Chapter 2: The Man Who Was Erased
Part 2 ⬇️
I found B.
Kaminsky in less than an hour.
He lived in Macon.
Retired.
Eighty-one years old.
His daughter answered the phone.
When I told her why I was calling, she went quiet for a moment.
Then she said, "Hold on.
He's going to want to take this himself."
Bernard Kaminsky had known Mack.
They had trained together, shipped together, and stood on that runway at Point Salines on the same October morning in 1983.
He had never seen the photograph.
When I described it, he made a sound I won't forget.
"That's the one Mack took with his little camera," he said.
"Right before we boarded.
I've been looking for a copy of that picture for forty years."
I told him what G had done.
The interview.
The caption.
*Photo courtesy of the Bixler family.*
Bernard didn't raise his voice.
He just said, "Who is G.
Bixler?"
"Nobody who was there," I said.
There was a long pause.
Then: "What do you need from me?"
I told him I needed one thing.
His discharge papers.
His service record.
Anything official that placed him at Point Salines in October 1983.
He said he'd have his daughter scan everything by morning.
"I'm sorry it took forty years for someone to call," I told him.
"You called," he said.
"That's enough."
I hung up and sat with Mack's photograph in my lap.
The Christmas parade was in nine days.
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What happened when those documents arrived — and what she did with them — left the entire town of Barnesville speechless.
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