I have been spending the weekend at the Grove Park Inn, where B.J. Palmer, the developer of our great chiropractic profession would stay and work on philosophy. His picture is hanging up in the hall next to Presidents, where they honor him as “the father of chiropractic,” (though erroneous, I was still very excited to see him up on the wall).
It is easy to see why he chose this place, it drips of inspiration with an amazing view of the Smoky Mountains. You can really shut out the world here and be still, an art that is all but lost in my generation. Being here in his temporal footsteps is not only motivating, but challenging. Can I contribute a fraction of what he did? Will I leave chiropractic as a better than when I entered it? My heart declares a resounding yes, and I know it can be done as long as I stay true to the purpose and vision for the second century of chiropractic.