Such a bright light
Cade Reddington was a freshman at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee, just a couple of weeks shy of his 19th birthday. He had big plans and dreams for his life—of having a family one day and traveling the world. Having recently changed his major to psychology, Cade hoped to channel his own struggles with substance use into a career in drug and alcohol counseling.
When he was a junior in high school, Cade attended Narcotics Anonymous meetings for several months, until COVID ended in-person gatherings. He did not give in to stigma or shame. He wore his hundred-day sobriety chip proudly on his sneakers and tried to support friends who were also struggling. Yet despite Cade’s determination, the pull of the college party scene and easy access to drugs made his desire to live a sober life deeply challenging.
Just one fake Percocet pill made entirely of fentanyl cut his dreams short. Cade died in his dorm room, surrounded by three other students who did not know the signs of an opioid overdose. He died a preventable death.
Just eight months before his passing, Cade and his mother, Michelle, took a mother–son trip to Costa Rica. Their days were filled with outdoor adventures—ziplining, rainforest hikes, whitewater rafting, and jet skiing—an agenda perfectly suited to Cade’s energetic, thrill-seeking spirit. Never one to hold back his joy, he turned to Michelle several times during the trip and said, “Mom, this is the best trip ever.”
In a video filmed a year before his death while vacationing with his best friend Sydney, Cade looks into the camera and declares, “Guys, life is short, but be happy, work hard, and make your people happy.” This simple mantra captures his approach to life.
When Cade was twelve, he decided to master the backflip. He spent countless hours on the trampoline, practicing until he could land it effortlessly from the ground. It soon became his signature move. Picnic tables, fire hydrants, and cliffs transformed into stages, with Cade as the fearless performer.
Cade pulled people close without insecurity. He told his family and friends he loved them—often paired with one of his massive, unforgettable hugs. Known for his loyalty, compassion, and ability to truly listen, Cade formed deep and meaningful connections. Sydney, Ari, Julia, Carter, and Will each considered Cade their best friend.
Cade’s legacy is enormous.
Since his passing, Michelle—alongside another bereaved mother who also lost her son in the same dorm—successfully advocated for opioid reversal drugs to be accessible in all University of Wisconsin dorms. Michelle now works as a grief educator and grief yoga instructor, turning her personal tragedy into healing for others.
Cade’s spirit has also been felt in profound and unexpected ways. Three families, independent of one another, have shared with Michelle that they believe Cade’s spirit helped save their child’s life. One son entered treatment for fentanyl-laced pill addiction the very day he learned of Cade’s death. Another survived an overdose. A third lived through a devastating motorcycle crash—without a helmet—leaving doctors stunned.
Whenever Michelle shares Cade’s story, she believes his light continues to shine. Through his story, lives are being saved as more people learn about the dangers of fentanyl in fake pills and all street drugs, and how to recognize and respond to an opioid overdose.
In life and beyond, Cade’s dream of helping others struggling with substance use continues to ripple outward.
Cade’s mother, Michelle Kullmann, provided the information for this narrative.
November 22, 2002-November 4, 2021-Age 18
Portrait Artist: Carol Meckling
Narrative Writer: Livia Cohen
