A Strong Man Falls

I did not know that Mr. Chen was taking pain pills, and as far as I knew, he was recuperating well from his surgery. We continued training through the end of the summer, and Mr. Chen had relocated to Plainsboro, NJ. His condominium bordered a big park, and the condos had a huge Chinese population living in them. Finally Mr. Chen and his wife were surrounded by people who they could communicate with, and the park was a bustling with people on the weekends. I showed Mr. Chen my photo album, and he happily looked at pictures of Jindao and his family, his old kung fu brothers, and home province. A bunch of new people had found Mr. Chen and begun to study kung fu with him, but only a couple of them were serious about it. For several others, it seemed to be an excuse to get out of the house, and although they treated Mr. Chen with respect, they did not respect the art. Mr. Chen finished teaching me much of the Shanxi Xingyiquan system in a very short time--the 12 Animals and Za Xia Chui. Mr. Chen would no longer accept any kind of payment from me, so I started bringing him a big bag of bagels and muffins. He stopped me from doing that as well, saying: "That costs money, don't ...."
I continued to see Mr. Chen a couple times a week, and would walk into the shady area in the park, calling "Sifu, sifu", and Mr. Chen would smilingly greet me for private training before the others arrived.

One day after training for a couple of hours, Mr. Chen left to go home, saying he was tired. I watched him walk off with his wife, and then he turned around. His wife waited behind while Mr. Chen strode back to me. A couple of other students were standing there, and one of them translated his words. "When you teach kung fu in the future, be careful who you show this to. You can teach the basics to everyone, but don't teach the real martial art to just anyone. They will have to have a good heart to learn this. Even those who seem to have a good heart should be tested over time. Don't teach them everything you know."
Then he turned and walked away. One of the other students said to me: "Why do I feel like I'll never see him again?" I took a deep breath, speechless. But see him again we did. The others knew that he was taking pills for his pain, but he hid it from me somehow. When I was told, I watched him more closely, looking for a sign. His shoulder was still bothering him, but I assumed that he was still recovering from the invasive surgery.

On the last day that I trained with him, Mr. Chen lost his balance while demonstrating a move. As his body pitched forward, his legs fought to hold him up. I was 20 feet away, and rushed to try to catch him, but could not get to him in time. Another student was standing next to him, and grabbed him before he fell. Even in a weakened state, Mr. Chen had such dignity--that same calm and reserved look on his face, and steel eyes that knew the martial secrets of the ages. About three days later, a day or two before Christmas, I got a phone call from Jinling. Mr. Chen had boarded a flight for Beijing two days after I last saw him; he was going to a special hospital of traditional Chinese Medicine. He had arrived in Beijing and spent a great evening with one of his daughters, son, and some grandchildren. He was happy and everyone had a great time. Mr. Chen went to sleep, and early the next morning, his wife found him cold. He had passed away quietly, without any fanfare--much the same way I had seen him live the last three years of his life.
Mr. Chen had given me a special book that listed the prominent martial artists of Shanxi Province--including Mr. Chen, Zhang Xigui, and their teachers. He carried that book wrapped in cloth and inside another bag. It was a special gift to me, but when Jinling asked if she could have it, so that her children would know about their Grandfather I gladly agreed. Jinling said that at the airport before leaving for China, her father had told her to tell me to keep training, and that he was sorry that he had to leave in the middle of my training. "Kung fu duo lian."

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