One of the great things about being an instructor in an
international hub like Silicon Valley is the number of wonderful students you
get to train, students from all parts of the world. But it can also have a
downside. Near the end of the 70s, I had a great student from Iran. He was an
engineering major at a local college but lived in the Sunnyvale Holiday Inn.
Each month, he would pay me with a $100 bill. I learned his education and board
was being paid for by the Iranian government. I can’t remember a student who
worked harder than he did. He gave me a great respect for the Iranian people. He
told us his name was George Wilson. I didn’t know much about Iran but knew
Wilson wasn’t a normal name for someone from that part of the world. I
questioned him about it and he told me I wouldn’t be able to pronounce his real
name so he wanted to make it easy for everyone. I told him that he was my
student and the least I could do was call him by his name, learning how to
pronounce it if necessary. He told me his name was Reza Mohammad Razmkhah (sp?),
which I made everyone call him. He came in one day as he was about to test for
brown belt. He was clearly upset and told me it would be his last class. The
Shah had been overthrown and he had been recalled to Iran. He left and I never
learned if he lived or died. But I think often of him.