He smiled a lot. And he meant it.
That’s what I remember about Corey Dykes. You can always tell the difference between a real “glad to see you” smile and the phony kind. Corey’s was the real thing. The truth is, I didn’t know him that well. He worked for a while in our ad sales department at the Finger Lakes Radio Group, then left for a chance to manage a radio station in the north country in Ogdensburg. Recently, when we opened a digital division to help advertisers get more bang for their buck, Corey came back home to run it and to get away from winters in Ogdensburg. When he stuck his head in my studio for the first time upon his return, there was that smile. That “nice to be working with you again” smile and a hearty handshake.
He was good at what he did. He could talk the language of Google Analytics and geofencing and a lot of other stuff I didn’t fully understand. When we last talked, it was about me and some of the other on air people test driving cars from some of our auto dealer clients while he rode shotgun and recorded the whole thing to Facebook Live. It sounded like fun.
I wish I’d gotten to do it. Corey died at 33 earlier this week. One of those one in a million medical things that isn’t supposed to happen to young people with their whole lives ahead of them.
A family has lost a real decent guy, the Redskins and Yankees have lost a fan and we’re all going to be short one warm smile this week. It doesn’t seem fair. It’s not.