Last week I wrote a post about Jim Simpson, the former WWII POW who knitted a rug with unraveled sweaters and pot handles while being held by the Germans.
Here’s the story of another tough knitter. A knitting badass, if you will.
His name is Nicholas Iwamoto. He knits. And sells the things he knits. He includes homemade beef jerky with the purchase of his knitted items. But that’s not why he’s awesome, although it’s definitely reason enough. (Homemade beef jerky! How cool! And I’m vegetarian!)
Earlier this year, Nicholas, just after he passed the physical and academic tests necessary for the Hawaii Army National Guard, decided to go climb Koko Crater in his native Hawaii. All that was left to join the Guard was to sign up and this afternoon, he went hiking “figuring if he could survive the trek to the top without his heart giving out, he was fit to serve his country.” While on said crater, someone attacked him, stabbing him 18 times, leaving him for dead… and in trying to escape he fell off said crater, falling 30 feet then rolling a further 70. And he survived. (Seriously, read that again, holy crap.)*
As a result of his attack, he will never drive again, he will never get to defend his country overseas, he still wears a neckbrace after wearing a halo for six weeks and spinal surgery. And in an article in the local paper, he’s thankful, “as Thanksgiving nears, 23-year-old Iwamoto wanted to say thanks to a list of people that is virtually endless — beginning with “the two Good Samaritans” who discovered him in the ravine and “who are the reason I’m still alive.” The article goes on to add, “finally, he said he wanted to express his deep appreciation to the men and women in uniform who risk their lives daily to protect American freedoms, and who, in many cases, have suffered far more than he has.”
But, wait, what about the knitting? Well, here’s more from The Honolulu Advertiser article:
“I knit. I knit beanies, and scarves,” he said. “I knit all day and give them to people. But I’m starting to sell them. I also make beef jerky.”
For now he gives his homemade jerky to anyone who purchases a knitted beanie, scarf or hot pad. But he is considering selling jerky as well.”
You can read the full article here.
Also posted in the same article was a way to contact Nicholas directly and contribute to his ongoing medical expenses:
Those who would like to help defray Nicholas Iwamoto’s medical expenses can send a check to Friends of Nicholas Iwamoto, P.O. Box 241076, Honolulu, HI 96824 or make a contribution to the fund at any Bank of Hawaii.
Iwamoto can also be reached at iwamoton@hawaii.edu
*Y’know, I’m reading this, thinking about how important the tactile is in working through trauma (all kinds), and how I’ve never fully admitted it anywhere except the book, but it was the tactile aspect of knitting that led me to start feeling again after being sexually assaulted by a friend at 19. After some other previous events, that night was the straw that broke the camel’s back in regards to trust and safely feeling anything, good, at least. Then I feared that writing about it would give him power (again) if he discovered that it really did hurt me. That thought echoes in my head as I type.
It’s funny how easily it is to remove yourself from feeling and just plod through daily life, fooling yourself and others into thinking everything is just fine. I shoved having to feel away and ran away from feeling anything for years, then found knitting and through it, slowly began to allow myself to feel again. Really feel. I’m still crap at relationships due to all that mess, and still working on that part of my life, but wish I had had Nicholas’ courage to deal with his assault head on instead of letting it sit, fester, then rot.
Somehow, tonight, reading Nicholas’ story, about him surviving this horrific event, then discovering knitting reminded me that the tactile aspect, it’s what can really heal. Not words, not alcohol, not drugs, not relationships, not running away, but sitting down and staying with your knitting. Sitting still, facing negative events/feelings, giving yourself a safe space to feel again, allowing yourself to let go and let it help you break through to the other side. It’s a quiet process, but an undeniably powerful one nonetheless.
Nicholas, thank you, for being so strong and creative and, well, an awesomely tough knitter.
