Chapter 2 / Page 1

Roselle, Illinois
Saturday, November 15, 1997
10:00 A.M. CST


Jim Harper turned right into the strip mall at Plum Grove and Nerge. It had a Walgreen’s on one end of the mall and a video rental store on the other. It was like a hundred other strip malls popping up in the cornfields of the northern and western Chicago suburbs. In the few years he had lived here, the sprawling growth of Dupage and Kane counties continued outwards. What had once been small farming communities now hosted over 250,000 people in a five-mile radius from where he was standing.

It was starting to get cold. Winter’s icy fingers were beginning to gather their grip. Already the sky had changed to battleship gray and a cold breeze rode over the prairie. The occasional snowflake flitted through the air. He could feel the hardness of the coming winter. The places on his body pockmarked with scars, the joints once twisted out of shape, and the broken bones, long since healed, reminded him of his mortality.

Only today, as most Saturdays, was not a day for combat, remembrance, or duty. The roar and smoke of battle were from days gone by. The blood and sweat endured during peace and war dim memories. Saturdays were those moments when Harper reaped a small reward. A time away from his day job when he could pass on a sense of honor to those who would listen. Saturdays were spent teaching kids and adults Tae Kwon Do.

On Saturdays, James Harper instructed lower belts in sparring, kicking, and punching basics. A fourth degree black belt, he was considered a master instructor. After so many years, he still felt the magic of training someone in the martial arts—to take an average person and transform them into a trained fighter. Training someone to fight was only half of the journey. The other half involved developing a sense of duty and honor. Honor not based on eastern mysticism, rather, he sought to instill a sense of personal integrity. His honor was rooted in the belief that life is precious and God-given. Life is not a trivial commodity to be traded lightly. He certainly knew the cost of life. Warriors generally crave peace and shun war.