Many of you may have already heard the news of the death of Royal Marshall, engineer and sidekick for the Neal Boortz radio show.  It will take some time to accept Royal's unscheduled departure.

Like any place of work, some of the people you work with become as close as family - or as aggravating as family. 

And when you look behind the curtain at Neal Boortz, Belinda Skelton and Royal Marshall, that's exactly what you saw - family.

Yes, they fought with each other at times, but for 15 years, they worked hard together, and it has been my privilege to work alongside them.

And so when news arrived on Saturday that Royal had suddenly collapsed and died of a heart attack, it was a thunderbolt to our radio family.

I first met Royal soon after he came on board in 1993 at WSB, the flagship station for the Boortz show, as Royal started off as the board operator/engineer for Neal, and morphed into a part-time foil as well. (The photo of the three of us is from an event in Atlanta in July of 2006.)

Over time, Royal and I got to shoot the breeze every weekday before I went on with Neal in the Information Overload Hour, a live appearance that started in the wake of the Nine Eleven attacks.

We spent a few minutes for almost every day since 2001 having a few laughs, talking about the latest big news story, golf, our wives and our kids.

Royal's two daughters are 4 and 2 years old; my kids are 6, 4 and 2, making the news of his death that much more difficult to digest.

A few times over the years, Royal would sit in for Neal on my short segment and we would have a good time talking on the air about the issues of the day.  Royal knew his stuff; he proved that on his show, "The Royal Treatment."

One time, I was waiting to go live with Neal, when Royal suddenly told me that I was going to have to re-introduce the program, because Boortz was evidently either spending too long in the bathroom or too much time chatting up babes in the hallways, and the commercial break was running out.

So, Royal gave me the countdown, I welcomed everyone back to the program, and then Neal returned a few seconds later to a round of laughter among the three of us.

Here's a picture of Boortz, me and Royal at the Democratic Convention in Denver back in 2008, as the two of them stopped by my workspace for a quick chat.
Sometimes when I would come into Atlanta for a visit, or just call in on the phone to talk to Royal and/or Belinda, I would find out the two of them weren't talking to each other, like a husband and wife who are fed up with one another.

It would leave me - as the innocent bystander - shaking my head at the two of them.

One thing Royal liked to do was cut things close when it came to getting me on the air with Neal every day, often waiting until just seconds before my time began to connect to my broadcast line at the U.S. Capitol.

Unfortunately, sometimes that timing didn't work, and I wasn't on the air with Neal at my appointed time, which often resulted in Boortz giving me a hard time on the air, like I was the one causing the delay.

After some "friendly" chit chat about that one time, I finally convinced Royal that hooking up to me four or five minutes early wasn't the worst thing in the world, and actually, he had done just that for about the last year.

Royal will be sorely missed by the people who saw him every day, and by people like this reporter, who got to spend a few minutes with him almost every day as well.

I will always remember how fun it was to walk into the room where Neal, Belinda and Royal worked at WSB - first stop was a hug for Belinda and then a big handshake for Royal, as I usually only saw them a few times at most each year.

"How is he today?" I would often ask Royal just before going on the air with Boortz, trying to get a gauge on what I might be in for in the next few minutes.

"The horse is headed for the barn," Royal would often say as Neal approached the end of his broadcast day with my segment.

For whatever reason, Royal's horse headed to the barn last weekend.

Royal will be missed by all.