6 May 29 - June 4, 2025 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents Kay, who was born and also given up for adoption by a 16-year-old girl and a 34-year- old man who were having an improper stu- dent-teacher relationship at the high school in the tiny outpost of Anthony, Kansas, 60 miles southwest of Wichita. (Both of Collings’ natural parents have since died.) Collings contacted Kay and traveled to Wichita to attend her newly discovered nephew’s wedding. “More than anything,” Collings said, “I always wondered if I looked like anybody else.” She chatted with her sister, hugged her nephew and perused old photos. But unflap- pable to the core, Collings left with more of a “meh” than an epiphany. “I’m glad I went … it answered some questions,” she said. “But did it change any- thing about me? No, not really.” Though she’s reluctant to draw a direct correlation to her childhood abandonments, Collings has chosen never to get married. She’s had the same boyfriend for 15 years. He lives in her Devonshire neighborhood in Dallas, but she’s never seriously considered him moving in. “We’re together,” she joked. “Just not all the time.” After Grandma passed away in 2009, Collings found herself alone again. But not for long. Through the years, she became close friends with two married patients in Las Co- linas whom she first met in 1998. Their rela- tionship flourished into dinners, social events, holidays and even international travel. In 2021, four years after her husband passed away, the wife of the couple, Robbie Raphael, legally adopted Collings as her 53-year-old daughter. “I was struggling after knee surgery, and my doctor told me there’s only one person that can help you, and he sent me to Dr. Mary,” Raphael said. “She just had this vul- nerability and sweetness about her, but she was also so strong. Since she wasn’t tethered to anything, every Christmas and holiday she’d run off somewhere on a vacation. Well, we decided to give her a family to be with. It was meant to be.” Said Collings: “People hear my story and the initial reaction is to feel sorry for me. But I’m lucky. How many people do you know that have been adopted twice?” Collings is a mainstay at Dallas’ see-and- be-seen events. She supports various philan- thropic ventures such as the Alzheimer’s Association and Dallas Arboretum and spends multiple nights per week network- ing in little black dresses. During the interview for this story, she was recognized twice at the restaurant within an hour. “I call it the four degrees of me,” she said with a laugh. “I’m connected to almost ev- eryone in Dallas in four steps. I love what I do, taking care of people. I’m living the American dream … born in a small town but moved to the big city and made something of myself.” The “poor little thing” refused to let bro- ken connections shatter her spirit. Now she’s the powerful professional the Maver- icks and Stars can’t live without. From the Beach to the Gridiron B efore Collings could conquer Dallas, she had to overcome her fear of flying, especially over water. Before that, she also had to decide on a career path. Her grandmother lit that run- way, taking her to regular chiropractic ap- pointments starting at age 5. “She was a nurse, and we went every month for an adjustment,” Collings said. “It was for our wellness, but it also made my ca- reer choice pretty obvious.” After graduating from Kansas State, she chose between two chiropractic colleges: Palmer vs. Parker. “I mean, it was Davenport, Iowa, or Dal- las,” she said. “No-brainer” While enrolled at Parker in 1992, she ac- companied a friend obsessed with beach volleyball on a trip to California. Not partic- ularly interested in the sport and bored on the hot sand of Manhattan Beach, she went for a stroll and came upon a tent selling the types of tables she used to work on patients back in Dallas. She asked questions and met Dr. Tim Brown, the Association of Volleyball Profes- sionals Tour’s medical director. “You’re in chiropractic school? Great be- cause we’re short-staffed, and I could use some help,” Brown said. “Can you stretch out a couple of the players?” Surprised and energized, Collings went to work and wound up volunteering for two straight days. When she returned to Dallas, she told school founder Dr. James Parker about her AVP interaction. He offered to help her get an internship and give her credit for her time on the tour. Enter the flying and the giant, scary body of water known as the Pacific Ocean. Collings’ first tour event was scheduled in Hawaii in February 1993. On the eight- hour flight by herself, she nervously dug her nails into the arms of the seat, squirmed un- comfortably and shot endless glances out the window into the vast blueness. Eventu- ally, two men in her row attempted to calm her nerves. They ordered her a cocktail and began interviewing her, in an attempt to dis- tract her from being distraught. It worked, and the men were conve- niently members of the DFW sports media. They were on the flight to Honolulu to at- tend the NFL Pro Bowl and cover several players from the Dallas Cowboys, who had just a day earlier won Super Bowl XXVII in Pasadena, California. By the end of the flight, Collings had met several more media members, and relation- ships — even friendships — were born. The next day, she bumped into the media group in the hotel lobby, and they told her they had a friend who needed treatment in his hotel room. Her excitement dwarfing her hesitance, Collings got the room number, lugged her table and knocked on the door. “There’s this big guy … very polite … said he’s sore and tight all over and needed an ad- justment,” she said. “I told him I was just a student still in school. But he said, ‘You come highly recommended.’ We were about the same age, and we both lived in Oklahoma for a while, so it was nice. But I didn’t know him from Adam.” The next day at the AVP tournament on Waikiki Beach, Collings was working in a treatment tent when her new client ap- peared. “You’re really good,” he said. “I feel great. Can I make another appointment? I have some friends that would like to see you also.” As he walked away, Dr. Brown excitedly rushed over to Collings. “Wait, how the hell,” he said, “do you know Troy Aikman?!” With Aikman, the Super Bowl MVP and soon-to-be highest-paid player in the NFL, as her first reference, Collings became con- vinced she should launch a practice in Dal- las rather than trek back to Alva. After graduating, she opened a 900-square-foot office in Irving near the Cowboys’ former Valley Ranch headquarters. About that time, the Stars hockey team arrived from Minne- sota. “I was so young, but when I included Troy and some of the other Cowboys as cli- ents, the Stars’ trainer sent me a player to work on,” Collings said. “I’ve been with them ever since.” Good reputations travel fast within the sports community. Collings soon expanded to a bigger space in Las Colinas (she moved to Snider Plaza in 2010). In 2005, when Cu- ban wanted to provide his players with a team chiropractor, Mavs’ trainer Casey Smith called the Stars for a recommenda- tion. Bingo. “Her empathy and forthrightness about the care that one is receiving is without par- allel,” said Smith, now the head athletic trainer for Team USA Basketball and vice president of sports medicine for the NBA’s New York Knicks. “Her collaborative nature. Her ability to relate to people. The ability to meld her knowledge and experience with practitioners across the spectrum of health- care is unmatched.” Proof that, progress and laurels be damned, sports remain essentially a man’s world: Despite her tireless efforts and unde- niable contributions, Collings didn’t receive a championship ring when the Stars won the Stanley Cup in 1999 or when the Mavs captured their lone title in 2011. Said Collings of the snub, “I have made enough memories to last a lifetime.” Citing medical confidentiality, she re- fused to divulge her patient list. But from speaking with players and associates — and simply taking a gander at the autographed photos on the walls in her office — it’s clear she has treated Mavs stars from Dirk Nowit- zki to Luka Doncic, Stars players from Mike Modano to Roope Hintz, Cowboys legends such as Aikman and Darren Woodson, and assorted celebrities Willie Nelson, Chuck Norris, Alannis Morissette and Def Leppard lead singer Joe Elliott. When nationally renowned TV inter- viewer Piers Morgan had Cuban on as a guest in 2014, he asked the Mavs owner to open his wallet. When Cuban obliged, out popped $700 cash … and Collings’ business card. To this day, Collings hasn’t spent $1 on advertising, instead growing via elite word of mouth. “There’s no magic formula,” she said. “Be good. Be nice. Be discreet.” “I Have Always Belonged” C ollings has traveled the world, spending a week treating 250 underprivileged patients along the Amazon River in South America in 2008 as part of the Cost- ner Medical Mission. The American Chiro- practic Board of Sports Physicians has also named her “Chiropractor of the Year.” Her most remarkable feat, however, might be successfully and safely navigating sweat- stained, testosterone-fueled locker rooms and corrosive cultures that have recently spawned sexual misconduct scandals. NFL players Deshaun Watson and Justin Tucker were accused of harassing and assaulting massage therapists, and Cuban in 2018 agreed to donate $10 million to women’s or- ganizations after a Mavs workplace investiga- tion revealed, among other things, that team CEO Terdema Ussery had inappropriate in- teractions with 15 women over 18 years. Her secret: An unwavering confidence, disarming personality and no-nonsense pro- fessional decorum. “I feel as though I have always belonged there,” Collings said of locker rooms. “I have never had any inappropriateness directed at me. It is their locker room. I am just Nathan Hunsinger Troy Aikman referred Dr. Collings to other athletes in Dallas, spawning her career. Unfair Park from p4 >> p8
