Sometimes the hunt is the most fun part.
That actually comes across as a little crude, but the point is, finding a person can be as enjoyable as sitting down and talking to them.
We’ve had some occasional stories about Wells County natives who have gone on to successful military careers and experiences. When Mike Stohler was promoted to general a couple years ago (already!), there was some speculation as to whether there had been any others. The name of Charles Barnes surfaced relatively early, but my efforts to find any information on him went nowhere.
The good news was that when you asked Mrs. Google for “Charles Barnes Bluffton Indiana” or variations of that, no obituaries popped up. Someone then shared they thought he was once the commander of the same outfit Stohler had led, the 122nd Fighter Wing in Fort Wayne. An email sent to the unit’s public information officer got no response. An internet search adding that information got a birthday, which turned out to be correct, and a one-sentence bio: “Charles Barnes spent 64 years and 5 months in the Indiana Air National Guard and retired with the rank of Brigadier General.” While the rank was correct, the years of service, which calculates that he would have retired just five years ago at the age of 83, was not.
After a long dry spell of no new leads, another conversation revealed that Gen. Barnes had grown up in Petroleum, and then a few weeks later that he might be related to Chip Mann’s wife. It took me a few weeks to find a mutual acquaintance who had Chip’s contact information. An added twist: Chip has a “gmail.com” address with which “news-banner.com” addresses seem to have a communication problem. But, glory be, Chip answered promptly that Mr. Barnes is indeed his uncle (his mother’s brother) and he would pass the message along.
I need to mention that, having served in the Army, I have this image of a general: Tall, ramrod straight. Gruff, all business. Imposing. Intimidating. I wasn’t sure how I would handle interviewing a retired, presumably crusty general.
I had given Chip my cell phone number. It rang a couple days later with an unfamiliar number displayed. As usual, it went unanswered but I quickly listened to the message that had been left.
“Hi, this is Charlie Barnes. Understand you’re trying to get a hold of me. Call me back.”
Charlie? A general calls himself Charlie? And it was a friendly voice. Perhaps because he turned out to be a very friendly person, blowing my stereotype out of the water.
The “hunt” had lasted, I think, well over a year. What fun to call him back, discover he lives in Fort Wayne and arrange a meeting — one which stretched out to well over a couple hours. That was fun, I hope as displayed in Friday’s Veterans Day salute to one of Wells County’s offspring that “done good.” But finding him was fun, too.
Two additional notes on his crash and safe ejection over his home territory:
— I don’t know a whole lot about flying, but it strikes me that Charlie never got proper credit for his pilot skills. He managed to aim a disabled plane away from Montpelier and towards an open field. And then had the presence of mind to remember his training and “roll on the wing” in order to improve his odds for surviving the ejection, all the while maintaining the plane’s direction towards that open field.
— How many people from Wells County can say they’ve seen their name on the front page of the New York Times?
After hearing his story about his crash near Fiat, it occurred to me that I would find those clippings in some too-often-forgotten files at the N-B. During the 1960s, ‘70s and into the ‘80s, Gene McCord had faithfully taken each day’s edition, clipped out stories and pictures and filed them away. Sure enough, there was an envelope with “Barnes, Charles” typed in the upper left corner. It included clippings of his promotion to general, his retirement announcement, and two stories about the crash. A gold mine.
And then Friday morning, one of our newer part-time employees told me that he has a number of photos from Charlie’s career. Turns out Steve Poulson was the 122nd Wing’s staff photographer for about 20 years.
“He’s a great guy,” Steve shared. “A great sense of humor.” Although he did not know Charlie’s whereabouts now, “I could have found out,” he said.
There is likely some kind of analogy or lesson here. I’d been looking for my “prey” for a number of months. The information about him was in the same building and he was living only a half-hour or so away.
Life can be like that.
miller@news-banner.com
