'Ah, Patrick, me boy" in an Irish brogue was the greeting I'd get when Leslie Nielsen and I talked on the phone. Talking would lead to laughter. Lots of laughter. The first thing I thought of when I got the news about Leslie's passing last Sunday was the sound of his great laugh.

And what a gentleman. Kind. Considerate. And wonderfully silly. Leslie was a man having the time of his life. His beautiful wife, Barbaree, a constant at his side. And the love of every human who said hello. What a great life he led. Knowing that eases the pang of missing Leslie.

He was the easiest person in the world to be around. Not one ounce of "Hey, I'm a star" attitude. Leslie cared about you. He would do anything to make a problem turn out for the better. My dog was hit by a car. Leslie donated his own kidney so that dog would live. OK, that's a lie. But it's something Leslie's Lt. Frank Drebin would have done.

I'm crazy about Lt. Frank Drebin. He wouldn't have worked if Leslie weren't one of the kings of physical humor. Sincere, dedicated, clueless, lovable, Drebin had an awkward grace. Leslie knew what was right for the iconic character he helped create.

I was directing a scene in "Wrongfully Accused" where Leslie's character is entangled in wires and is plummeting to the floor 200 feet below. The stuntman did the scene. He flailed his arms around, giving the impression of being frightened. Leslie took me aside and said to do it again. He was right. Leslie's character would have no idea he was in danger until the floor came up to hit him in the face.

To me, Frank Drebin was Humphrey Bogart. It's Bogart's voice I'd hear when writing a line like: "I like my sex the way I like my basketball. One on one. And with as little dribbling as possible." And, "Don't move. I got a gun. Not here. But I got one."

Leslie didn't do Bogart, he did Frank Drebin. A tough guy when he had to be, spouting those noir cop lines. Or the big doofus in love: "I've finally found someone I could love ... a good, clean love ... without utensils." As tough as Leslie's Drebin could be, he was just as gooey and sappy in the inside. And always believable.

My favorite Leslie "Naked Gun" moments:

• Lt. Frank Drebin impersonates a baseball umpire. He has no idea if it's a ball or strike. We have a long pause, then, "Strike?" Huge roar from the stadium crowd. And then a great look from Leslie that said, "I'm right? Whoa. They all cheered for me. I'm so totally into this." Now he can't wait to call another strike. Nobody else could have done that scene and gotten the laughs he got. All with that wonderful expressive mug of his.

• In "Naked Gun 2 1/2," here come George and Barbara Bush down a White House hall heading for a dinner party. A door flings open and hits Barbara in the face. And it's Lt. Frank Drebin. Leslie looking great in a tux. A confident stride. Unaware of the damage he's done to the First Lady. Leslie looked as good as James Bond, which helped sell the entrance.

Leslie admired Clarence Darrow, the 1920s lawyer and one of the guiding hands behind the American Civil Liberties Union, so he took a one-man show on the road. Leslie Nielsen as Clarence Darrow? I was certain everyone would come to laugh at Frank Drebin. In the first couple minutes they did, he said. But then they didn't see Drebin. They saw Darrow. Leslie was a damn good actor. Using that acting ability and fusing it with his wonderful feel for comedy made me as a writer extremely happy. At the premiere of "Naked Gun" I've never heard such big, long, sustained laughs. You just knew you had comedy gold.

By the way, why Leslie never won a Golden Globe for his work in the three "Naked Gun" movies always mystified me. There, I said it. I will now move on.

David and Jerry Zucker, Jim Abrahams, myself and Leslie came together at the right time. I'm very proud of the "Gun" films, and the four others I did with Leslie. I'm so pleased I contributed in making such a wonderful person as Leslie Nielsen a comedy star.

I wrote a line for Frank Drebin as he retires from the force: "This isn't goodbye. It's just that I'll never see you again." Leslie will never not be here. Frank Drebin will live on. Not just in the U.S.A. But around the world. And in my head.

The setting is the airport. I'm being clumsily fondled by a TSA agent. I look down. There's that white hair. The agent looks up. It's Frank Drebin. He gives a "I know what I'm doing, I'm undercover" look. How could you not smile?

As for Leslie Nielsen the friend ... my dear Leslie, you'll always be in my heart.

Cue the "Naked Gun" theme.