By Lee Cataluna
Advertiser Columnist

Kerwin Chong still doesn't know what happened to his son. He may never know.

"Two weeks before this happened, we went fishing out in Hawai'i Kai," Chong says. "I remember watching my wife and my children in the sun and thinking that I'm so grateful for what I got. Then right after that, the bottom fell out."

One day last December, his bright, athletic, active little boy just turned off "like a light switch," Chong says. "One day, he just left us."

Kerwin Chong, right, credits his son Braxton's ongoing recovery from a mysterious illness largely to the Hodokan Judo Club. Eugene Tanner • The Honolulu Advertiser

And then, all of a sudden, he couldn't do any of those things.

"My son went into full withdrawal and displayed the most violent manifestations of fear you can imagine," Chong says. "His palms would sweat, his lips would quiver, his eyes would dilate, his face would go flush, he would just stare right through you, his speech degraded to a violent stuttering, he developed nervous tics, he would grab onto anything in terror."

To get Braxton to school, counselors had to physically drag him into a "safe room" with padded mats on the floor.

"My job was to take him into the room, and then they would peel him off me," Chong says. Many times, Braxton spent the entire day screaming and crying.

Kerwin Chong and his wife, Lois, searched for answers. Medical doctors and psychologists did test after test. Braxton has juvenile diabetes, but that was deemed to have no link to his violent anxiety. The Chongs were told that Braxton probably suffered some sort of traumatic emotional experience, but he's too little to express what might have happened, so it may always be a mystery.

The bigger question, the question that absolutely had to be answered, was how to bring Braxton back.

"Just like fishing, you try something, and it doesn't work, you don't do it again," Chong says. "I was desperate. I would have done anything."

The one thing that held hope for the Chong family was judo. It was Braxton's favorite sport.

He had begun training last fall at the Hodokan Judo Club in Manoa. The dojo is at the old Japanese Language school on East Manoa Road, in a small wooden school room so simple and earnest it makes you ache with nostalgia. It is a very old-fashioned dojo, where the instructors — and there are more than 12 of them — all volunteer their time to teach, and parents pay just $10 a month for four hour-and-a-half lessons a week.

Outside of the dojo, the afternoon sunlight paints the wooden porch a dappled gold. It was there, on the long benches, amid the slippers and gym bags, that Braxton started his journey back.

At first, the most Braxton could handle was sitting on the bench outside of the dojo. His father would sit with him. The senseis would sit with him. This went on for months.

"There was like this invisible wall that he couldn't get through to go inside," Chong said.

He could sit, but sometimes, that meant holding on to the bench for dear life.

Sensei George Tsubota, head instructor of Hodokan Judo Club, was the first to point out hopeful signs.

"He would say, 'His foot turned that way. He's getting receptive,' " Chong says. "I couldn't see it, but Sensei is so good at reading body language. I guess that's what judo is all about — responding to someone's body language."

Sensei Tsubota would lean way over, all the way to meet Braxton's eyes, and speak softly to him.

"One thing I learned the hard way is that every person is different," Tsubota says. "What works with one will not always work with another."

Tsubota, who has five sons, said his boys taught him this. "Some people go fast, some people go slow. You have to approach them their way."

One day, Tsubota offered Braxton his hand and asked the little boy to enter the dojo. He did.

"He dropped his slipper, then he put it back on. I look for that kind of sign," Tsubota said. "His hands, his feet — he was telling me he wanted to come in. I don't know what was holding him back, but I knew he wanted to go inside."

That was just the first step. There were many other small but hard-earned triumphs along the way.

Sensei Tsubota worked one-on-one with Braxton. He asked other instructors and more advanced students to pair up with Braxton sometimes, "so he doesn't get used to only one person," he explains.

Over time, Braxton's anxiety gradually faded. His successes in judo translated to his other activities as well.

"He's bright. He's smart. He catches on fast and he holds on to what he learns. He remembers," Tsubota says.

"He is not totally clear of his anxiety, but his improvement is encouraging," Chong says. "My son is slowly returning to us."

Last month, Sensei Tsubota felt Braxton was ready for his first judo tournament. The child who at one point couldn't make it through the door to practice ended up winning first place in the 53-pounds-and-under division.

"At the end of Braxton's championship match, between his gasps of breath, Braxton looked up to me, with his mat-burned face, and actually asked me, 'Daddy, did I honor the dojo?' " Tsubota says. "I had to choke back some tears at the time, but I answered, 'Yes, Braxton. You did.' "

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.