September 2004
Always the warrior
by Dr. Guy F. Riekeman, President, Life University
On July 6, Dr. Joseph
Flesia, my good friend and mentor, succumbed to long‑standing health issues.
His passing is mourned by all of us at Life
University and countless others in
our profession.
Dr. Joe's name was
frequently used in the same breath as the word "warrior" and he was truly a
chiropractic warrior. He, like many warriors, was nothing short of genius.
He was always prepared and his ability to motivate a crowd was a lesson for
any aspiring speaker.
Yet, Dr. Joe was also
an academic whose intellect never rested. He taught classes ranging from
in‑depth discussions on chiropractic philosophy to physical diagnosis. His
impact in the profession was profound. He gave us the lecture chart health
care class and the first health care videotapes before most Americans owned
a VCR. He worked with stars like Peter Graves, Lorne Greene and Tony
Franciosa, but also gave a new chiropractic student the same intensity and
attention.
Perhaps Dr. Joe's
greatest professional contribution was the way he articulated the Five
Components of the Vertebral Subluxation Complex, which is taught in many
colleges today. Most specifically was his intellectual contribution of the
Four Phases of Subluxation Degeneration, which is now a part of the
Chiropractic Lexicon.
Like a true warrior,
Dr. Joe's personal life was indistinguishable from his public life. He
brought the same intensity to his relationships, parenting and bodybuilding
as he did to his lecturing, studying and never‑ending search for knowledge.
Joseph and I spent 10
years of our lives together, daily; travelling across the globe, weekly; and
lecturing together, non‑stop. The first time I had dinner with him
(pre‑ATMs), he was 17 cents short. That night he drove 25 miles to return
the 17 cents.
In the '70s, he saw
300+ patients per day in his practice in Rhode Island that evolved from a
medical‑model practice to a wellness‑adjustment practice. He started an
academic fraternity at Palmer in the late 1950s and Renaissance in the late
1970s.
I trusted him with my
life and my dreams. He would never allow himself to be in anyone's debt, but
paradoxically, thousands of chiropractors and millions of people will
forever be indebted to him.
I cried at his passing.
I miss my friend. The world was too simple and mediocre for him. He never
really understood its workings and, when he did, couldn't fathom its
insanity.
He warned us about the
Predicament of the Species before most knew we had a dilemma. He spoke of
the Magical Child as a colorful way of reminding us what the potential of a
human might be, long before anyone had declared the human potential
movement. He never deviated from the Cause. But then, isn't that the
definition of a warrior ‑‑ which he was even with his last breath? I will
see you soon my dear friend.