A flight with Ted Knight was an absolute delight.

I will never forget my Knight flight.

It was during the day, actually, in early January of 1997. I was trying to pass the time during a layover at the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport, making my way back to Regina after spending five days in Dallas attempting to solve the Kennedy assassination.

Seated near the departure gate, I was attacking a stack of newspapers when, all of a sudden, I heard a familiar voice. “Robbie!”

It was Ted Knight.

He was returning to Regina from Florida, where he also maintained a residence, and we just happened to be on the same Northwest Airlines flight.

I was introduced to Ted long before meeting him in person. How many people of my vintage don’t recall the Crestview Chrysler ads that featured the dealership’s owner saying: “If you can find a better deal at a better price, BUY IT!”

One of his most notable acquisitions was the Regina Pats. In 1986, Knight become a part-owner of the WHL team — a member of a quintet that also included Bill Hicke, Morley Gusway, Jack Nicolle and Huddy Bell.

In 1988, I started covering the Pats for the Regina Leader-Post and very quickly hit it off with Ted. He had a great sense of humour and lots of opinions. Chatting with him became a favourite part of the gig.

At times, he disagreed with the tenor of my coverage, and never hesitated to make his feelings known in those situations. But once we talked it over, face to face, we always shook hands and the back-and-forth — even when it was contentious — was forgotten.

Knight and company sold the Pats in the spring of 1995, but that didn’t prevent Ted from picking up the phone on occasion.

“Robbie!”

Who could mistake the voice? And on we went.

So there we were at the gate in Minneapolis-St. Paul, with some time to kill. The newspapers were promptly ignored, as embarrassing as that is to disclose, and Ted had my full attention.

Suddenly, a normally tedious layover was something to savour. We swapped stories, shared a few jokes, and laughed the time away.

Suitably, time flew by in an airport. Before too long, the boarding announcement was made.

“Where are you sitting?” Ted inquired.

“I’m in 14A,” I responded, eloquently.

Ted shook his head and laughed. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said, “but I’m in 14B.”

Profuse, belated thanks to Northwest Airlines for the arbitrary assignment of 14A.

The two-hour flight seemed to take about two minutes. We chatted the entire time.

Knowing of my affinity for dogs, Ted mentioned that he was thinking about adding a growler to his collection.

“How many dogs do you have?” I asked.

“Two,” he said.

“Well,” I answered, “if you get another one, you’ll be a Three-Dog Knight.”

That was it. We laughed so hard that the oxygen masks were nearly required.

The yuk-fest ended when we arrived in Regina. Mom was at the terminal to meet me, so I introduced her to Ted.

Rare is the vacation in which a return flight is a highlight, but that excursion was a notable exception.

I thought of it the other day, upon hearing that Ted had died after a five-year battle with cancer. Over 78 years, he did some amazing things — succeeding in business and as a friend to all.

It occurred to me that each member of the ownership quintet has now left us.

They stepped forward when the team was in a dire situation and in danger of moving — as unimaginable as that notion seems now, when massive crowds are the norm and a Regina-based Memorial Cup is only a few months away.

It never felt like I was interviewing any of the Pats’ owners when they were named Ted, Bill, Morley, Jack and Huddy.

It was always an easy conversation, in which I just happened to be taking notes.

I was very fortunate — more than I realized at the time. Covering the Pats was my first high-profile gig at the Leader-Post. The owners were always generous with their time and thoughts — to the event that they all felt like they knew two of my prized hounds — Peeve the lovable mutt, followed by Oscar the manipulative Scottish terrier).

In fact, Ted initiated one impromptu canine conversation following our airborne trek from Minneapolis-St. Paul.

We happened to cross paths, and he was in a hurry.

Spotting me, however, he simply had to extend his right hand and say hello.

And then came the capper.

“I got another dog, by the way,” he said with a broad smile and a gleam in his eye.

“Three-Dog Knight!”