When my sailor would go back to his ship it was a difficult and lonely time for me and it was the same for him. When we were together we spent the days laughing with friends and the nights alone -- in love.

I knew mom could not afford for me to call his ship each night so that I could tell him how much I missed him but then he told me there was a way we could still be together. How? I asked. He said that at night as he stood watch on the quarter deck he listened to Wolfman Jack and looked up at the moon when it was out. We could listen together.

So, each night about 10PM in the darkness of my room I took my little transistor radio that mom bought for my 14th birthday and searched the dial until I could find that station. If I tilted the radio just so the static would lessen. The program came in with a weak signal, barely audible on the AM band. I don't remember the setting on the dial but when I caught the sound of that crusty old man voice I knew I had found my link. Each time when I listened my sailor was there, his body was 500 miles away but his heart was there in my room with me, listening to our songs and the Wolfman.

When the moon was full and the night sky clear I would listen to the Wolfman and stare at the full moon and know that my sailor was not really far away afterall. He was as close as the sounds in my ear, the breath in my body and the gentle beating of my heart.

Thanks Wolfman, for everything and for making it easier for a 16 year old girl to love a sailor that was far, far away.

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