He was described as a down-to-earth soul, the son of organic farmers, his sights pointed upward, to a destiny far above the horizons that encircled his tiny hometown of Capay.

When the crop-dusters roared from above, Che Barnes raced to the balcony of his family home, his gaze alight with wonderment as the plane flew over fields. He would record the sound of the machine in flight so he could replay it again and again, recalled his twin brother, Noah.

"From the very beginning, he loved planes. From the very beginning, his path was chosen for him," the brother said on a Saturday afternoon filled with remembrance and anxiety, as family and friends awaited word on the search for the missing Coast Guard crew that presumably perished near San Diego.

Che Barnes, 35, was the commander of the Sacramento-based C-130 Hercules rescue plane that apparently collided in midair with a Marine Corps helicopter during a rescue mission that went awry.

As a boy, he did his chores on the family farm along Highway 16 west of Woodland – picking turnips, moving irrigation pipes, everything to tend the family's growing business, a pioneering venture of the area's organic farming industry.

"He didn't complain. He just did the work," said another brother, Freeman Barsotti, 26, who uses their mother's maiden name.

As a teen, Che Barnes squirreled away his small paychecks to save up the $70 he needed every week to pay for flight lessons.

For his 16th birthday, his gift was his first solo flight.

He wanted to be a fighter pilot, but was disappointed when his vision was not good enough. His love for flying prompted him to pursue other opportunities.

He enrolled in the Coast Guard Academy, majoring in electrical engineering.

"This Coast Guard job was the best thing for him," said another brother, Thaddeus Barsotti, 29.

Added Noah Barnes: "He was not a farmer, really. … He was meant to do something else."

He took pride in his job and in the often-harrowing missions he flew.

Barnes often regaled family and members of the Northern California Aerobatic Club, to which he belonged, with stories about his rescue missions, said friend Cory Lovell.

"He was flying helicopters, but he thought they were too dangerous because they flew in the fog and were so close to the coast," Lovell said. "So he switched to C-130s."

Earlier this year, Barnes was the pilot in command of a rescue mission that saved the life of a doctor whose plane went down in Half Moon Bay. "This crew performed flawlessly and saved a life!" said an e-mail from a commanding officer that Barnes forwarded to family and friends.

"He would tell us stories that would give us goose bumps," said Thaddeus Barsotti. He called his older brother a hero.

Barnes had a soft spot for helping children. He was a Big Brother, once renting a Cessna to give his "little brother" a bird's-eye view of San Francisco. He spent countless hours contributing to a blog hosted by an 8-year-old airplane bluff.

He met his girlfriend, Carrie Reynolds, three years ago at a fundraiser in San Francisco to benefit emancipated youths bound for college.

She sought his soothing voice on Thursday, hours before his fateful flight. He calmed her jitters over a new job and her impending move to Sacramento to be closer to him.

Thaddeus talked with him later that day to make plans to share dinner and to talk about redoing a fence at his brother's Davis home.

On Saturday, friends and family accepted the grim fate, instead reminiscing and sharing stories.

Noah Barnes recounted how his twin brother rescued him from his wife's scorn when Noah lost his ill-fitting wedding band in a raging canal behind the family home.

Che Barnes, swimming goggles in place, tied himself to a pickup parked along the canal and dived into the 10-foot flow of water, muddy and fierce. He raked the silty bottom for the ring, emerging from the water about a half-hour later with his mission accomplished.

Call The Bee's Bobby Caina Calvan, (916) 321-1067. Staff writers Cynthia Hubert and Robert Dávila and researcher Jason Coughran contributed to this report.