A Tribute to a Local Hero

Celebrating the life of Airman First Class Eric Michael Barnes

His memory honored by Brandon J. Wysocki

We have no shortage of military heroes in Lorain—you're liable to see the names of such persons on signs and schools throughout the city. In the case of Airman First Class Eric Barnes, I was fortunate enough to know him before he was a local hero; before he enlisted—before he gave his life serving our country.

Not yet knowing who he was, Eric caught my attention as he drove his moped down my street to what turned out to be our mutual friends' house. He ultimately stood at 6- foot-five and must have been close to that and about 15 years old at the time.

The moped was worse for the wear, including a wire hanger to hold the kickstand up. It was the antithesis of its young, robust owner; however, Eric wanted it.

Being resolute, he worked for it, saved for it, and eventually got it. It was a memorable first encounter with a person I instantly realized exuded energy and passion manifested through zestfulness in wild—and wildly different—ways.

You were just as likely to see him doing something reckless as you were to see him helping a neighbor in the community. Sometimes, it could be a mix of both.

An example of that might be a story his father, Tom (a Navy veteran), shared with me about a time he and Eric were driving around, posting flyers for a food drive:

They had run out of flyers and were at a stop when Eric suddenly sprang from the car and ran to a vehicle he could see a few blocks away. Eric recognized the other vehicle filled with another group also posting flyers for the food drive. He startled the mother driving but also managed to secure more handouts. Of course, his dad could have driven them over to her vehicle, but that wasn't Eric's style. His energy, eagerness, and enthusiasm to help were difficult to contain.

Sure, sometimes that resulted in some ill-advised and perhaps even slightly illegal activities, like swimming out to buoys at our lakeside marina after dark, inexplicably dropping me to the ground with a well-placed airsoft pistol shot to my spine as I attempted to flee from him, or like when he and his brother Dale went sledding from their kitchen to their front porch and down the stairs to their front yard—when their parents weren't around, of course! Then, there were times Eric would occasionally blurt out some of his favorite lines in movies just before they were spoken on screen.

In fact, it's unclear just how lawful that aforementioned moped trip across the bridge and to my neighborhood was. But, looking back, I'm sure glad Eric made that trip.

As a longtime Scout, Eric gained great experiences helping others. Although he was initially uneasy about it, he decided to camp at the Scouts ranch in Michigan, where he camped under the stars and learned to tend to horses. After that first visit, Eric returned two more times.

Camping in South Padre, Texas, whitewater rafting in Virginia, and embarking on a fifty-mile canoe trip in Canada also made Eric's list. Impressively, he fundraised most of the money for himself for all of his Scouting adventures.

Eric also cared deeply for others. It was this same disposition that led him to do the great, kind, caring, and— sometimes—somewhat safer things in his life.

After learning of the need through family friends at his church, Eric built a handicap ramp at the Murray Ridge Center for his Eagle Scout Service Project.

Eventually, after he enlisted and before leaving for boot camp, he let his hair grow out to donate to Locks of Love.

Eric even demonstrated how good he was with kids, just as he often had in Scouts—including babysitting his major's six children! He was so good with the major's kids that his parents received a call telling them how actively impressed he was with the way Eric was interacting with his children.

Impressed as they were, it is worth noting that there also is a story of Eric encouraging and teaching a two-year-old to be self-sufficient and make his own chocolate milk—that subsequently resulted in quite a mess.

When the child's parents asked their son why he had attempted to make chocolate milk by himself, his response was, "Because Barnes taught me how."

During his time stationed at F.E. Warren Air Force Base in Wyoming and inspired by his love of John Deere, Eric spray-painted his old GMC pickup truck a John Deereesque shade of green complete with two yellow stripes. Oddly and unexplainably nicknamed "The General Wayland," that truck served as a vehicle for some adventurous activities out west. But one day, he hit a tree and totaled it.

Eric ended up in the emergency room but only ever discussed being upset about losing the truck. His mother, Shary, didn't actually learn about the emergency room visit until going through his things after he passed away.

During his first tour in Iraq, he had related to his parents how much he felt the people there—especially the children—needed help.

He believed in the mission so deeply that, although he had extended his time with the Air Force in hopes of being stationed in Alaska, he gave up that potential station and instead insisted on returning to Iraq for a second tour. His major was reluctant to facilitate Eric's return to Iraq, instructing him to take three days to reconsider. But even though his Wyoming group toured together previously, ultimately, he was the only one to do so this time.

During that second tour, on June 10, 2007, approximately one hundred miles south of Baghdad, his convoy was attacked with an improvised explosive device.

Eric died from his injuries while en route to a medical facility in the Green Zone.

Throughout so much of his life, you see a pattern of his love for adventure and his uncompromising determination and desire to help others. He had first discussed enlisting when he was in seventh grade. It's no surprise that, like getting his moped, even with our country at war in Iraq, he still joined the Air Force.

In fact, he told a friend that rather than deterring him, the war made him want to help and serve that much more.

There are countless stories his friends, family, and fellow service members could share about Eric. Ultimately, my final memory of him is his funeral procession.

Following behind his family, I exited the doors of Admiral King High School, where more than one thousand people had come to pay their final respects to him and his sacrifice. I beheld a crowd in the parking lot and around West 26th Street, standing and waiting to show even more respect and support. It was unexpected but wonderful.

The procession drove down the small stretch of West 26th Street before turning right onto Oberlin Avenue. And, like the lanky kid that I first saw ride past me on his moped, I will never forget what I saw when my vehicle turned: thousands of people lined the stretch of Oberlin Avenue to North Ridge Road to show their appreciation and respect for this man I am grateful to have known.

It's fortunate I wasn't driving because the indescribably moving display brought me to tears. Even now—almost fourteen years later—it's hard for me to reflect on that, let alone speak about it, without giving way to tears.

Cruising down the road on his moped and having his life and sacrifice honored by thousands serves as perfect bookends for the man I had the privilege of having as a friend.

But Airman First Class Eric Barnes was so much more than that. Truthfully, Eric Barnes is still so much more than that.

His death has resulted in many things and does not mark the end of his influence or presence in our lives or the world. Eric Barnes' Heroes Walk is a part of Settler's Watch at Oberlin Avenue and Second Street. There is the honorary designation of the street where he grew up, now referred to as Eric Barnes Avenue. Barnes Loop on F.E. Warren Air Force Base and Barnes Road on Ali Al Salem Air Base in Kuwait are also named in honor of him.

His service and sacrifice inspired a longtime friend to enlist himself, and that friend still serves in the Air Force today. That same friend even met his wife through the military.

There is something beautiful, albeit bittersweet, to see how the community united and rallied around his grief-stricken family, just as it is to reflect on the bonds borne from his death.

It is how an ever-growing group gathered for a cookout on June 10 in honor of his life, or how a small group celebrated his birthday out on the waters of Lake Erie—a place he loved to be—or even just sharing a meal and memories together with one another.

It brings some solace to consider how his spirit and actions continue to echo and inspire. Eric remains deep in the hearts and minds of his family and friends who miss him dearly and constantly strive to preserve the memory of him. Indeed, Eric lives on through us.

That said, it's hard to capture the essence of anyone with words alone; Eric, abundant with gusto in everything he did, is no exception.

Similarly, nothing can replace a lost loved one. Remembering that Eric was only 20 when he was killed in Iraq, it's only reasonable that his mother said she wonders if he'd be married or have kids by now. Wondering where he'd be and what he'd be doing, in general, is what his mother thinks most about when she thinks of her son.

Eric did so many wonderful things in his 20 years. It feels like a gross oversimplification to say that he gave his life for our country—he gave his bright and boundless future.

Those somber contemplations aside, I have no doubt that if he were here today, he'd be raring to continue serving and helping his country, family, friends, community, and the world at large—because that is Airman First Class Eric Michael Barnes.