CONTRIBUTED PHOTO Former T-R writer and editor Rob Merritt, left, is pictured with the late director and actor Rob Reiner, right, in 2004.

I have a story about Rob Reiner. But it doesn’t take place in L.A. or on a movie set.

It was here in Iowa.

In 2004, I was working as a writer and editor for the Times-Republican in Marshalltown. It was my first job out of college, and definitely not the kind of job where you expect to cross paths with celebrities.

But here’s the funny thing about Iowa. During an election year, a lot of big names suddenly turn up in this state for campaigning. You get access to people who you wouldn’t normally see.

Howard Dean was running for the Democratic nomination for President, and his campaign announced that actor and movie director Rob Reiner was doing a series of stops in Iowa to show his support. One of those stops was in Marshalltown.

I didn’t particularly care one way or the other about Howard Dean. But Rob Reiner? Definitely intrigued, and determined to cover it. I loved Mr. Reiner’s movies, from “The Princess Bride” to “When Harry Met Sally” to “A Few Good Men.” In fact, I had just been cast in the Tom Cruise role in Marshalltown Community Theatre’s production of “A Few Good Men.” Still, I doubted that would mean anything to Mr. Reiner. I was expecting a Hollywood director who would give us his schtick and move on.

But that was not who we got. At all.

Mr. Reiner came in with no entourage, other than one guy who was driving him around. He gave a speech to the gathered supporters of Howard Dean, shook hands, signed autographs, did his job. I photographed all of it for the news.

But then he sat down for an interview. And you know what? He was just cool. Not the least bit “above it,” or acting like he was doing us a big favor by taking time to give an interview to a small town newspaper. He was generous. Answered every question thoughtfully. Spoke passionately, but also very matter of fact.

And he asked questions back. He wanted people to support his candidate, sure. But it was more than that. He seemed to want to engage people. Hear what they thought. Bounce ideas around. And so we did.

We finished up the interview. Most of the people who had come to see him were long gone. My colleague from the paper took off. It was shortly before noon, and Mr. Reiner turned to me.

“Hey, where is a good place to get lunch? Somebody mentioned Maid Rite.”

“Yeah, Taylor’s Maid Rite,” I said. “It’s downtown.”

“Well, let’s go there,” he said.

Mr. Reiner’s job was done. He was under zero obligation to spend any more time with me. Yet here he was, inviting me — this 20something Iowa kid he’d just met — to join him for lunch. At Taylor’s Maid Rite, of all places.

So of course I went. I sat on a stool at the counter, just him and me and his one driver/handler from the Howard Dean campaign. And we just … talked.

At first he wanted to know about my job as a writer. After asking more questions, he got out of me that I had written a book about the Columbine High School shootings. And oh, man, he had a lot of questions about that. Our sandwiches arrived and he was quite pleased that they lived up to the hype from that morning.

Eventually, I brought up that I was going to be playing the Tom Cruise role in “A Few Good Men” onstage in just a few months. I didn’t expect anything more than a nod and maybe some good wishes, but Mr. Reiner seemed genuinely excited for me. He started telling stories about Tom Cruise on set. How young and committed Cruise was to that role. How much fun Reiner had directing him, and about how wild it was to direct the big confrontation between Cruise and Jack Nicholson. He started giving me tips on things in that character to explore, to play with.

It was just so frickin’ cool.

And it wasn’t just me that Rob Reiner treated this way. A few folks in the restaurant recognized him, and said hello, and he was extremely gracious and struck up conversation with them as well. Funny enough, I don’t think he got a single autograph request at that Maid Rite. Everyone was just chatting with him like he was one of them.

Eventually, his driver let Mr. Reiner know that they had to get back on the road. He was going to meet up with Martin Sheen for a similar campaign event in Cedar Rapids. Reiner shook my hand, thanked me for joining him, and wished us the best on our production of “A Few Good Men.” And then he headed off.

Now, I can’t claim to say I know the guy based on that one interaction 20-some years ago. But from all the stories I have read about him in the past several days, it sounds like he treated me the same way he treated … everyone.

I saw a video by Kevin Bacon, who recounted working with Reiner on “A Few Good Men.” And at one point Bacon said “You know, we got to have lunch together every day. I never got to do that with a director before. Or since. I’d never gone to have lunch.” Bacon looked like he was close to tears as he recalled it.

The world lost a great artist and director in Rob Reiner. It lost a genuinely great human being, too. And a darned good lunch companion.

Thanks for the Maid Rite and the conversation, Mr. Reiner. I really wish we could do it again.

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Rob Merritt worked at the T-R as a writer and editor from 1998 to 2004. He currently resides in Cedar Rapids.