Soft-spoken and tender-hearted, Colonel Thomas C. Hutchings, USANG, Retired was a man like none other. Last week, Oct. 2, we suddenly lost this Wyoming treasure.
In my mind, he was always “the Colonel.” But he insisted that I call him Tom. He made Wyoming his home when he retired about 15 years ago. Cheyenne became his adopted hometown because his bride, Lynn, grew up here. He was a natural fit.
A few years after settling in, Lynn was elected to the Wyoming House and, later, to Senate District 5, where she still serves. That made her a public figure. But Tom preferred privacy. He went about his days in the methodical manner of a serious pilot.
The same quiet competence that made him an Air Force operations group commander and a senior inquiry officer at the Pentagon brought him to the attention of his church and community. Though he shrank from the public square, he didn’t refuse to serve. That’s what brought him to serve in a variety of community, military, and church positions.
I would never have met Tom, except through Lynn’s gracious friendship. When my son was barely old enough to drive, Tom gave him the thrill of piloting his Czech SportCruiser. He prepared meticulous breakfasts during long and thoughtful conversations. And he always made extra eggs for Todd Daniel. (Note: Always use both names when referring to his dog and inseparable companion.)
During one long conversation, I discovered that his tour of duty at the Pentagon began just prior to 9-11. So, I asked him about his experiences that day.
There’s a balcony, Tom said, on the inner ring of the Pentagon. When he felt the building shudder, he headed that way. As soon as he stepped into the open air, he knew.
“It smelled like an airplane crash,” he said.
Tom briefly described how he and his colleagues tried to help the wounded. He talked about the difficulty of contacting his wife, and about navigating his way home through the chaos. But I don’t remember much of what he said.
My mind froze when he said, “It smelled like an airplane crash.” How many people know what an airplane crash smells like? I waited for him to finish because the better part of wisdom is never to interrupt someone like Tom.
Then I blurted out: “How do you know what an airplane crash smells like?”
“Because I survived one,” he answered.
On Sept. 20, 1989, Hutchings with his crew of seven, had just landed their KC-135 Stratotanker after a refueling mission out of Eielson AFB, Alaska. While they were going through the shutdown procedures, an overheated fuel pump touched off an explosion that incinerated the plane.
Five of the crew escaped before the flames reached them. But the boom operators—a man and woman—perished. This would not be the last time God spared his life.
Cowboy State Daily readers might remember last summer’s headline, “Miracle On I-25: Cheyenne Man Doesn't Know Who Saved His Life After Crash.” That was Tom.
After eight minutes of respiratory arrest, two men extracted him from his car, administered CPR, and disappeared. To the doctors’ amazement, he suffered no brain damage. Later, he found his rescuers to give them his heartfelt thanks.
After last summer’s excitement, Tom had a renewed sense of purpose. Simply too many miracles had aligned to keep him alive. He dove back into his passions: Trail Life and Jesus.
Trail Life is a Christian youth organization dedicated to guiding “generations of courageous young men to honor God, lead with integrity, serve others, and experience outdoor adventure.” As ministry liaison for Troop Wy 0316, Tom—a retired full bird colonel—would hike and sleep on the hard ground to pass his ethic of humble service to the next generation.
Because, above all, Tom loved Jesus. His deep and genuine humility was not a show. It comes naturally to a man who lives in the presence of his Creator and Rescuer. It was his unshakable faith in Christ Jesus that put the wind beneath his wings.
As the perceptive man that Tom was, he knew before others that he would soon take flight. As the meticulous aviator that Tom was, he left instructions for that day.
His distinguished military career entitled him to sleep in the uniform of an Air Force colonel. But Tom gave orders to be buried in his Trail Life uniform. And so he sleeps today.
I give thanks for Tom’s gifts spread generously in Wyoming. His quiet and loving voice still echoes in the minds of those whose lives he touched. And the world is better for it. If you are inclined to honor the memory of Tom, he asked that, in lieu of flowers, donations be made to his final loyalty, Trail Life.
Jonathan Lange is a Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod pastor in Evanston and Kemmerer and serves the Wyoming Pastors Network. Follow his blog at https://jonathanlange.substack.com/. Email: JLange64@protonmail.com.
