Richard Duane Hutchinson

RICHARD D. HUTCHINSON

Richard Duane “Hutch” Hutchinson, 91, passed way at home on August 20, 2026, in DuPont, WA. Born in Estherville, IA, on August 3, 1935, to Ed and Gladys, he grew up on a farm in Terrill, Iowa. After graduating from Spirit Lake High School in 1953, he headed to the University of Iowa, where he was smitten by a statuesque young lady with a beautiful smile. Her name was Janet Bauman. Her scrapbook is suggestive of, let’s say, partying 1950s style. However, Janet dumped him during a spat. She then went out with “Glen.” Poor Glen was an “AWFUL dancer and we fought all night,” she wrote in her scrapbook. Two days later she “went back to Hutch,” and Hutch didn’t let go. (The most surprising revelation: We had no idea he could dance!) They married in Spirit Lake, on September 8, 1957, destined to be together for 51 years. He graduated with a degree in electrical engineering, and in 1959 joined the Air Force. Their son Steven was born, followed by Linda, Cindy, and Phil.

Together, Mom and Dad made for a resilient couple, a hallmark of military families. Long-awaited homecomings were special to us. Dad was sometimes on missions for weeks and weeks, so time with him was precious. We know it was hard on him to be away from the family, as it was hard on Mom and us kids, but we also know that the reason he was absent was important. He was serving his country.

We remember many birthday parties being held in the “alert shack” on base because that’s where Dad was: on alert status, ready to fly. When he came home from missions, we awaited whatever foreign surprises might be in his flight bag. He then would grab a cold Hamms from the fridge. During the Cuban Missile Crisis, he was on DEFCON 2 as the nation faced the threat of Russian attack. This was the Cold War era. During the Vietnam War (330th Bombardment Squadron), he was credited with 83 B-52 combat missions as a navigator. He then became an electronic warfare officer, flying on RC-135s and gathering intelligence on the enemy. A major portion of his career was in the 55th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing, including two stints at the Strategic Air Command at Offutt near Omaha, NE. Dad’s most beloved assignment was the 7113th Special Activities Squadron at Lindsey Air Station in Wiesbaden, Germany, from 1977–1982, where, as a lieutenant colonel, he became squad commander. The unit reported directly to the Air Force Europe Intelligence Directorate, which explains those foreign accents at parties Mom and Dad hosted at our house. After a 25-year career, he retired in 1985.

During all the family’s stops—Mississippi, Florida, Oklahoma, Texas, California, Alaska, Nebraska, Germany, then back to Nebraska—he was a steady, reliable, quiet father, and, above all, patient. We have memories of him helping us with math and chemistry problems, stamp and coin collections, Heath kits, gin rummy, soap box derby cars, shorted-out hair dryers (which, like other things that needed repair, sat on his fix-it bench for days), and infamous driving lessons on manual-shift cars. He helped Phil with building an early home computer called the ZX-81. And he pulled a big surprise by detailing the Volvo for Phil and his date on prom night. Steve cherishes memories of Dad taking him on a fishing trip on the slough in North Pole, Alaska and a Christmas surprise of a complete photo darkroom setup. Dad explained barometric pressure over and over to Cindy when he set up her weather station. We can see him tending the grill on a summer night, drinking a beer and smoking his pipe; making ice cream in the aqua-colored electric bucket; cooking our famous trout catches over a campfire in Canada; dropping ice cubes on the kitchen floor intended for his tumbler of gin (we can hear that sound now); and, later in life, changing oil in our cars and telling us to never run a debt on credit cards. For Linda, special times were when Dad and Mom traveled to Tempe, AZ, to spend the holidays with her family. The loss of Linda in 2018 was very hard for him.

Some of our best childhood memories revolve around the truck camper, which Dad and Mom bought used in Fairbanks so we could drive to our new station in Nebraska in 1971. With Dad at the wheel, we bounced, and creaked down an extremely dusty Alaska Highway at a time when it was entirely gravel (these perhaps were not Mom’s favorite memories). Trips in the truck camper to see Grandma and Grandpa Hutch in Spirit Lake, our cousins in Pullman, WA, and to Minnesota lakes were happy times in the 1970s. The camper had an 8-track cassette player. We listened to Janis Joplin, Otis Redding, Glen Campbell, Hank Williams, and Johnny Cash. Those artists remain among our favorites today. We now wonder, who picked Janis?! Mom or Dad? (Neither would be readily identified with counterculture, ever.)

Although Dad retired in 1985, they waited to leave Nebraska until Phil, the “baby,” was done with school and the nest blissfully empty. They chose Puyallup, WA, as their new home in 1991, and thrived there. Dad helped care for Grandma Bauman in her last years, and he was the only one she trusted to balance her checkbook and do her taxes. In fact, Dad went on to become a volunteer AARP tax aide and site coordinator for more than 20 years. And then he took care of Mom. He was by her side until her passing in 2008.

Known to many as Hutch, he will forever be Papa Hutch to his four grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. In his last years, he enjoyed watching images of them rotate on his digital photo display. For his 90th birthday family celebration in 2025, his three grandsons traveled long distances to be with him on that special sunny day in DuPont. Papa Hutch sipped gin while taking in the laughter and conversation. Tears were visible in his eyes. The family raised a toast to him with the infamous World War II bottle of “Rommel’s liquor,” which he finally let us open.

He stayed in the house on Manorwood Drive in Puyallup until 2014, when he moved to a retirement center in DuPont. He had good health and mobility until just the last months of his life. Even then he was stoic. “Dad, do you feel any pain?” “NO! I feel fine!”

He was a man of few words. He let his actions do the talking, and he was there when we, and his country, needed him.

Richard is predeceased by his wife, Janet, and daughter Linda Whyte (Kenny). He is survived by his son Steven (Cindy D.), Omaha, NE; daughter Cindy, Olympia, WA; son Phil, Redmond, WA; grandchildren, Ryan (Alissa), Sioux Falls, SD, Kelsey Henline (Matt), Steamboat Springs, CO, Rutger Whyte, Tempe, AZ, and Alex Whyte, Tempe, AZ; his sister, Janet Hiller, Pullman, WA; and three great-grandchildren, Harper, Cooper, and Bodhi, Sioux Falls, SD. Dad will be reunited with Mom in a private family gathering at Tahoma National Cemetery.