Original subtitles

This is my partner, adventure cameraman Lee Green.

Here he is learning about the ancient Japanese science of Aikido.

I am pitch-hitting for Lee as he gave me the story by overseas telephone.

Because at this moment he is on assignment in Kumoy.

With him in Tokyo was his companion and friend, Herman Jessen.

Here is Lee's story as he would tell it to you himself.

My friend and partner, adventure cameraman Lee Green.

It's eight o'clock in the morning and the

start of a busy day for Herman and me in Tokyo.

I want to look into Aikido and see if there is an adventure show for us.

And the ten o'clock was scheduled to film the

grand opening of the new television tower.

This is a 70 yen cap, which means that you ride a

mile and a third for the equivalent of about 18 cents.

And incidentally, you don't tap in Japan.

You really get a ride for your money.

There are three classes of cabs in Tokyo, the 60 yen, which seem to be piloted by

stunt drivers, the 70 yen by racing car drivers, and the few 80 yen cabs by

surviving and retired members of the first two groups.

Jay Walker is in Tokyo, lived dangerously, but

the less agile they obey the traffic signals.

Face masks are a common sight all over Japan.

If you have a cold, you wear one.

In spite of my tight schedule, I enjoy the ride.

And soon we're watching activity of another sort.

This is the exercise room of the Aikido school.

The young men in white shirts and black pantaloons are instructors.

The other boys are students.

To Herman and me, this looks like a cross between jujitsu and tumbling.

The instructors handle themselves extremely well.

But I wonder how they do if this were a rough and tumble instead of an I'm sure

the fellow doing the falling is cooperating with the man doing the throwing.

It's interesting enough to watch, but I don't

think it's adventurous enough for my series.

Besides, I've got a date with the tower.

On the way, I steal one shot of the entrance to Meiji Park.

And here's our 60 yen cab arriving at the new TV tower.

The tower has a five-story building at its base.

An observation platform about 650 feet up, and the top of its antenna is 1150 feet

above the street, 50 feet higher than the Eiffel Tower in Paris.

Herman and I get our press passes, and the

dedication begins with a religious ceremony.

This ceremony has a particular significance today, as the dedication of

the tower is taking place on the birthday of the well-loved Crown Prince of Japan.

They seem to have learned their lesson from Hollywood, all right.

Miss TV of 1959 cuts the rhythm.

Flash bulbs go off, and tomorrow all Japan will be brought

with publicity about this great event, and it is a great event.

The tower is a cooperative enterprise.

With two commercial television stations, and one educational television station,

sharing the facilities.

Our press passes give us permission to photograph

Tokyo from the catwalk, and what a sight it is.

From this tower, giant cameras will be able to bring all of

Tokyo in close-up to television viewers within a hundred miles.

Baseball games at Tokyo Stadium eight miles away can be photographed from here,

and brought into close-up range.

Traffic types or special events within a 20-mile radius

can be televised from cameras located on this tower.

Back in the observation platform, our camera is hard at work.

This is downtown Tokyo looking toward the bay.

Herman and I are having a wonderful time, and

I've got to get my pictures back to the states.

So down we go.

Eight million people in Tokyo, and I think seven million of them are here today.

Herman and I have worked crowds before, and we agreed if we got

separated to meet at the newsstand at the foot of the tower.

When I find him there, he's browsing in a book about Aikido.

If the pictures tell the story that I think they

do, we miss the whole point of Aikido this morning.

We missed meeting Mr. Ushiba.

The book cost 300 yen, almost a dollar.

But it proved to be my passport to a real... on his threshold was Mr.

Ushiba, the patriarch of Aikido.

This science was founded by Yoshimitsu Minamoto in the year

1120, and was handed down in his family for generations.

It was taken over then by the Takeda family.

And here is a legitimate successor of the art.

Mr. Moritaka, Ushiba.

One year was Aikido.

I studied this frail old man and think how he

must miss the strength and vigor of his youth.

Mr. Toe, I wonder if we might, without offending

Mr. Ushiba, inquire as to how old he is.

One of you who could inquire of Mr. Ushiba, how many students he has trained.

As he talks, I realize that Aikido is more than an exercise, a sport.

It is a religion, a way of life.

About 100,000.

It's my understanding that in the instruction of training of the Aikido,

it is not just a physical routine or a sport or

a means of defense, but a training of the mind.

Ask him if he would briefly tell me about the circle of the...

As Mr. Ushiba explains the circle to me, I realize that he is explaining a

philosophy that is equally true for the east and the west.

That truth and moral principle have neither the beginning nor end,

and always retain their position in the center of man's life.

I wonder if at this time you could ask Mr. Ushiba to give us the word or a

demonstration of his action during the time so

that we can get the sound of the word for Aikido.

The cross that Mr. Ushiba makes demonstrates the oneness of the earth,

east, west, north, south.

Man, created in the image of God, should make a shrine of his body.

And by doing so, absorb with any soul the truth of the universe.

Mr. Ushiba demonstrates how man's mind can

control his body by this long sustained note.

We go back to the exercise room, but this time we go back under the

guidance of a great artist, a great teacher.

We salute the participants in the exercises.

Mr. Ushiba explains to me that there are 2,664 separate techniques in Aikido,

and that Aikido is based on the art of gentleness, of having your enemy use his

own power and physical violence to overcome himself.

Aikido means making your spirit within your opponents,

bringing your movements into accord with his.

Aikido is the application of the principle of gentleness.

As I watch the exercises, I see that it is always the attacker who is thrown.

I see that the instructors are gentle in their demonstrations and use only the

amount of skill necessary to upset their opponents.

It is, as I thought earlier, an application of skill

and knowledge, and this is the reason it looks easy.

Aikido is a sport of the mind as well as the body, and I am going to see if Mr.

Ushiba will accept Herman and me as students.

Mr.

Ushiba agrees to accept us as students, and our training begins the next morning.

We salute our teachers, and as students have done for

you, sit at his feet to learn.

We begin with meditation and a prayer that we

shall use our newfound wisdom and strength wisely.

Aikido involves total control of every muscle and thought.

These exercises loosen our muscles and prepare us mentally for the lessons to come.

Many days are such simple exercises as these are

needed before you are introduced to the students.

These exercises with their undercurrent of religious significance under the watchful

eye of Mr. Ushiba make me realize that there is a relationship between the mind,

the soul and the body, and that the mysticism

underlying Aikido does serve a useful purpose.

Herman and I have been studying seven hours a day for the past ten days,

and now it is time for us to begin our training in the techniques.

This is known as training in kata, or form.

I am told to attack my instructor.

He uses an application of the forearm turn.

Although I outweigh him by fifty pounds, I

find myself on the mat, thrown without force.

Now it is my turn, and I enjoy it.

But it doesn't last for long.

This time it is a reverse handhold that upsets my apple cart.

He shows me how easily this is done, and what an

important part balance plays in the whole operation.

If someone grabs your wrist, you will know what to do.

I start him one way, and then beam off balance, down he goes.

I suggest you don't practice anything.

There is not any of this at home without an instructor.

Too forceful an application of pressures will snap an arm, a wrist, or a leg.

He makes it look so easy.

Oh, poo!

Herman is still skeptical about Aikido in a rough and tumble.

His instructor agrees to operate on the principle of gentleness.

Weighing 126 pounds to Herman's 190.

This could be fun.

Somehow or other, Herman can't get his hands on him.

And down he goes.

In spite of the weight advantage, and the disinclination of the instructor

to use the more deadly techniques, Herman can't handle him.

Notice the perfect balance of the instructor and

how he forces Herman always to be the aggressor.

Now he decides the time is come to exercise control.

And he does.

Herman is totally helpless, held there by the pressures of a single thumb.

Herman is convinced.

Mr. Ula Shiba has graciously consented to show us some of the fine points of Aikido.

He asked that this tech be used only for his protection and not to injure anyone.

These are the more advanced exercises, and I

doubt very much that I will ever learn them.

Now he salutes his instructors and prepares for the demonstration.

And

what the demonstration it is.

Now too.

This is what I call balance.

Now the stick.

This is what I call balance.

This is what I call balance.

This is our frail old man.

His strength is truly as the strength of ten.

Mr. Ula Shiba does me the honor of climaxing my apprenticeship

in Aikido by demonstrating his technique with me.

Mr.

Ula Shiba

This is the master at work.

And I wish Herman weren't enjoying it quite so much.

I'm sure that the training I'm getting here will someday come in handy.

On another rendezvous with adventure.

Thank you very much.