Against All Odds: My Story

by Norris, Chuck

  “Oh, Mr. Gracie, I'm not going to punch you.”

  “No, no, it's OK. Go ahead and punch me,” the elderly gentleman insisted.

  “Well … OK.” I halfheartedly brought my arm up … and that was the last thing I remembered! I was out cold.

  When I woke up and looked around, I figured out that the little old fellow had put a choke hold on me, robbing me of consciousness in a flash. And my throat felt as though it was going to be sore for days!

  Mr. Gracie smiled and said, “Chuck, stay here with me in Rio. Train with my sons and me, and I'll make you one of the best jujitsu artists in the world.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gracie, but I really have to get back,” I said, trying to swallow. I was preparing to do a film back home, so I wasn't able to stay longer in Brazil.

  Eventually the Gracies moved to California, where they opened a jujitsu studio, along with the Muchado brothers, four top-notch martial artists. Since then, the Gracies and the Muchados have become some of my dearest friends.

  Their approach to jujitsu is one of the most effective in the world, especially useful for close encounters, which most street fights tend to be. The Gracies could take an attacker down faster than anyone I've ever seen. Even in practice, they could get a person in a submission hold from which it was practically impossible to escape without breaking an arm, leg, or ankle. They also had an uncanny ability to shift from one move to another quickly and smoothly, leaving their opponents wondering what had happened! Their secret was all leverage, not physical strength, but believe me, they truly are the amazing Gracies.

  Since 1978, I have headed up an organization of black belt martial artists known as the United Fighting Arts Federation. Each year in July, I invite all my black belt students to join me at a convention in Las Vegas, where we train together for several days. For ten straight years beginning in 1993, the Gracies and the Muchado brothers have presented seminars at the convention.

  Once my black belt students become proficient in chun kuk do (the universal way), I want them to become adept in jujitsu as well. And there's nobody in the world better at jujitsu than the Gracies and Muchados.

  During the 1999 convention, Carlos Muchado, the elder brother of the family, asked me, “Chuck, why don't you help me out with my beginners.”

  “OK, Carlos. It will be fun.”

  Carlos was teaching a class comprised of twenty-two of our new black belts. Young, agile, and strong, these were the cream of our new crop of martial artists, and I was delighted to spend some time with them.

  Carlos asked me to participate in demonstrating to the class some holds and how to get out of them. I was showing one of the black belt students how to escape a hold, when suddenly he started grappling with me, trying to wrestle me to the ground.

  This wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

  But we were already into it, so I maneuvered him into an arm bar, a painful hold that he didn't want to endure for long. Almost immediately, he tapped the mat, which means “I give up!”

  Another student saw us grappling and called out, “Mr. Norris, can I grapple with you?”

  “Oh, ah …, oh, OK.” That student and I grappled for a few minutes before I got him in a hold, forcing him to tap out.

  Soon another black belt wanted to grapple. I started going through the entire class, one at a time. Many of the young black belts were college wrestlers in their early twenties! I thought, Oh, man, what have I gotten myself into?

  Victor Matera, an enthusiastic young black belt was in the group, standing by, closely observing the matches. Each time I made someone tap out, Victor would go over to Carlos Muchado and ask, “What would you do to defend against that?”

  Carlos would then show Victor how to avoid getting into that particular hold. As I continued to grapple with the row of students, Carlos continued dispensing information to Victor on how to counteract each of my holds or how to defeat my moves. With each student my available repertoire of surprise moves was being diminished!

  Finally I had subdued every student but Victor, who then came over and asked, “Mr. Norris, can I grapple with you?”

  “Oh, I don't know,” I said. “I'm pretty tired.”

  “Oh, please, Mr. Norris, let me be the last one.”

  “Well, all right.”

  We began grappling, and as I would attempt a submission hold, Victor managed to avoid it. He had the advantage of seeing all my moves, plus the benefit of Carlos's suggestions to counteract and escape my holds. Nevertheless, within about two minutes, I had the young man tapping out, as well.

  I was nearly exhausted, but the demonstration really increased my reputation with that bunch of black belts. “Mr. Norris made twenty-two black belts submit back-to-back!” I heard one of them say. I smiled, knowing that I wouldn't need any more ego strokes for quite a while.

  I love working out with my former students—or the students of my former students—but it gets tougher to keep up with them every year. On another occasion at the convention, the students were practice-kicking a dummy that was electronically wired to determine the force with which the students were kicking in pounds per square inch. Most of the students were kicking the dummy somewhere in the range of two hundred pounds per square inch. A few of them struck the dummy with almost three hundred pounds per square inch of force as registered by the meter. That's quite a wallop, and I was extremely impressed.

  “Mr. Norris, why don't you give it a try? Let's see you kick it,” one of my black belt students suggested.

  I hemmed and hawed a bit. “Oh, I don't think so … ”

  “Oh, please, Mr. Norris. Let's see you do it!”

  I finally acquiesced and said, “Well, OK; I'll give it a try.”

  I leaped up and kicked the dummy. I don't know what I did differently from our students; I must have hit the dummy perfectly or something because the meter registered an impact of six hundred pounds per square inch!

  “Holy mackerel!” one of the black belts shouted. “Nobody has ever done that. Nobody has gotten the meter above three hundred pounds, and Mr. Norris more than doubled that!”

  Believe me, I was as amazed as my black belts! The students looked at me in awe and went back to trying to better their readings. None of them kicked the dummy with half the force my kick had registered.

  I'm sure that my amazing kick must have been due to some sort of aberration in the meter, but as far as my students were concerned, I was an Adonis!

  CHAPTER 19

  AN UNEXPECTED ADVOCATE

  As a martial arts instructor for fifteen years, I taught thousands of young boys and girls, many of whom harbored deep insecurities that caused a lack of self-esteem. I loved teaching them because as they became more proficient in the martial arts, they developed a more positive attitude and were more secure in themselves. But these were students whose parents could afford to bring them to my martial arts school and pay for lessons.

  I often thought about the millions of young kids whose parents could not afford to send them to a martial arts school or some other program where they could receive these incredible benefits. How could I help those kids? That question stayed in the back of my mind for many years, but I was too busy with my film career to pursue the answer.

  It's amazing how thoughts we plant in our minds can eventually materialize into actions. My desire to help underprivileged kids didn't disappear with time but instead grew stronger, yet I was as surprised as anyone to discover how God would cause those seeds to grow and who would come into my life to help them take root and bear fruit.

  In 1988, I got a call from Lee Atwater, campaign manager for (then) presidential candidate, George Herbert Walker Bush. Lee asked me if I would emcee a political rally in Riverside, California, for Mr. Bush. I was reluctant to accept, partly because I had never done anything like that. Nevertheless, I told Lee, “If Mr. Bush wants me to emcee the program, I'll be glad to give it a try.”

  I'd been politically involved for some time and had gotten to know R
onald and Nancy Reagan through an invitation to participate in a charity tennis event for Mrs. Reagan's “Just Say No” antidrug campaign. My first brush with the Reagans came about when my secretary called me in my car one day and said, “Mrs. Reagan would like you to play in a charity tennis tournament ten days from now in Washington. Would you like to go?”

  “Oh, yes. Tell her I'll be glad to play,” I said. When I hung up the phone, it suddenly occurred to me, I don't know how to play tennis! I'd never picked up a tennis racket in my life! But I had ten days to learn. I hired a tennis instructor and worked like mad trying to learn the game. Ten days later I was in Washington playing in Mrs. Reagan's charity tennis tournament. I didn't do too badly although I sent a few shots sailing over the fence and into the street! Mrs. Reagan didn't seem to mind, so I didn't, either!

  Although some critics have not always been enthusiastic about the pro-America stance I've taken in my movies and in my personal life, I've always been grateful for our country. I'm big on voter awareness, exercising our right to vote, and voicing our opinions. As my mom always said, “If you don't vote, you have no right to complain. You're getting what you asked for.”

  I remained politically involved throughout the Reagan-Bush terms of office but usually from a distance—until that call came from Lee Atwater in 1988 inviting me to participate at Riverside.

  The Riverside rally for George Herbert Walker Bush was a huge success with about fifteen thousand people attending. It was great fun, and I was honored to speak in support of Vice President Bush. When Mr. Bush took the microphone, he quipped, “I can't begin to tell you how safe I feel standing here next to Chuck Norris!”

  The crowd loved it. It was obvious that Mr. Bush and I had a rapport right from the start. I genuinely believed in him as a candidate and as a person of the utmost integrity. I would have voted for him even if I had not been involved with his campaign.

  The Riverside rally was such a huge success, Lee asked me if I had the time to go on the campaign trail and emcee other rallies. I liked George Bush, and I was in between shooting and promoting my movies, so I was glad to oblige.

  We traveled throughout Northern California on a tour bus, going from one town to the next. Mr. Bush had been tagged with a “nice guy” image by the media earlier in his campaign, but once I started traveling with him, the press changed its tune. “Here come the two tough guys,” they'd say. Mr. Bush loved it!

  During the campaign Lee Atwater and I became good friends. Lee was a brilliant young man who had a photographic memory and loved watching movies. He had seen every one of mine, and he'd often quiz me about my own films. “Remember when you said so-and-so in that scene in one of your old movies?”

  “No, Lee,” I'd respond. “I don't remember. That movie was long ago.” Later, when I had a chance to watch the old movie, I'd discover that, sure enough, Lee had remembered correctly and quoted the lines verbatim.

  I also got to know Mr. Bush during that presidential campaign, and found him to be a very special person. When I first started traveling with him on the campaign, I was fairly shy, which is my nature, but Mr. Bush immediately made me feel as though I had known him for years.

  I soon discovered that Mr. Bush is also incredibly loyal to his friends. He doesn't forget those who sacrificed their time, money, or effort on his behalf.

  When Mr. Bush was elected President, I was invited to the inauguration, and at the gala celebration I was asked to give a speech along with Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was seated next to Arnold and was slated to speak first. Arnold kept nudging me, saying under his breath, “You're going to blow it, Chuck. You're going to forget what you planned to say. You're going to flub your speech.” Arnold is infamous among his friends for doing things like that, but I kept telling him, “Keep quiet, Arnold! I have to concentrate.” Fortunately, my speech went quite well, and I later got a chance to sit back and heckle Arnold.

  Arnold and I go back a long way. We've known each other since 1968, before he became an internationally known film star. When Arnold first moved to California, he was known as a world-class bodybuilder. Arnold and I used to work out together occasionally. In between exercising, we often talked about our ambitions. I said, “I'm satisfied teaching the martial arts.”

  “Not me,” Arnold responded. “Bodybuilding is just a stepping-stone to me. I plan on becoming a real estate mogul, and from there, I plan to get into the movies.”

  I had to smile as I said to myself, How's he going to be an actor when he can hardly speak English?

  I wasn't the only one who had such misgivings. When Arnold announced that he wanted to become an actor, he was turned down on three counts. First, he was told his body was too big and muscular. (How would you like to have been the person who had to tell Arnold that?) Second, he had a strong foreign accent and often spoke in broken or poor English. Third, his advisors suggested that he change his name.

  Arnold was undaunted. He set about the task of trimming down his body by adjusting his eating and exercising program. At the same time he studied the English language and struggled to improve his enunciation. Arnold stood his ground, however, when it came to changing his name. Instead, he vowed to make Schwarzenegger a household name.

  I don't know anyone any more determined than Arnold. Today we refer to my friend as Governor Schwarzenegger!

  Lee Atwater had arranged the details of the inauguration gala, complete with a rhythm and blues band to celebrate the successful election of George Herbert Walker Bush. Lee, who played the guitar in his spare time, got President Bush up on the stage and gave the president his guitar to play. President Bush was good-natured and pretended he was part of the band. It was hilariously funny, and the entire time I watched the spectacle, I was thinking, I can't believe Lee has the President of the United States pretending to be a rhythm and blues star!

  After the election Lee invited me to the White House and escorted me on a tour. We went to the office where John Sununu, the chief of staff, was in a meeting. Lee walked right into the meeting, and said, “John, I want you to meet Chuck Norris.” John got up from the table, walked over, and shook my hand. Lee then told me he wanted me to meet Jim Baker, the secretary of state.

  I said, “Lee, are you sure we should disturb him?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Lee said, “he's a great guy.” Lee Atwater wasn't intimidated by anyone!

  I was invited to the White House on several occasions for state dinners to welcome leaders from other nations. I took my son, Mike, to a state dinner for the president of Poland. While President Bush waited on the platform to welcome his arriving guest, Mike and I were in a crowd of thousands watching. A Secret Service agent approached me in the crowd. He pulled me aside and spoke clandestinely, “Mr. Norris?”

  “Yes, I'm Chuck. What can I do for you?”

  “The President wants to know if you and your son would like to go jogging with him after the ceremonies.”

  My first thought was, Can I keep up with him? President Bush was in excellent physical condition and ran nearly every day. I was in good shape, but running was only a small part of my workout regimen. Nevertheless, I didn't want to miss out on this opportunity.

  I said, “Of course! We'd be glad to.”

  Following the official welcoming ceremonies, the agent ushered us into a room in the White House where Mike and I could change clothes. A short time later President Bush came in and joined us, stripping down and changing into his running clothes, just like one of the guys in a high school locker room.

  Mike and I ran several miles with President Bush, surrounded by several Secret Service agents who ran in front of us and behind us. One of the agents carried an Uzzi hidden in a briefcase as he ran with us. It was a weird feeling but an unforgettable experience.

  That evening Mike and I attended a state dinner with hundreds of other invited guests. After dinner everyone was standing around in the ballroom that leads up to the First Family's private quarters. The President and First Lady were mingling with thei
r guests when I saw them walking up the stairs to retire for the evening. I was tired, too, and decided to leave. I was headed for the exit when I heard someone yell, “Chuck!” I turned around and saw that it was President Bush who had called out my name. He was standing on the staircase next to Barbara, waving good-bye to me.

  I thought, Who am I that the president of the United States would call out my name?

  I recalled the story of Zacchaeus, that little guy Jesus saw perched in a tree so he could see above the crowd. Jesus said, “Zacchaeus, come down. I'm going to your house today.” My guess is that Zacchaeus never got over that sense of wonder, when he realized, “He knows my name!”

  On a much more down-to-earth level, that's something of what I felt when George Bush waved good-bye to me from the White House staircase. What a man! With the weight of the world on his shoulders, he never forgets how to make individuals feel special. I feel blessed to know George Herbert Walker Bush, not only as the President, but as a good man, and as a man I respect as a wonderful husband and father. Whether or not you agree with his politics or his decisions as President, he is a man of integrity; he is the complete package.

  The next day Mike and I had lunch with the President and FBI Director William Webster. During lunch President Bush asked me what my future plans were outside the entertainment field. I told him I would like to work with the youth in America, teaching them the martial arts.

  “You've done that,” he said.

  “I know, but I would like to teach children whose parents can't afford to send them to a commercial school.”

  “How would you do that?” the President asked me.

  I told him I would like to hire black belt instructors to teach in the public school systems, specifically in the middle schools—sixth, seventh, and eighth grades—because those are the ages when many kids begin to drift into gang activity, drugs, and violence.

  “Why do you feel martial arts can help in these areas?” the President asked.