The "M" stands for Michael, and I heard "Troy Michael" a lot while I was growing up. That's what I was called when I was in trouble; which was most of the time.

Growing up— I was born on August 5, 1964 to Gary & Sorita Wussow, of Kansas City, Missouri. This is really where it all began for me—self-defense wise—during my birth. Something happened right before I was born, and I was delivered in a "Frank-breach" position. Mom said, "I damn-near killed us both." If you don't know what a Frank-breach is, it means: an abnormal breach. I was born butt first, with my legs crisscrossed indian-style over my head. My poor mom.

That's probably not too far from the truth (that I damn-near killed us both), but it is also more than likely the reason I was born with a hip problem called Perthes. It wasn't till around age 4 that I was diagnosed with it, after twisting my ankle while jumping off the family station wagon. After reflecting on this, following many prompts from mom, I realize how lucky I am that it was diagnosed at such an early age.

I spent a few months in a wheelchair, then a year or so with a leg/hip brace that required special shoes. My hip and leg were eventually healed, but the experience taught me how cruel people could be. I was teased and beat up frequently by the other boys in the neighborhood and at school. I also remember being embarrassed at my sister coming to my rescue, and on more than 1 occasion. These experiences established the paradigm for the next several years of my life.

My parents encouraged me to play sports and supported me during 2 years of little-league baseball, and another 2 years on the Leawood swim team. I was, however, poor at both sports. And it wasn't because of a lack of physical strength or agility; my physical handicap had developed into a mental handicap.

Many people have asked me over the years why I've learned so many different styles of martial arts, and why I earned 3 dan rankings in different styles; why not stop with one. The answer is simple. The anger and hate that developed from all those years of being scared, teased and beaten up turned into energy. Energy that I used to learn as much as I could, so that no one could ever harm me again.

I was afraid of people. I was afraid of sports. I was afraid of getting hurt. I avoided the other kids so that I wouldn't get teased and beat up. My best friends were the side of the house and my baseball card collection. I was a victim, and I continued to act the role well into junior high and high school; until I met Manuel Rabago.

I had begun to study Tae Kwon Do at our baptist church at 13 years old, and this was probably a good start for my physical training, but it was Manuel that started training my mind. It was Manuel's training [philosophy] that started my emotional healing. There is no doubt that I could have caused significant harm to the boys at school. But I didn't. In fact, I didn't even think about it. "The Martial arts are to be used for self-defense only."

I remember one occasion when one of my best friends, Rob Stang, came over to the house and saw me spinning nunchucks. He was shocked and a bit angry that I could do this and never told him about it. He got excited and asked me to go to the pizza joint that night and show off for some of our high school friends; which I did.

A crowd had gathered in the alley beside the pizza place, headed up by Rob, watching me spin the nunchucks. I noticed a few people in the crowd that had tormented me over the years. Needless to say, the rest of my junior/senior years were quite peaceful after that.

The Navy—Just a few months after graduating high school, I went into the Navy [July 27, 1982]. I had my heart set on becoming a Navy SEAL, but my Company Commander changed my mind during boot camp. He called me into his office and abruptly asked if I could kill women and babies on command. I replied, "probably not." I ended up trying out for the Navy Diving school instead.

I also made a very good friend in boot camp named Jim Trabing. Jim had studied Kung Fu, and he and I enjoyed sparring every chance we got. In fact, Jim and I frequently fought like brothers. Most referred to us as "the twins" as we were inseparable. And as a result of our sparring, everyone left us alone.

This was the first time I was around a large group of guys who respected and viewed me as a tough person. It was also the first time I found myself away from Manuel, and around other martial artists. I began to realize how proficient I had become with the martial arts. Compared to others, it appeared to me that I was a "natural", and people began to ask me to teach them.

I was also very grateful to manuel for teaching nunchucks. All those months of spinning chucks had paid off. I tried out for and was accepted on the drill company's crack rifle team. That was by far one of the most demanding, exciting, and rewarding experiences of my life.

After boot camp I went on to my welding A-School in San Francisco. After a few weeks of training I became the class Petty Officer, and I grew stronger and more confident as a person. I also practiced religiously in my dorm room. Following my A-School, I went on to Navy Diving school where I met Chief Brown.

Chief brown was in charge of the maintenance crew at the Naval Amphibious base at Coronado Island, CA. At that time he was a student of Aikido, and ranked Brown belt. This was my first experience with Aikido, and proved to be the beginning of my love for Aikido.

From the Naval Amphib base, I went on to join several of my friends from A-School on board the PCU (pre commissioning unit) Shenandoah. It was then that I met HTC Charles Kebert, AKA "Chief." I worked out with the Chief for several months, then joined the Shenandoah's Ship Self-Defense (SSD) team. I also helped out with off-duty martial arts instruction for several other SSD team members after we lost our SSD instructor. [That's another sea story for another time]

The first dojo—After I got out of the Navy, following several more years of training and preparation, I decided that I wanted to start my own school. I spent more time with Manuel, and he eventually helped me to open the first Aikijudo-Jitsu Ryu in Overland Park, KS. I had taught self-defense for the NAVRESREDCEN in KCMO for 2 years, and that was rewarding, but I wanted to have my own dojo.

Manuel specked out the type of mats he wanted me to buy, and he helped assemble them. The mats consisted of eight, 2" thick high-density polyethylene foam planks, connected and hinged with multiple layers of duct tape. Manuel tested the mats himself with a few side falls, and was quickly removed from the new dojo by his wife, Yolanda. She was not thrilled that he was tumbling on the mats. Manuel just grinned, and then winked, as he always did when he was in trouble.

Manuel worked at Hallmark as a master engraver. He had made several close friendships at Hallmark over the years, and one was a woman from Poland. The woman had a daughter she wanted to learn self-defense. The college they had picked out for the young girl had seen a few rapes that year, and the girl's mother wanted her to be able to defend herself when she attended the following year.

She, and her best friend from high school were my first students.