Blog

Robert Angotti

It was probably 1991 or 92 when I first saw Jae Cho. I remember this very clearly. It may have been my first Western Region, USAF Aikido Summer Seminar, maybe my second. It was in San Diego in the gymnasium of the San Diego University campus. I imagine I was agonizing over the journey I was about to face sitting in seiza for an hour or more watching tests. Jae saved me though. He lined up to test for Shodan across the far end of the gym. Beyond him the double doors of the gym were open providing a view of another beautiful San Diego evening. Despite these available distractions, when the tests started, my eyes were fixed on Jae.

Jae’s body grasped the earth with each step and rotation, emanating a deeply rooted power. His movements were captivating. His body, although supple and light, was forever an anchored triangle. Jae’s moves were sharp, and assured. His aikido had a crystalline clarity, and a ceaseless vigor. I was changed watching his test and I never stopped noticing joy and admiration arising in me when I watched him practice.

A year or two after that test, I had a chance to host Jae and his first wife for a Berkeley Aikikai seminar. We grew close rapidly. Within months he had moved to Berkeley to train with Shibata Sensei. We were all made better by his arrival.

When I think of the hours Jae and I spent on and off the mat, I inevitably smile. Jae had a sarcastic and somewhat contemptuous sense of humor. This was made more biting by his intelligence and wit. When we laughed, we both had a hard time getting the laughter (and the evenings) to end. Come morning, we frequently shared the same sullen, disgruntled face as we made our first moves of the day toward the dojo training mat.

Gradually, the years moved us apart. Now with him gone, I regret my failure to keep contact. I invited Jae to teach at my dojo years ago. I take comfort in knowing that his crisp aikido and his generous presence on the mat moved into my students bodies, never to be lost. I know much of his aiki essence is within me. Even now as I visualize him training I can feel my body striving to channel his poise, power, posture and presence.

My deepest sympathies are with Jae’s wife Megumi and their two beautiful children Gen and Ai. I hope someday to meet you both. Your father was a true friend, and a brilliant aikidoist. He changed me. His Aikido expressed a deep essence of this beautiful art. It was as though aikido and Jae had sought each other out. I can’t imagine the emptiness in your hearts with his passing. We lost him much too early and I miss him.

I am immensely grateful for the photos Jae’s wife Megumi has shared with me. In these photos I see all the essence of Jae’s youthful practice and all the love and joy available to a father sharing his passion with his family. I realize when looking at these images how much more Jae and I still have to talk about. When I strain my hears to hear what he might be saying now, I hear him ribbing me, “You’re so full of sh…!”

Rest in peace brother.