When Bishop Séamus Hegarty left a message saying he needed to have an urgent and totally confidential conversation, it was difficult to know what to expect.
It was February, 2000, and, while the Catholic Church was facing a range of issues, it was very unusual for a member of the hierarchy to seek a direct engagement with a newspaper editor. Exchanges at public events tended to be polite but distant, and a telephone call from a bishop to The Irish News was a particularly rare event.
Clerical matters turned out not to be on the mind of Dr Hegarty, a person I barely knew, and instead he asked that I should travel alone as soon as possible from Belfast to Derry for a private discussion on a looming political crisis.
I drove to his office beside St Eugene's Cathedral, following his instructions to park in a quiet spot and use a side door, before being ushered in to a wood panelled study and provided with tea.
The bishop, a reserved figure with a distinctive south Donegal accent, paused only to light his pipe while outlining his startling thoughts on the long-running dispute over paramilitary decommissioning which appeared likely to force the suspension of the Northern Ireland Assembly within days.
Dr Hegarty said calmly and firmly that he would personally accept arms from the IRA, or indeed any other illegal group, while, as he put it, acting` as guarantor and supervisor for the safeguarding of a quantity of weapons of war.'
He did not say where the material was to be held, or how paramilitary leaders could contact him, but indicated that structures were in place.
The bishop said his role would be for a maximum of 12 months, on the clear understanding that arms would then be put beyond use under the auspices of General John de Chastelain’s decommissioning body.
It was a proposal surrounded by risks, as it was quite possible that unionists would claim he was effectively facilitating a republican movement which might well coldly dismiss his offer in any case.
The bishop had considered these possibilities but felt he must protect the devolved institutions, as well as a peace process which was still at a delicate stage, and was prepared to face the pressures which might occur along the way.
He probably knew that the prospects of an early breakthrough were remote but believed that he was sending out an important message from within the Catholic and nationalist tradition.
We agreed that the full statement he had prepared would be published in The Irish News the following morning, together with further coverage explaining the background, and he would deal with any further consequences.
I pointed out that the story would likely to generate significant interest from other media outlets, but Dr Hegarty said he had already decided to make no further comment.
With a deadpan expression, he said he would be retreating to a part of the Inishowen peninsula where he was confident that he was not be traced by journalists for some days - a prediction which proved to be accurate.
His intervention dominated the headlines in our paper and elsewhere, and was positively received on all sides of our divided society without any indication that republicans were as yet ready to take the next step. The Assembly, not for the last time, duly placed its functions on hold.
However, a debate which was already under way was able to proceed in an increasingly favourable climate, and, within 18 months, the IRA announced that it had accepted a method for destroying its arsenal with General de Chastelain, thereby transforming the political climate.
Dr Hegarty remained in his post until 2011, when, after facing criticism over his handling of clerical abuse cases, in common with a number of his contemporaries, he retired after suffering what was described as an "irreversible and progressive" illness.
He died last Friday at the age of 79, and, after Requiem Mass yesterday, was buried in the grounds of St Eugene's Cathedral, close to the office where we talked almost two decades ago.
Others can judge his wider record but the bishop I encountered in unusual circumstances on a cold Derry morning was a thoughtful and measured individual who was determined to make his own contribution towards the search for progress in Ireland.
