I was a thousand miles from home, in St. Louis, Missouri. As my mom and I entered our hotel’s lobby, a young man in a staff uniform rushed forward to hold the door. His eyes lingered on the stiffness in my legs as I passed through.

“Are you here in St. Louis to see Dr. Park?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Do you know him?”

He shook his head, awestruck. “I have never met him,” he said, “but that man is a legend.”

The supervisor of the hotel cafe, Miss Brenda, knew of Dr. Park too. She had seen hundreds of families come to see him from every corner of the world. He has helped so many, she said.

That week, I had pre-op appointments at the hospital.

“Your doctor’s name?” the secretary at radiology asked as I checked in.

“Dr. TS Park,” I replied.

A woman behind us spoke up. “Hi—excuse me,” she said, hesitant at first. “Did you say Dr. Park? I couldn’t help but overhear. Dr. Park did my son’s brain surgery many years ago. He changed my son’s life.”

On July 7, 2017, he would change mine too.

His talents reached across borders, creeds, and religions. Thousands of families from all around the world would come to regard Dr. Park as the man who performed miracles with his scalpel, with a three-inch scar and four-hour surgery that would set people free from the constant spasms in their legs. When other surgeons said no—you’re too mild, too severe, too young, too old—so often, Dr. Park said yes. Yes, I can help you. Yes, there is hope.

But that isn’t the end of this story. Perhaps you’ve noticed that when someone discovers their purpose on this Earth, it’s as though that energy spreads. I witnessed that in the parents who came to comfort my mom and me when I had my surgery. They would have been strangers, except Dr. Park changed the lives of their children too, and that made us family. Amy, who whispered in my ear as my nurse injected the pre-op sedative—“I will take care of your mom.” Linda, whose seven-year-old daughter Mackenzie slipped her hand into mine as I wheeled back to my hospital room. Abdullah, who offered his arm for me to lean on when I was relearning how to stand and walk.

Dr. Park was fiercely proud of this community he helped create—over 20,000 members have joined the St. Louis Selective Dorsal Rhizotomy (SDR) Facebook group to share their stories and guide each other on their journeys. He was fiercely proud of the surgical technique he pioneered—a technique that is now considered the gold standard by many neurosurgeons throughout the world. And he was fiercely proud of his patients and their families, cherishing their progress and encouraging them every step of the way.

Dr. Park deserved many more years than he got—but what a beautiful legacy he created with the years he was given. He will live on in countless neurosurgeons as they carry on his work in operating rooms throughout the world, as well as in the world-class members of his surgical and rehabilitation teams.

And—of course—he will live on in his SDR families.

Though he is gone from this world in a physical sense, his energy will continue to spread through the thousands and thousands of lives he has changed.

Truly—
that man is a legend.

The author (Kerry) posing with Dr. Park.