Dr. Spurlock’s 50 Years of Care Come to a Close
After 50 years as a chiropractor—and 92 years of life—Dr. Bill Spurlock finally closed his Elk City practice for good on July 1. But if you ask him, retirement was never in the plans.
“God didn’t tell anybody to retire. The Bible says you work six days a week and rest and worship. Didn’t say anything about retiring,” Dr. Spurlock said, smiling as he looked around his office, now quiet but still bursting with stories and stacks of old hats.
Born “just Bill—not William—in Shenandoah, Iowa,” Spurlock’s path wasn’t a straight one. He taught school, served as a chaplain’s assistant in the Army, and even ran a carpet business before a chance encounter with a young, happy chiropractor lit a spark in him. “If somebody can be that happy doing his job and helping people, that’s what I want,” Spurlock recalled. At age 39, with encouragement from his wife and support from his three daughters, he headed to Palmer College and started down a new road.
Spurlock opened his Elk City practice in 1980, choosing the town for its people and feel. “I liked the people. I’ve never been sorry a minute that I came here.” Over four decades, he became part of the fabric of the community— treating parents, their children, and eventually their grandchildren. His hands-on approach extended beyond humans; Spurlock was known to adjust calves in the backs of pickups and even the occasional dog or family pet whose owners just knew “something wasn’t quite right.”
Chiropractic care became a family tradition. “My oldest daughter followed in my footsteps at Palmer [College], practiced for 25 years,” Spurlock said, pride unmistakable in his voice.
The walls of his office are lined with more than 2,000 hats—oilfield, farm, company, and keepsakes from decades of Elk City patients. “Most of these hats came from patients over the years. There’s a lot up here on the walls that aren’t around anymore,” he said. “History in a very interesting way.” During our conversation, we joked about calling the phone numbers on some of those hats from the boom years, just to see who might answer in this town that’s expanded and contracted with the oil business.
What truly set Dr. Spurlock’s practice apart was his approach to care and community. “I wanted to have an office my mother could go to and be happy with. I didn’t go into it for all the money schemes. I just wanted to be a good chiropractor,” he said. He built much of the reception furniture himself, always believing in pitching in wherever something needed doing.
Spurlock’s love for people is matched only by his passion for flight. A licensed pilot since 1959, he has spent years hopping from one small airport to another, collecting stories and new views of Oklahoma. “I’ve been flying since 1959,” he said. “About ready to tie that up, too.” He explained the tradition of “$100 hamburgers”— what pilots call flying to another small airport just for lunch, a perfect excuse to keep flying, stay sharp, and see the ever-changing Oklahoma landscape from above.
He recalls a lifetime of early morning flights, weekends at the airfield, and helping fellow pilots out of jams or just into a fresh cup of coffee in Altus. “To me, to go out and fly for an hour and a half, looking around at how the crops are, what’s going on—that’s something else. I’ve never seen this much rain in June. It’s beautiful. Green is unrealistically green here.” In the hangar and the exam room alike, Dr. Spurlock’s curiosity and willingness to try something new set him apart.
So what’s next for Dr. Spurlock? “I don’t know what’s next,” he laughed. “I guess I’ll find out when I get up. I’m not going to sit up and drink beer and watch TV. I’ve got things I’d like to do, I think, and I’ll just take my time and do what I want.”
As Elk City says goodbye to a trusted friend, craftsman, neighbor, and healthcare provider, it’s not just the end of an era. It’s a reminder of what makes small towns special—a neighbor who sticks around, a doctor whose story is interwoven with the community, and a legacy that will keep on growing, just like the hats on the wall and the stories that come with them.
