2013 was a tough year.

Losing three very close friends was devastating. Royce Elliott was like a brother. Pete Vonachen was like a father and Jonathan Winters was a joy, an absolute joy.

I had known Royce since high school. As a graduate assistant at Bradley, he was a student in my speech class. Over the years we became closer and I watched in admiration as he continued up the ladder of success. I saw him open for Lou Rawls at Drury Lane outside Chicago. He “killed” the audience with his performance. Royce took me to St. Louis and later to Dyersville, Iowa, to the Randy Hundley baseball fantasy camps where I met and played former Major League players like Bob Gibson, Joe Pepitone, Gene Oliver, and Reggie Jackson.

I often emceed local and area shows for Royce. We did radio and cable TV programs together. We didn’t make a pot full of money, but we had fun and met a lot of wonderful. “Breakfast with Royce and Roger” became a local broadcast staple for thousands of listeners. To know Royce Elliott was to know a man who not only was a master at telling jokes, but one of the wittiest. I remember one morning on our show, I said with sarcasm, “You know Royce, I’ve never cared for you.”

His quick response was, “What a coincidence.”

When we weren’t together we were on the phone talking about Barney Fife, Floyd the barber, or Gomer Pyle and the Andy Griffith Show. He loved Archie Bunker and could quote dialogue with amazing accuracy. Like me, Royce was a strong conservative and we often talked politics and thought Britt Hume was and is the most intelligent and objective television reporter.

And there was a uniqueness about our friendship that convinced me it was to be. My birthday is March 28 and his is the 29th. My wife’s birthday is October 10 and his wife’s is October 9. And he would remind me he celebrated Christmas on the 25th of December as I did.

Hours before he died at St. Francis, I was able to touch him and say, “Royce, I love you like a brother.” Weakly, he said, “Thank you.”

And then there was Pete Vonachen, Peoria’s “Mr. Baseball.” He knew more people and had more friends than anyone I knew and he took time to acknowledge them. Like Royce, Pete loved life. Our friendship really blossomed when Royce and I started our radio show on WOAM in 2002. Pete was a regular guest, so much so, we could’ve billed it, “Breakfast with Royce, Pete and Roger.”

We loved the man and he loved being on the show. Rocky, his son, told me one day at the ballpark that being a part of our morning show was therapeutic for his father. We had more laughs when he was around and his laughter was contagious.

And Pete was a big asset to the show’s popularity. He lined up well-known sports guests like Chicago Cub announcer Pat Hughes, Tim McCarver, Milt Pappas, Ryne Sandburg, and many others. Who could forget his comical and moving eulogy for his close friend Harry Caray? By the way, did you know Ronald Reagan was a Cub announcer from 1933 to 1936?

Pete was a fantastic story-teller and he rarely repeated a story. On of the best was when he shared with our audience how he borrowed $3,000 from his father to start a cleaning business on Farmington Road. He called it “Snappy Cleaners,” and used a turtle as his business logo. His first major customer was the Bradley football team. They sent their football coats for cleaning. Pete’s process ruined them and he went out of business.

Laughing about it, he said his father made him pay back every penny.

Pete was a fighter. Struggling with diabetes, Pete lost part of a leg, had a number of critical hospitalizations and medical challenges, but always bounced back with an optimistic attitude. During his final months, every Monday morning after the show, I would pick up a decaf cup of coffee and some glazed donuts (at his request) and have breakfast with him at his home. Mike Olson was a regular, then Joe Stowell, Ken Goldin, Phil Theobald, and others. Like the radio show, we had a barrel of laughs.

Fortunately, I was able to talk with him on the phone the day before he died.

We all have visions of being able to meet a performer we admire; a person who is world renown. We see them in the movies, on television, and listen to their albums, wondering what they are like in real life.

One of the many commonalities Royce and I enjoyed, was the humor of Jonathan Winters.

A public relations firm in Los Angeles used to call me to book guests and one day they asked me who I would like to interview. I said, “I’m a big fan of Jonathan Winters.” The pr guy checked his list of stars and personalities and came up with Jonathan’s home phone number. I immediately called and Jonathan answered. The rest is a wonderful history of a friendship beyond even my wildest dreams. We became close friends.

Jonathan later told me his wife was fighting breast cancer. He called me hours before Eileen died at their home. He talked for over an hour about their wonderful marriage. A little after 6 am Peoria time, he called to tell me she died. We talked again for an hour and a half. This giant of an entertainment icon called Roger Monroe in Morton, Illinois, to grieve over the loss of the woman he had been married to for 60 years. I was honored to think that in one of his darkest hours he turned to me to share his thoughts, to seek comfort.

We often talked on the phone at least every two weeks. He frequently used pseudo voices, especially when he left messages. I still have many of them. Jonathan was a comedic genius, but most importantly, he was a compassionate man. He learned about my wife’s medical struggles and always asked about her and always closed our phone conversations by saying, “Give Nancy my best.”

The sad part about our friendship is I never met him personally, though I was invited to his home in Monticeto, California. His daughter, Lucinda, did invite me to his memorial service in Santa Barbara. What a memorable memorial service it was with video highlights of his life interspersed with euolgies with well-known entertainment personalities like Bonnie Hunt and Frank Sinatra, Jr. and words from Lucinda and her brother, Jay.

Obviously, I’ll always remember his clean comedy that included appearances on Jack Paar and Johnny Carson, and his fabulous performance in “Its A Mad, Mad World.” I cherish all the great Jonathan Winters albums and CDs I own along with the autographed book he sent, “Winter’s Tales,” and the sensational five pencil drawings hanging on the walls of our home. But, I’ll never forget the timing of his uplifting phone calls he made. As those who care or have cared for a spouse who’s fighting medical challenges know, there are moments when you become overwhelmed, physically and emotionally. Jonathan seemed to know or sense when I needed support. It was amazing….the timing of his calls.

Sadly, I didn’t know he was dying. I heard the news while driving home from the radio station. Like Royce. Like Pete. Like my mother and father. I was devastated.

I often wonder why there is death in life. Do you? And if there must be death, why at Christmas time? Why when we the birth of Jesus, must we grieve the death of a family member, of a friend, of a loved one? I lost two others during the holidays. Susan Baker of Manito, the mother of neighbor Angie Beender, and a close family friend, Si Wagenbach of Tremont, both victims of cancer and much too young to leave this world.

My condolences to their families.

Mother Teresa said, “Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.” No one exemplified that Mother Teresa admonition better than Royce, Pete, Jonathan, Susan, or Si.