THE LIFE OF AUTHOR KENNETH G. GARY
Kenny’s life’s journey began on November 28th, 1952, along the Missouri River in the small town of Atchison, Kansas. He was the fourth born child of Printice and Wilma Gary. His older siblings Janice Kay, Printice Jr. and Hedy Michelle shared the Kansas birthplace. His two younger siblings, Alberta and Russell Craig were born after the family journeyed far north and established Minneapolis, Minnesota as their home.
Kenny played football at Central High School and was an accomplished track and field star, having claimed championships at the city and Minnesota state levels in the relays and sprints. His specialty was the 400 meter run. Most importantly his academic achievements were recognized with a scholarship to Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts where he earned a degree in Biological Anthropology.
While teaching science in Boston, Kenny became well known locally as a Martial Arts Guru. He performed thrilling choreographed sword fighting demonstrations with his sparring partner and good friend Nasim, in spite of an occasional injury. Martial arts were always an essential aspect of his life and as Sensei (teacher) Kenny established the Dojo Code that guided him-
We should always seek in ourselves the perfection of character we seek in others. We shall always practice patience, kindness, sincerity and understanding. We should always maintain maximum effort and endeavor, keeping the true fighting Spirit of the martial arts. We should always be capable of feeling deeply, and fighting against Injustice committed against anyone, anytime, in any part of the world.
Kenny’s commitment to, and even reliance on the Martial Arts was most evident in exaltation of his alter of weaponry, particularly swords. He wrote extensively on the Martial Arts, the techniques and the philosophy which also guided his everyday life as he prolifically wrote,
Martial arts have been utilized as one of many avenues of “The Way”, to acquainting oneself with the Tao at least by virtue of a literal parallel and at best the harbinger of enlightenment. The value of an awakening is that in one’s life like these principals can be generalized and, hopefully, impact an intriguing curiosity into one’s inner being that causes it to seek complete expression and emerge from whence we heap consciousness upon it. It’s a tingling and pervasive effort. As always, an art is one of many paths to a higher realization.A new emotion is conceived. It is consuming but it is not rage, it is like the force of a storm, but it is not violent, it is sensitive but not compassionate. It carries itself and maintains a tone throughout the fight. There may be something about the fact that it is a martial encounter that lends a certain exigency to matters forcing responses to be entirely spontaneous and even appropriate. In a correctly balanced mind, the attack will produce the defense of its own accord. Thought merely introduces variables that interfere.
As long as there is breath
There is will
The sword
It must be wielded
with all the love
of the heart
with vigor
of the body
with single-minded
aspiration
of the soul
In August 1980, on the front lawn of one of the steepest streets in America, Kenny and Dineo, who he met in college, pledged their love and commitment to each other becoming husband and wife. Initially in Boston and then relocating to Dallas, Kenny worked professionally for several decades as a Systems Engineer and IT Architect working across the United States and internationally.
Despite a hectic travel schedule, Kenny made time to enjoy his family. Some of the more memorable activities included four-wheel driving on the beaches of Cape Cod, attending Native American powwows and camping in tents. He also coached his son’s football team and with his nephew Eric he coached basketball. He taught martial arts to his sons, and children of nieces, nephews and friends.
No family gathering was complete without Kenny delightedly giving into the clamoring of the kids for Uncle Kenny to tell them a scary story. After the room was darkened, a circle of anxious faces awaited their fate. Kenny would close the door as the adults anticipated the entranced howls and screams. He looked forward to his all too brief retirement in which Kenny was contently immersed in the artist’s life, creating his life’s work.
As the griot is an African tribal Story Teller whose role is to preserve genealogies and traditions, Kenny avidly embraced his destiny to be the cultural guardian of his family’s oral traditions with his grandmother as his first source of inspiration. Kenny righteously inherited this sense of preservation from his father who chronicled the lives and activities of people through his professional photography and his mother who curated a rare collection of African-American quilts.
Following in the footsteps of his educator parents, Kenny sought to share his family’s treasures with the public. This was accomplished in 2014 when the collection “Haunting and Spiritual Stories”, co-authored with his sister Hedy, was published. Kenny described his achievement,
This book is a collection of short stories. They stand by themselves, individually, and seek to enable a scintillating excursion beyond the common four walls of life. I wish to seduce the imagination with a subtle convergence of Storytelling quietly seeping into questions of considerable moment… Haunting is a species of Horror. Haunting is when one is compelled to ponder a phenomenon at length, searching for solid, familiar ground after encountering a vulnerability in existence itself. Spiritual is the entirety of one’s reaction to life no matter what the conclusion.
And as a tribute to his Grandmother and his family traditions, the first story begins,
Once upon a time… When I was a little boy, I enjoyed my Grandmother’s stories more than anything. Each time, by stories end, I was seized by fear. Soon thereafter, I would eagerly ask for another one. There is no rational explanation for this seeming self – torture, but I could not resist; and I was not alone. My siblings and I would often scramble, like a litter of puppies, to gather around Grandma’s chair when story-time commenced. It was always a bit of a wrestling match to find a seat both comfortable and safe as possible. Then, the story would begin….
