Dear Casey,

My long distance dedication request begins in December of 1985. I’d had an accident the previous summer and totaled my car so I was at the mercy of other drivers. Kathy had come to pick me up from NIU for winter break. I swear I was the last student to leave Neptune North, as indicated by the urging of the jingling custodian’s keys.

Dave was there to say good-bye, we were heading to our different hometowns for the holiday. We hugged good-bye. We kissed good-bye. We clutched good-bye. And I cried. Tears streaming. I felt stupid and embarrassed and knew I’d be chapped when I ventured out into the cold winter air, but I could not stop. I was overwhelmed by how much I missed him already. After Dave left, Kathy said, “You love him.”

I thought, my god, I do! 

My friends knew, my family knew, heck, half of campus probably knew. But it wasn’t until that moment that I KNEW.

We’d been together since April and we’d probably said it to each other before this—thinking we meant it, whether we knew what it meant or not. In this moment I knew it must be love.

Eight months later, we were married.

And twenty-eight years later, I’m sharing this story.

In honor of our twenty-eighth anniversary, I’d like to dedicate Madness’ hit, “It Must be Love,” to Dave, through the years from 1985 to 2014– that’s a pretty long distance.

Mary

I grew up with Casey Kasem and his weekly countdowns. I couldn’t wait for the Long Distance Dedications. It totally sucks that there’s a whole generation (or two) of people whose only knowledge about Casey Kasem is the recent clickbait regarding his death and disappearances. This blog is in honor of decades of sappy radio play and the man who brought it to us.

Neptune North, 1985