Honouring Dr. William John (Jack) Reynolds, Dr. Robert Salter and Dr. Jack Crawford
Why This Page Exists
Growing up with juvenile arthritis meant my childhood was shaped by medical rooms, surgeries, and specialists. But it also meant I was shaped by three extraordinary doctors whose care, skill, and humanity changed the course of my life. This page is my way of honouring them. Not as medical figures, but as people who made my world safer, stronger, and possible.
“This page exists because their work made my life possible.”
Dr. William John (Jack) Reynolds
Rheumatologist, Toronto Western Hospital
The Doctor Who Saw Me From the Very Beginning
Dr. Reynolds entered my life when I was eighteen months old. My mother brought me to Emergency, searching for answers, and he was the one who recognized what was happening. He diagnosed me, referred me to SickKids, and unknowingly became the first steady thread in a lifelong medical story.
Years later, when it was time to leave SickKids and transition into adult care, I tracked him down. I wasn’t sure he would remember me, but of course he did. Not vaguely, not politely. He remembered me. From that moment on, he became my rheumatologist until the day he died.
A Relationship Built on Respect
I don’t have perfect words for the gratitude I feel for his care, but I can describe the way he practiced medicine.
He treated me as a human being, not a case number. He stayed curious, always learning, always adapting as the understanding of JRA evolved into JIA. He listened, explained, and invited me into every decision.
Respect went both ways. I trusted him completely, and he trusted me enough to involve me in his teaching. I volunteered as the active patient for his interns, and he recommended me for the pilot of Searle Pharmaceutical’s Patient Partner program, a groundbreaking initiative where trained arthritic patients demonstrated musculoskeletal exams to medical students and physicians using our own bodies. It was hands-on, real, and honest. He believed patients should be part of medical education long before it became common practice.
The Way He Practiced Medicine
One of my clearest memories is how he handled medications. Whenever I needed something new, he didn’t hand me a flyer and send me home. I would say, “Get out the book,” and he would pull a massive reference book off his shelf. We would go through the options together. We reviewed the benefits, the risks, what we knew, what we didn’t. It was shared decision-making before anyone used that phrase.
That was who he was. Thorough. Thoughtful. Human.
“His belief that we should be partners in our own care stayed with me.”
His Legacy
Dr. Reynolds’ legacy isn’t captured in online awards or public tributes. It lives in the people he cared for. He shaped my life from the moment he diagnosed me at eighteen months old to the last appointment I had with him. His commitment to continuous learning, his respect for his patients, and his belief that we should be partners in our own care left a mark that no plaque or publication could capture.
His obituary described a man devoted to his family, his patients, his music, and his church. This is exactly the man I knew. He practiced at Toronto Western Hospital for more than forty years, taught at the University of Toronto, and trained in both internal medicine and rheumatology, including a fellowship year in England. He earned his medical degree in 1958 and somehow completed a degree in music at the same time. Those details don’t surprise me. They match the doctor who treated me with patience, curiosity, and respect from the very beginning.
He also contributed to early research on fibromyalgia and sleep, publishing work that helped deepen the understanding of chronic pain. Learning about his research now only confirms what I always felt: he was thoughtful, curious, and committed to helping people live better lives. What I knew was the doctor who listened, explained, and treated me with respect.
I attended his memorial because it mattered to me to honour the doctor who helped me grow up, who treated me as a person rather than a case number, and who showed me what thoughtful, human medicine could look like.
Dr. Robert Salter
Orthopaedic Surgeon, The Hospital for Sick Children (SickKids), Toronto
What He Meant to My Life
Dr. Salter was the surgeon who shaped my childhood. Literally and figuratively. His work on my joints gave me mobility, stability, and possibilities I wouldn’t have had any other way. Even as a child, I sensed his confidence and calm. He made operating rooms feel less frightening and outcomes feel hopeful.
A Surgeon Who Understood Children
I was incredibly fortunate to have Dr. Robert Salter as my surgeon at SickKids, and I know I’m not alone in that feeling. He had a way of speaking to children that made us feel capable, not fragile. He didn’t talk over us or around us. No, he talked to us.
One of my favourite memories of him appears in my post Rules? I Thought They Were Suggestions. He made me stand in front of him and swear, out loud, that I would slow down. He delivered it with that signature mix of seriousness and warmth that only he could pull off. Even as a child, I understood that he cared enough to hold me accountable.
When My Arthritis Found a New Home
Four years after the fusion of my left knee, my right knee suddenly became the new battleground. The swelling, heat, and redness were intense. After multiple drainings, the decision was made to do a total synovectomy which at that time, wasn’t done arthroscopically. My knee was opened on both sides so the synovium could be removed.
Dr. Salter didn’t perform the surgery, but he had invented something that would shape my recovery: the Continuous Passive Motion (CPM) machine. I was one of the early patients to use it after this procedure. And of course, he came to check on me. Smiling, encouraging, genuinely interested in how I was doing. That was who he was. No matter how busy he was, he made himself available.
A Surgeon Who Never Forgot His Patients
Much later in my life, when I was researching the possibility of having my left knee fusion “taken down,” I tracked him down. I wasn’t sure he would remember me but he did. Not only that, he gave me thoughtful, honest advice about my next steps. I’ll share more about that in a future post, but what matters here is this: decades after my childhood surgeries, he still saw me as a person, not a file.
“His expertise was undeniable, but what made him unforgettable was his humanity.”
His Legacy
Dr. Salter’s legacy is enormous. His surgical innovations changed pediatric orthopaedics worldwide. The Salter osteotomy, the Salter-Harris fracture classification, and the CPM machine are known across the globe. His research shaped generations of surgeons. His leadership at SickKids set new standards for pediatric care.
He was appointed an Officer of the Order of Canada in 1977 and later promoted to Companion in 1997, the highest level of the Order. He also received the Order of Ontario in recognition of his contributions to pediatric orthopaedics. In 2003, he was inducted into the Canadian Medical Hall of Fame for his groundbreaking work and lasting impact on children’s health.
But for me and, I suspect, for so many of his patients, his legacy is also deeply personal. It’s in the mobility he gave us, the confidence he instilled, and the way he made us feel seen. His expertise was undeniable, but what made him unforgettable was his humanity.
Dr. Jack Crawford
Ophthalmologist, The Hospital for Sick Children (SickKids), Toronto
The Doctor Who Helped Me See My Way Through
Dr. Crawford was the doctor who guided me through a lifetime of uveitis, which is one of the most persistent companions of juvenile arthritis. He had the same rare combination of expertise and humanity that defined the very best physicians at SickKids.
He had a way of making difficult days easier. He understood the strain my mother was under, and he always made space for us. Sometimes literally. On the days when things were especially hard, he would bring me in right away, without fuss or explanation. It was a small gesture on his part, but it made a world of difference to us.
As I grew older, he shifted naturally from speaking to my parents to speaking directly to me. He involved me in decisions, explained what he was doing, and treated me as someone capable of understanding my own care. That mattered more than I realized at the time.
“He treated me as a person rather than a case number.”
His Legacy
Dr. Crawford served as Chief of Ophthalmology at SickKids, a role that reflected both his expertise and the trust his colleagues placed in him. His impact extended far beyond his clinic. April 4th is celebrated each year as Dr. Jack Crawford Day, recognizing his decades of service at SickKids and his leadership in pediatric ophthalmology. He was known internationally for his expertise in pediatric uveitis, and he helped train generations of physicians who continue to carry his influence forward
Dr. Crawford’s legacy lives not only in his medical contributions, but in the countless children he cared for with patience, respect, and kindness. I was one of them, and I am grateful.
What Their Care Made Possible
I am an adult with juvenile idiopathic arthritis, and I carry the work of these three doctors with me every day. Their care didn’t just treat my condition; it shaped my adulthood, my resilience, and the life I get to live. This page is my small way of saying thank you. For the surgeries, the decisions, the expertise, and the humanity behind it all.
If you’re navigating a diagnosis, a surgery, or a long medical journey, I hope you find doctors who see you the way these three saw me. Their impact reminds me that medicine is not just science. It’s relationship, trust, and care.