In an otherwise positive week, the e-mail I had been dreading finally arrived in my inbox. The message was gently delivered from Beasley's corporate communication director Denyse Mesnik: Jerry Wayne was gone.
 
My mind spun back to 1994 when, shortly after founding our firm, we were tasked with finding someone for Park Broadcasting's Oldies station in Coastal Carolina. Webb James, Park's manager for the region, liked the idea of a 23 year old kid from Detroit who we had submitted as a possibility. We decided to take a chance on Jerry Wayne; too young, too inexperienced, but loaded with raw potential. But there was something more...something intangible. Jerry Wayne had the ethereal "it." Over the years WNCT passed to Beasley Broadcasting, and Jerry Wayne became a radio star in this unwieldy geography that stretches from east of Raleigh to the barrier islands off the North Carolina Coast.
 
Besides his dual role as Program Director and Operations Manager, Jerry attached himself to innumerable causes and crusades. His efforts literally raised millions for Children's Miracle Network, while his morning show captured the hearts of thousands across the market. Just weeks ago, Jerry Wayne was diagnosed with advanced cancer. As he faced this news, we talked about it in a call. "Ah hell, I have to deal with it," he said. This past week, while surrounded by family and Beasley radio colleagues, Jerry died. "Talking about radio until his last breath," said his friend and early mentor, Webb James. Beasley's outstanding Market Manager Bruce Simel reaffirmed what those who knew Jerry have long known: when we lose someone we often reflect that he or she "touched so many lives." Jerry Wayne not only touched lives, he illuminated them.
 
His worst day was wonderful and bad news only inspired him, while his people adored him as they ran to catch up with Jerry's ideas and emotionally charged plans. He was in high animation from the small hours treading off to the studio until well after dark, often appearing at a benefit or station function. It's said that life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the number of moments that take our breath away. Jerry could do exactly that. He'd roll into an idea, and before you knew it, you were right there with him, cheer leading a concept, seeing its merit.
 
Most of us question these tragedies. Why must this insidious disease indiscriminately rob us of the best and brightest (or anyone at all)? Jerry would smile at this ponderous waste of time saying something like "Well, man plans, God laughs." Jerry had little time for the negative as he strolled through his days making us laugh, giving us inspiration, and reminding us there are people in this world who exist solely for the reward of just being.  Jerry Wayne's family, friends, and listeners gathered in a Goldsboro church on a North Carolina early fall Saturday to say goodbye. The candle that burned twice as bright burned only half as long. 
 
                       Today, the road all runners come,
                       Shoulder high we bring you home,
                       And set you at your threshold down,
                       Townsman of a stiller town.
 
                       Smart lad, to slip betimes away
                       From fields where glory does not stay,
                       And early though the laurel grows
                       It withers quicker than the rose.
 
Jerry Wayne was thirty-eight.