of strategy and tactics that would be won by the smarter man; the man with the greatest willpower. Over the years we trained together, I'm sure I never beat him in sparring, I'm sure I never even came close. That said, he always made me feel like I had done OK, and that my skills were improving. The mark of a truly great senpai.
After college, he became a law enforcement professional, working as a dispatcher for the DuPage county sheriff's department and later in the private sector as a professional bodyguard. He guarded many notable celebrities and executives, eventually becoming a highly sought-after executive security consultant and instructor at the prestigious ESI Academy in Colorado. From time to time he would visit Japan for work and very kindly would always find time to catch up over a meal.
Chuck inspired me to walk the warrior path originally, even more so than my teachers at the time. He showed me what this life could be and who I could become if I ever learned to master myself the way he had (I'm still working on it). The times when he would pick me up at school and drop me off after class were filled with him sharing the wisdom and knowledge I desperately needed, like the big brother I always wished I had. I was immensely proud of the life he made for himself and maybe, in a certain way, he was proud of me too. I'd like to think he respected me for making my life in Japan and staying on the path all these years, even if it was never my full-time occupation like it was for him.
A month ago, our mutual friend Ray, now retired from the DuPage county sheriff's department, let me know that Chuck had suffered a severe stroke and was now in a wheelchair. That was very hard for me to imagine, since I can only picture him as being larger than life, dynamic and physical. It was even harder this morning to receive news of his untimely passing. Part of me feels he just couldn't accept being anything less than the superhero he had been all of his life, and chose to let go on his own terms. A true warrior to his last breath.
The world is a darker place today with him being gone. I'm so grateful for the knowledge and wisdom he invested in me. He will never be forgotten.
I will miss you, Chuck, my senpai, my friend. I'll see you again before too long.
Rest In Power
