I still remember the phone call.

It was the sports editor of the 'other' newspaper in town, the guy I was competing against every day. So the conversation, as I recall, was a tad on the awkward side.

But much to my surprise, he was calling to offer me a job.

I met with Dennis Fisher the next morning and he hired me on the spot, and I jumped ship, going from Intelligencer Journal part-time sports correspondent to New Era full-time sports writer in one firm handshake.

My life changed forever.

And it was all because of him.

I didn't know Dennis very well back in October of 1999. I knew his wife, Sue, very well. She was my English teacher at Conestoga Valley Middle School, and we had stayed in touch in one way or another over the years.

I got to know Dennis quickly. And wow, did he ever grow on me.

A friendship developed. Then trust. And pretty soon he was giving me more leeway with writing and beats and covering sports around the county — giving me pointers and helping me with my writing style all along the journey.

I would not be where I am today without Dennis Fisher.

No full-time sports-writing job at the New Era. No new gig as online sports writer for Lancaster Newspapers. No View From the Press Box sports blog. No awards hanging on the wall.

Heck, when my wife and I found each other again long after our college days, it was Dennis who took the message from her and left it on my desk one morning.

I can still see his scribbled note on the green office paper: "Call Rebecca."

My wife and I befriended Dennis and Sue and they graciously let us into their life.

We used to meet them at different restaurants around the county. We were invited to dinner parties at their home. We were invited over to swim. And because we shared the love of traveling, we were invited over to look at photo albums and even map out future road trips.

We thought so much of Dennis and Sue that we asked them to be the godparents of our daughter, Sarah, who will turn 5 in two weeks.

Which makes it even tougher to report that Dennis Fisher, my friend, my mentor and the godfather of our daughter, died of cancer Tuesday night.

I regret that I was not there to say goodbye and to thank him one last time.

When I think of Dennis I think of passion.

About how passionate he was for his wife, Sue.

I remember working in the office early on in my career at the New Era, and he would speak with Sue on the phone a couple of times a day. And every time, without fail, he would tell her that he loved her before hanging up. Every single time. I admired the heck out of that.

We could be right up against deadline, with papers flying all over the place and the pre-press guys calling — one time to remind Dennis that page C-7 was blank, and he had like one minute to fill it — but if he was on the phone with Sue, she always had his undivided attention.

About how passionate he was for putting out the best possible sports section every day.

I remember him sitting there with layout sheets and those awful green felt tip pens, and him designing pages with his less-than-perfect penmanship, which he often joked about.

He tried cramming in every last story in every last nook and cranny of newsprint every day.

About how passionate he was for writing.

It's funny because for the first five or six years that I worked for him, I didn't know Dennis wrote. He talked about writing stories at the start of his career, but I hadn't seen him write anything since I joined his staff.

And then, after he announced his retirement, he began writing stories about folks from around the county that he used to cover: trip-down-memory-lane pieces.

I remember reading his first few columns and just sitting there, my jaw dropped, wondering why he hadn't written for so long. Wonderful story-telling that jumped off the page and put you right there. And humorous anecdotes, using words that made you smile like only Dennis could.

Dennis was the funniest person I've ever met. He used to make me laugh until my sides split. And nobody in my little circle told a story better than Dennis. Nobody. He could tell the same story 10 times, but it would always be funnier than the last.

After he retired, he continued writing travel pieces for the Sunday News, and his stories put you right there — at the base of the Berner Alps in Switzerland or searching for moose in the backwoods of New England.

And about how passionate he was about life.

Dennis lived life to the absolute fullest, whether he was traveling overseas with Sue, being extremely active in his church, showing off his fantastic train set to Sarah, or even just playing Wiffle Ball in his backyard with a friend.

I'm pretty sure I beat him in Home Run Derby the last time we played.

But he had a wicked curveball.

Online sports writer Jeffrey Reinhart can be reached at jreinhart@LNPnews.com.