The Foreign Service Journal, January 2009

holding up their unit flags, juxtaposed with the young, impeccably uni- formed honor guard, and the crisp salute of the American naval officer as he presented the flag, is an image I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life. Yes, there were tears on the part of Richard and DeEtta Hensley, but what made the biggest impression on all in attendance were their humble nods and sincere words of gratitude to the participants. It was obvious they knew, as we all did that day, that we were a small part of something very, very big, and the greatest honor was to those not there. When Yves pulled out the watch and explained to the crowd what it was, a hush fell. As he pressed it into the American’s hands, the only sounds were Richard’s sobs, followed by the swelling applause and cheers of the on- lookers. Everyone gathered around for a look at the watch, shaking hands with the Hensleys, and the locals slapped Yves on the back. As we all walked toward the village hall and some well-deserved food and drink, the old mayor of Bannelac spot- ted me and came over to talk. He was around at the time of the crash and knew Yves Carnot and his story well. He politely asked me why I was there and what my relation to the Black Swan was. I started to try and explain my work at the embassy, how I found the letter, and how the Foreign Service Journal had made it possible for Rich- ard and DeEtta to find their father. But I could see by the look on his face that he wasn’t following the many strange coincidences and twists of fate that brought me to his village. So I stopped and looked back at the marble memorial stones bearing the names of Richard Hensley and Stuart Mendelsohn, under the gently waving American and French flags. “I’m just a friend of Yves,” I finally said, and we walked on together down the muddy track between the Brittany hedgerows. J A N U A R Y 2 0 0 9 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 53