The style of Kung Fu known as Eagle Claw is spectacular to watch. Born of a combination of Chin Na's joint locks and grappling techniques and Northern Shaolin's dance-like kicks, Eagle Claw requires the grip strength of an Iron Palm practicioner and the grace of a Peking acrobat.

To watch an Eagle Claw adept in action is to see someone equally at home with long-range combat and in-fighting, able to dart in with swift attacks in a war of attrition that inevitably grinds the opponent down. Then the Eagle Claw stylist is free to move in, controlling and finally finishing his opponent with the crushing grip that gives the style its name.

The sight is even more spectacular when the artist is Master Gini Lau, a slight, soft-spoken, lovely woman who carries the history of the Eagle Claw system in her blood and its future on her shoulders.

And, like so many other styles, the history is long and distinguished, the future uncertain.

Eagle Claw was originally developed during the Southern Sung Dynasty by General Yueh Fei, famous for his victories against the Jurchen. Intending his style to be used by disarmed soldiers, the general adopted many techniques from Chin Na and concentrated exclusively on hand-to-hand combat. During the Ming Dynasty, the Shaolin monk Li Ch'uan combined Eagle Claw with Northern Shaolin, adding long-range techniques and weapons work, and in the process creating Eagle Claw as it is known today.

The Lau family's association with Eagle Claw began during the Qing dynasty with Lau Shi Chien, a Confucian scholar who established himself as a martial artist in Beijing. From Lau Shi Chien the style was passed down through several generations--father to son, uncle to nephew--until it reached Gini's father, Lau Fat Mang.

By all accounts a brilliant martial artist, Lau Fat Mang was determined that Eagle Claw remain in and of the Lau family. He spent considerable energy training not only his two sons but--in a break with both Chinese tradition and the traditions of his family--his three daughters, Lily, Ruth, and Gini.

According to Gini, her father went so far as to vary their training, finally telling them as he was dying, "I trained you differently...learn from each other."

"Every single breath went to us," says Gini.

Before Lau Fat Mang died, he told his children that he had no estate, no money or property to bequeath. Only Eagle Claw, and whoever promised to continue the style and carry it forward to the next generation, could claim his legacy. Says Gini, "I thought to myself, 'I'll take that legacy.'"

Since her father's death, Gini Lau has done her best to be worthy of the legacy of Eagle Claw.

She is not alone; her sister Lily, who, as eldest in the family is the acknowledged Grand Master of the Eagle Claw system, has a school in Hong Kong and teaches unofficially in San Francisco. Gini would like her to be able to open a school in San Francisco as well, "so that we can teach the right thing"--the true Eagle Claw style--"together."

Her younger brother, now a movie producer in Taiwan, no longer teaches but does practice "when he has the time." Her father had other students, they have students. Gini does not deny that the true Eagle Claw style can be found.

But so can a lot of "bogus Eagle Claw," as Gini puts it. In this, the information age, there are people who seem unaware that some types of information can only be learned the old, hard way. Instead, they watch a video, take a seminar, and call themselves Eagle Claw.

Gini is diplomatic--she will not point fingers or name names. Instead, she has founded the Lau Fat Mang World Eagle Claw Foundation, with headquarters in her studio in Vallejo, California. There she works tirelessly to preserve the style her father gave her, giving, in her turn, to anyone who is willing to listen, and practice, and try to understand.

In addition, Gini is not content to guarantee that Eagle Claw survive for this generation. Gini intends to make sure it continues on to the generations after her. To help her, she has Curtis and Yini.

Curtis Lau is eleven. He has a new Viper Diamondback street bike and likes to play video games. He's an honor student, bright, polite, quick to help his mom with the occasional English idiom or spelling of a classmate's name. In every way, a typical kid, except that Curtis likes math. And his favorite weapon is the sword.

Curtis has been competing in martial arts tournaments since he was seven. When prodded, Curtis will shyly point out trophies he's won that are bigger than he is.

Yini is almost three. She has long hair and a brilliant smile. Already she's striking poses, her big brother's medals draped around her neck.

Gini makes no bones about the fact that, as it was her destiny to learn Eagle Claw, so it is her children's. Curtis can be whatever he wants to be, and is leaning toward being a doctor--as long as he is a sifu as well.

This is no surprise to Curtis. When asked what he really wants to do, he says, "I want to be a kung fu instructor and a doctor--at the same time."

Gini's husband, William Lam, understands this. He teaches Choy Le Fut and Yang style T'ai Chi at the school, but he knows his children will learn Eagle Claw. Gini is quick to recognize his support. "I appreciate it...he has done a lot for us," she says.

Gini is very open about the fact that she has dedicated her life, and is willing to dedicate the lives of her children, to the Eagle Claw style.

In this day and age such dedication is almost unheard of. What could have instilled in Gini such drive, such single-minded focus, such determination to see that the work of her ancestors does not perish?

It all began with her father, Lau Fat Mang.

To China he was a famous martial artist, one of the "Five Tigers who came South," says Gini, and moved from Beijing to Hong Kong in 1929 at the invitation of the Ching Wu Martial Arts Academy to become head instructor. He was also a war hero, leader of the Ta Tao Brigade, making daring nighttime raids on enemy encampments during World War II.

Gini Lau was born in Lau Fat Mang's later years. She is the youngest of three daughters, and the fourth of five children. Her memories of her father at this time are few, mostly relayed to her by family friends. "He loved to entertain at banquets," she says. An accomplished acrobat, Lau Fat Mang would do a handstand on one table and jump to the next on his hands. Gini never saw such exploits, but heard of them from her father's contemporaries. She treasures such stories. "Otherwise, I'd never know what my father did."

Her own memories of her father, Lau Fat Mang, are simpler, yet reveal a complex, driven man.

"My father taught me rough," she says. She and her brothers and sisters all began training in Eagle Claw when they reached the age of four. "We couldn't escape from that," says Gini. Days consisted of school, training, and more training.

Her older brother and sisters went off to boarding school, but Gini stayed. And trained. She wore her kung fu belt twenty-four hours a day, under her school clothes, in bed at night, to remind her of her purpose.

Lau Fat Mang also took a most unusual tactic with Gini--he dressed her as a boy. According to Gini, her father recognized in her, even at that young age, the descendent who would take Eagle Claw into the future. "He recognized that I was the one who would carry on. He cut my hair." Gini smiles. "I love long hair...that's why I wear my hair long today."

Lau Fat Mang's health began to fail, and Gini's training became a race against time. Gini, too young to understand, knew only that her life was hard, much harder than that of other children. "I always asked myself why he was harsh with me," she says. Asking him was next to impossible. Though he had gained fluency in several languages during his time with the army, Cantonese was not one of them. Gini, raised in Hong Kong, knew nothing but. Also, it was not a daughter's place to question her father.

Gini speaks of training late into the night, only to be awakened by her father after a scant hour or two of sleep and told to do yet another form, sometimes over and over until her father was either satisfied, or told her to go back to bed. For Gini, this was just one more bewildering request, and one more hardship to be endured.

Finally, she says, she understood. "He wanted me to do a good form," she says. Clear enough after thirty years worth of hindsight, but for a ten-year old girl, it was a revelation. That night, she vowed, would be different.

"I'm wide awake," she says. "I'm not going to sleep. He came in, I jumped right up--I did the form with everything I had." Her father, says Gini, turned around and left without a word. He never again woke her, demanding her to perform.

"He was worried for me," she says, "that I wouldn't do a right form before he passed away."

Gini was twelve when Lau Fat Mang died. She spent five years in the Peking Opera School ("My father taught their sifu's daughter, so he returned the favor") struggling to maintain her Eagle Claw as well as absorb the Peking Opera classes. "I always kept it up," she says. "The old and the new."

Following her Peking Opera training, Gini went to Taiwan to train army troops, carrying on in her father's footsteps. She was still passing as a boy, and did so until she was eighteen.

When Gini's identity as a woman was revealed, her career with the army was over. But she still had Eagle Claw. Through time spent travelling with a Peking Opera troupe, through her decision to emigrate to the United States and her occasional movie work, through her studies at the College of San Mateo in California's Bay Area, Gini had Eagle Claw.

Now, decades later and thousands of miles away from her childhood days in Hong Kong, Gini Lau can finally give to others the Eagle Claw she has carried for so long inside her.

She's proud of her studio. It's a small space, but bright and clean. Mirrors, weapon racks, stretching bars, and pictures cover the walls. Pictures of Gini's father in his army uniform or workout clothes, pictures of Gini from her Peking Opera days, a memorable shot of Curtis in mid-flight as he aims a flying side kick at some imaginary opponent.

The studio has a friendly, relaxed feel to it, one that Gini tries to cultivate. Adults and children work side by side on their techniques. Sometimes Eagle Claw is a family affair--more than one parent has enrolled a child, only to be intrigued enough by the style to join as well.

Gini has no intention of trying to duplicate for her students the intense pressure placed upon her by her father. "I don't want them to go my way," she says. "I have time. Plenty of time to teach. They don't need to learn so fast." At the same time, she demands dedication and hard work. "Same way, different way." Slower road, same destination--Eagle Claw kung fu.

Gini admits, though, that to some degree the pressure remains for Curtis and Yini. Yini has not yet begun regimented practice, but will soon, and even now likes to mimic her parents and brother. Curtis is at the studio every day in the summer, and practices after school during the school year, homework permitting. They travel extensively to tournaments. Is it tough? "Yeah," says Curtis. Does he have fun? "Yeah." But is it worth it? "Yeah." Vehement nod. And "Yeah," he feels special. A special kid, part of a special family.

Gini has worked hard to give Curtis, and all her students, the pride she has always felt in her father, and in her martial art. "I have to respect myself, to let people respect me the same way they respected my father." But not only does she want them to feel proud, but also to know the joy in the martial arts it took her years to find.

Part of that joy is in knowing she is carrying out her father's wishes. Part is in knowing that he is still with her. She feels his presence often, helping her, guiding her, reminding her when she has forgotten a move in a form. The night after she opened the studio, says Gini, "I dreamed I danced with him in here."

"Those times were bitter," Gini says, referring to her childhood. "I always asked myself why I didn't smile like the other children...that time was bitter, but this time is sweet. I look at what I have today, and I have my answer."

The author would like to thank Jayson Entao, historian of the Lau Fat Mang World Eagle Claw Assn., for providing supplementary material.