Veterans of Storm Find Relief in Combat
The New York Times - May 19, 2007
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/19/us/19martial.html?
ei=5088&en=cdead717acda838e&ex=1337227200&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss&pagewanted=all


HARVEY, La., May 16 — For Brett Hughes, the best way to cope with the stresses of life after Hurricane Katrina turned
out to be flipping another guy over onto the floor, choking off his blood supply and threatening to mangle his limbs.

A little yoga helps, too.

Mr. Hughes, by day a detective with the Plaquemines Parish Sheriff's Office, has by night become a local guru of
Brazilian jiu-jitsu, a sport/combat style best known to fans of the Ultimate Fighting Championship (formerly known as
cage fights and banned by law in some places).

This new role started after the storm, which, he said, gave him a taste of what war might feel like. He was on duty then,
and afterward his days were filled dealing with desperate people. And he was adding too many pounds to his 5-foot-8
frame.

"I was so stressed out, I needed some relief," he said.

But the gym where he had studied martial arts for years was destroyed by the hurricane, so in February 2006 he
rented some time at a kiddie gym in a strip mall here in Harvey, across the Mississippi River from New Orleans, and
started training with some friends. He has since built an unlikely club of 20 or so similarly minded men — an
insurance agent, a lawyer, two electricians, a medical technician, a marine, an opera singer and a professional
political activist, among others. For hours at a time they stretch, punch, run, grapple, sweat, kick and — surprisingly
rarely — swear.

The club also embraces their families, who gather for crawfish boils and the men's martial arts competitions. There
are exercise classes for the children, and a women's self-defense class is in the works.

For $75 a month, the men learn shoulder throws and arm locks and escape maneuvers from Mr. Hughes, 36. Injuries
are not unheard of, but the rules require the victor to let go when the loser uses hand taps to cry uncle.

Though the slamming, grunting, writhing goings-on may look violent, Mr. Hughes says his sport is really a sort of
chess. "It takes 100 percent focus," he said, "100 percent concentration."

"And," he added, "it takes away a lot of the woes of the day."


Around here, those woes range from specific traumas like the loss of a home to more general worries about the
future. "There's always a perpetual fear," Mr. Hughes said. "What if it comes again?"

Jacob E. Cox, a 28-year-old electrician, spends his workdays rebuilding flooded houses. "Dealing with people who've
lost everything in their lives, it takes a toll on you," Mr. Cox said, adding that his customers' nerves were so raw they
had to be handled with kid gloves.

The class has helped him deal with the strain, he said, "and you kind of get to live out that Rocky fantasy."

Another member, Kevin Avery, 37, who owns a printing business, laments the changes in his community and mourns
the friends who never returned after the storm. "I kind of got a little disheartened," Mr. Avery said. "New Orleans always
had a flair, and a lot of it was lost."

But in the months since he found Mr. Hughes's group, he continued, "I've built up good friends for some who have
been lost or moved away."

Another benefit Mr. Avery cites is his loss of 30 pounds through more exercise and more healthful eating habits, no
easy feat here in the land of fried shrimp and sausage. The men have lunch together at least once a week and
encourage one another to lose the poundage Mr. Hughes calls "the Katrina 10."

The last time they went to a barbecue joint, "I had a chicken Caesar and water with lemon," Mr. Avery confided, adding,
"Now you know all my secrets."

In fact, there is a lot of Oprah mixed in with the Gladiator, and not just from the yoga. Mr. Hughes talks a lot about self-
confidence and self-esteem, and says, "You have to buy 'me' time."

And many of the members are total softies when it comes to their children. Asked what he did when he was not
engaged in man-to-man combat, 25-year-old Sean Hopkins replied, "I'm an electrician and a daddy." (He has a 2-year-
old girl.)

Ashley E. Olsen, whose brother is a regular and who has signed up her 7-year-old son for the children's classes,
sees a strange combination. "They all are nice, successful guys," she said, "who apparently like to fight and like to
play with children."

The children's class is taught by Mr. Hughes and Carlos A. Mena, 35, a former wrestler. Mr. Mena, who runs and plays
golf as well, enjoys the physical benefits of the workout he gets with Mr. Hughes, but, like other members, he finds it
also a distraction from the day-to-day difficulties of living here.

Because of his family's air-conditioning business, he said, he ends up spending a lot of time in ruined
neighborhoods. Some of his customers have sold their houses and moved away. His brother fled halfway across the
country, to Colorado.

But of his time fighting with his friends, Mr. Mena said, "This makes you forget about all that."

History of the Club
POWER Extreme Fitness  
developed through the
leadership of founder Brett
Hughes who began the
program as Westbank BJJ. It
has now developed into a
multi-disciplinary program for
all ages.  The New York Times
wrote about the unique nature
of our club.