A Jamaican Experience: I Sometimes Feel Like Forrest Gump

By: Baron Stewart

Tokyo, February 10, 1990

I was headed to Jakarta, Indonesia, to teach for IBM for a week. At the time, I lived in Los Angeles, and whenever you traveled that far for IBM, you were allowed an all-expenses-paid stopover anywhere you wanted. I picked Tokyo.

I like to make my business trips enjoyable. I traveled almost weekly for IBM, lecturing at seminars across North America. To keep myself entertained, I’d play little games. On this trip, I decided to see if I could make it the whole way using only my American Express card—no cash, just the card. In 1990, that was a real experiment. There weren’t many ATMs for international travelers, and credit cards weren’t accepted everywhere. But I wanted to see if I could pull it off.

At LAX, I asked the Delta agent if I could get cash from them if I needed it. They told me, with absolute certainty, “Yes.” So I boarded my flight feeling covered.

When I landed in Tokyo, I needed a taxi to my hotel, but none of the drivers would accept my AmEx card. I walked to the Delta desk to get the promised cash, and they turned me down flat. I was stuck at the airport, showing my card to taxi drivers and getting polite but firm refusals until one kind driver agreed to take me to my hotel, the New Otani near Roppongi, and wait while I got money.

I walked into the New Otani and explained my situation to the front desk. Without hesitation, they handed me enough money to pay the driver, and even gave me extra cash to spend to enjoy Roppongi that night. The service was exceptional. I dropped my bags, thanked the front desk, and the same driver took me straight into Roppongi.

Roppongi was unlike anything I expected. I had some incredible Japanese food and noticed an astonishing number of white Mercedes-Benzes parked around the area. There were one-door private clubs everywhere, popular with young Japanese people. The energy was wild. It was a cultural surprise in the best way.

But the real Forrest Gump feeling hit the next morning when I went to breakfast.

The hotel lobby was full of Black men. Not just any men—Black Americans. A lot of them. It was so unexpected that I stopped and asked myself what was happening. Then I recognized a face. It was Evander Holyfield. And nearby? Sugar Ray Leonard.

Now I had to know.

Then I spotted a familiar boxing announcer I knew from American TV. There was going to be a fight—right there in Tokyo. I asked around and learned it was the Mike Tyson vs. Buster Douglas heavyweight title bout. The fight was scheduled for that very morning so that it could be broadcast on American television the night before—Tokyo was 13 hours ahead of New York.

I ran back to my room and turned on the TV just in time to watch one of the greatest upsets in sports history: undefeated and seemingly untouchable Mike Tyson lost his first fight to a 42-to-1 underdog. Buster Douglas knocked him out.

Just like that, I was a witness to history—from my hotel room.

After the fight, I headed to the airport for my next flight to Singapore. Walking through the terminal, I saw Sugar Ray Leonard running to catch his plane back to the States.

I didn’t plan to be there when the champ fell—but I was. That’s kind of how my life goes.

People sometimes ask me why I traveled so much back then—wasn’t it exhausting? It could be. But I was on a mission. I traveled to teach, lead, and connect, and I found ways to keep the rhythm of it alive. Turning business trips into games, challenges, or stories helped me stay engaged in a life that could otherwise feel repetitive.

When people hear I was there for Tyson’s fall, they often ask: Were you a big boxing fan? Not really. But Tyson was a symbol of dominance. Seeing him lose was like watching certainty crack in real time. From a hotel room in Tokyo, I saw the impossible happen.

Do you think it was fate that you were there? I’ve learned not to overthink it. Life has a funny way of placing you where you need to be if you stay open. I wasn’t trying to witness history—I didn’t want a boring stopover. But somehow, I ended up in the middle of something unforgettable.

I didn’t plan to be there when the champ fell—but I was. And sometimes, just being there is the story.

Lessons from a Layover in Tokyo

After a story like that, readers often ask me, “So what’s the lesson?” The truth is, I didn’t go to Tokyo seeking a life lesson—I went because IBM paid for a stopover. But sometimes, life teaches you things you didn’t even know you were ready to learn.

Here’s what I took away—and what I hope you will too:

1. Be Open to the Unexpected

The most unforgettable moments in life often begin with something mundane. I didn’t plan to witness history. I was trying to get from point A to point B. But I saw something historic because I stayed open, curious, and willing to roll with the moment.

→ Stay open. Let life surprise you.

2. Curiosity is Fuel

My American Express experiment wasn’t about money—it was about curiosity. It was a way to stay mentally awake in a life that could easily fall into routine. That small challenge turned a typical work trip into a story worth telling.

→ Ask yourself: How can I bring curiosity to my everyday life?

3. Kindness Is a Universal Language

I couldn’t speak Japanese. The driver didn’t know me. But he helped me. The hotel didn’t owe me anything. But they gave me what I needed and more. In a foreign land, kindness translated better than any app could.

→ Never underestimate the power of a small act of kindness.

4. History Doesn’t Knock First

The Mike Tyson fight wasn’t on my calendar. But I showed up for breakfast, and history walked into the lobby with me. That moment reminded me that life is happening all around us. You don’t always need a front-row seat—sometimes, watching from the sidelines is more than enough.

→ Be present. The extraordinary often shows up in ordinary moments.

5. Flexibility Beats Perfection

My plan—to use only an AmEx card—fell apart in the first hour. But that twist led to connection, learning, and a better story. When plans fail, grace and resourcefulness take over.

→ Let go of perfect plans. Embrace the detour.

6. Show Up

I wasn’t trying to do anything epic. I was just there. But showing up with presence, awareness, and openness made all the difference.

→ Whatever you're doing, show up for it. You never know who—or what—is about to walk through the door.