The name may mean nothing to you, but to the staff at the Massachusetts Daily Collegian, Casey Kane is a legend.

Casey Kane was an Editor-in-Chief and Sports Editor of the Massachusetts Daily Collegian. She was also a Red Sox fan, a UMass student and a friend.

The last time she darkened the doors of the Collegian was when she graduated from the journalism program in May of 1999 – but the mark she left on the newspaper and the people who make it flourishes still today.

Here at the Collegian, our family grows by the day. We are constantly gaining new writers, meeting new people and branching out in the UMass community. However on May 19, our newspaper lost a member who may arguably have been its finest. Casey Kane died of pneumonia due to complications with lymphoma treatment. She was 28.

I do not remember Casey. She graduated several years before I had even heard of the Collegian. But sitting here at the news desk on an unremarkable weeknight in the newsroom, I have a very good sense of who she was. There is a common thread that bonds every person who ever holds a position in the newsroom – the love of journalism.

Casey was, first and foremost, a Collegian writer. Awarded 12 varsity letters for tennis, field hockey, swimming and soccer, she was not unique simply because of her athletic prowess. The Holyoke native aspired to be a professional sports writer – an admirable challenge for any woman in a genre of journalism that is still dominated by men.

She began immediately as a freshman, walking the trail of a sports reporter across Garber Field, Warren P. McGuirk Alumni Stadium and the Mullins Center, impressing everyone she came into contact with, from her fellow reporters to the athletes she covered.

When she became Editor-in-Chief, the most highly regarded position on the paper; Casey didn’t just make sure the papers hit the press on time and that every headline was balanced, well reported and clear. She did much more.

Casey made the Collegian a fun place to work – a daunting and often impossible task for any leader in an environment where a night can stretch from 5 p.m. until 3 a.m., where the pressure of up-to-the-minute deadlines, chronic exhaustion and endless criticism from the outside community can sometimes cause the desk editors themselves to question why they don’t throw down the pen and notebook, climb the stairs of the Campus Center and rejoin the world of regularly-sleeping, socially active UMass students.

It’s a story like Casey’s that lifts our spirits, and keeps us vying for the most captivating interview or that perfect photograph.

According to her friends and coworkers, when Casey worked at the Collegian, she made the newsroom feel much like it does today – like a family. Matt Vautour, a close friend and former Collegian Editor-in-Chief himself, said, “She liked people liking to be in her company.”

“She was the closest thing the Collegian ever had to a rock star – and held that role modestly and effortlessly,” wrote Julie Fialkow, a former Collegian staff writer. “I have never met a woman like Casey before and I know I never will.”

Casey’s gleaming personality continued even in January of 2000, when she was first diagnosed with Hodgkins disease, a form of lymphoma.

“In typical Casey fashion, she was often scared to talk about her illness. Mostly, she was scared about how other people would react, so she sheltered many of us,” wrote Jon Solomon, a co-worker at the Anderson Independent Mail, where Casey covered University of South Carolina sports after college when she was first diagnosed.

As her blonde hair fell out and regrew brown and curly due to chemotherapy treatments, Casey refused to let those around her be worried with her illness, humorously dyeing her hair funky shades of red, and referring to her treatment as “Keno Therapy.”

“She said all you had to do was pick the right numbers,” said Vautour, who shaved his head to match Casey’s the first time she lost her hair.

Her struggle with lymphoma was long and tiring. Not one or two, but three bouts of recurring cancer and treatment dotted her life for over two years. To this day, Vautour still carries with him an everyday reminder of Casey’s struggle – the top of his head has remained bald from her second chemotherapy session.

“I’m not ready to change it yet,” he said.

Although many of us never knew her, Casey is still very much a part of the Collegian. Sometimes late at night, when every computer is humming, the coffee is being passed around and we all joke and laugh while rushing to finish the next day’s issue before deadline, the names of old Collegian legends begin to haunt our conversations.

We tell stories of old writers and editors who grew from writing previews of on-campus lectures to gracing the front pages of the Boston Globe, the newscasts of ESPN and hosting radio shows all over the nation. We tell stories of people who typed on these very computers in the basement of the Campus Center and dreamed as big as we do – dreams of following the passion that first led us all to the Collegian.

As time goes on, some of the names begin to sink into the shadows. But unlike a good news story – current today, old tomorrow – the name of one Collegian legend will always be timely: Casey Kane.

Erika Lovley is a Collegian columnist.