Hattori Hanzo comes to
Avon, Indiana
Having lived on the west side of Indianapolis in the
fast-growing town of Avon for the last twenty years, it's no surprise when I see
another mega-sized warehouse going up in what was previously a cornfield. Indianapolis
being situated at the center of the country and aligned with I-70 east-west
from Baltimore to Utah, I-65 north-south from the Gulf of Mexico to Lake
Michigan, I-74 and other interstates, it’s an ideal location to build
distribution warehouses for manufacturers and cargo haulers. Plus, there are
lots of cornfields to plow under. So, when I saw yet another row of warehouses
going up a couple of miles from my house near the entrance to I-74, I thought, well,
there goes another cornfield. Little did I know that one of Japan’s most
famous samurai ninjas from the 16th Century was about to show up in
Hendricks County and may very well be hanging out at the Starbucks south of
exit #68. Lest you think there is a plastic representation of the feudal-era
warrior seated in front of Star B’s ala Ronald McDonald, let me set your
mind at ease.
To connect the interstates of I-65 heading northwest, I-74
heading to Davenport and Rock Island, and I-70 taking you westward ho, the north-south
road of Ronald Reagan Parkway was constructed a few years ago. Unfortunately,
the north-bound section currently terminates in a cornfield about ten miles
short of I-65, but I’m not one to quibble about unfinished road construction
when sword-wielding samurai and American presidents are on the docket. As mentioned,
warehouses are springing up on either side of Ronald R., like mushrooms after a
week of rain. And it was at the southside exit #68 behind the newly opened
McDonalds and Starbucks, or Staba, as the Japanese call it, that I saw
Hanzo and it appears that he is now in the warehouse business.
What I saw was “Hanzo” on the side of an iceberg-sized
warehouse. Okay, Hanzo, hmm, I guess that makes sense. Han can mean
shipping, or transport in Japanese and so, or zo can mean to send, so
transport company seemed logical. There are several Japanese logistics
firms in the area, and this looked like another one serving the automotive and warehousing
industries. Nevertheless, I’ve learned from experience that my preconceived
notions about Japan are often wrong despite having lived there at various times
over the past five decades. Time to pull out my trusty Farmer’s Almanac and
find out what this Hanzo business is all about and why he's hanging with
Hoosiers.
As usual, my guess was way off. It turns out that the name Hanzo
has nothing to do with transport or delivery. It’s
an American shipping and warehouse firm named after the 16th Century
ninja warrior, Hattori Hanzo. Well, duh, I should have guessed that. According
to their website, Hattori Hanzo is their namesake due to his
ability to slice through problems and tackle any shipping and warehousing
challenges. I get it. Perfect analogy for freight handling. Really? Time to get
back to the Almanac for further investigation on just who this Hanzo fellow
was.
I was familiar with the name Hattori Hanzo as a figure from
Japanese history and the leader of the Iga ninja. I think most Japanese would
be familiar with the name as well, although probably wouldn’t know much beyond
his characterization in film and video games. The Hanzo
Company website describes Hanzo as a samurai who could kill with a single
stroke, protect of the emperor, and unify of the country. While I would
certainly give kudos to these folks for coming up with an original moniker, the
bio on Mr. Hanzo is not quite how things went down in the waning days of the 16th
Century. Or, as we used to say in the old neighborhood, that’s not quite
your cat.
Hanzo lived during what is known as the Warring States
Period (1467-1568). As you might imagine, it was a period of power struggles between
clans and fiefdoms for control and domination of the country. During that
period and for most of Japanese history for that matter, the emperor held
little power and it was not until the collapse of the feudal system in 1868 and
the beginning of the modern era known as the Meiji Restoration that the emperor
held any far-reaching authority. So as far as I can tell, Hanzo wasn’t
protecting any emperors, or winning battles with his sword. As for helping to unifying Japan, we will have to
give him a bit more credit.
As a samurai in the service of a regional warlord known as
Tokugawa Ieyasu, Hanzo was known for his skill in espionage and assignation. He
was also known as a great strategist who was also skilled with a blade. It was
Tokugawa however, through wars, savvy political maneuvering, a bit of luck, and with the assistance of Hanzo’s and his ninja, who unified
the country. Tokugawa and his descendants went on to hold power for the
next three-hundred and fifty years. Not a bad run if you’re in the military
dictator business. The current tv series Shogun is loosely based on the story
of English navigator William Adams and Tokugawa Ieyasu. Not sure what all this
has to do with third-party logistics, but maybe espionage and clandestine ops
are a big thing in the freight game.
I would also have to give Mr. Hanzo props for his staying
power as figure in pop culture. How many sixteenth-century warlord sidekicks
end up in Quinten Terentino movies running sushi bars in Okinawa, or as a
bad-ass video game character? And now rebrand as a logistics guy in central
Indiana? That’s what I would call a diversified career.
All poorly worded attempts at humor aside, I stopped in at
the new “Staba” in front of Mr. Hanzo’s warehouse to see if they
had my favorite Nitro Cold Brew. They did and I sat down to enjoy my view of a cornfield waiting to become a warehouse. When
at S&B, I try to be polite and not stare at the purple hair, neck tattoos, or
laptop hobos, but it’s hard work. Having been a “hobo” myself, I know the exact
timing required to purchase something before they call the cops. As I sipped my joe,
I glanced to my left and saw a dark figure hunched over what looked like battle
plans depicting troop positions and castle walls. Nah, couldn’t be. I grabbed my nitro
and headed for the door reminding myself that we were, after all, in Avon,
Indiana.