A Hostage To Uncertainty Jane Schelly Returns To Kashmir On Second Anniversary Of Husband’s Kidnapping

Jane Schelly lives in two worlds.

In one, she’s a popular physical education teacher at a north Spokane grade school. She has a cedar-sided home with a manicured lawn in the Spokane Valley and a network of supportive friends.

In the other, she’s an unlucky victim of political conflicts in the Himalayas. She searches for clues about shadowy terrorists, meets with world leaders and travels through Kashmir.

For two years, she has moved between these worlds - riding the roller-coaster, she calls it - hoping to solve the riddle that controls her life.

What happened to her husband, Donald Hutchings, after he was kidnapped two years ago in Kashmir?

Earlier this month, the 42-year-old teacher dismissed her last PE class of the year at Arlington Elementary. She turned her Northwood home over to a housesitter and left Spokane for that other world.

She returned to India, seeking an end to her ordeal.

If her husband is alive, what will it take to free him? If not, how did he die and where are his remains?

Schelly will search for people who may have seen her husband as he was moved through the countryside under armed guard. She will talk to villagers, stand outside town mosques and appeal to Muslim clerics.

“I realize I may never get an answer,” she said before leaving Spokane. “But at least I will have to acknowledge I’ve been there, seen the people and looked in their eyes. Then I’ll know I’ve done everything I could.”

Gunmen in the night

The gunmen came out of the hills at dinnertime. There were a dozen or so, mostly in their late teens and early 20s, with automatic rifles.

Seeing armed men in the Kashmiri countryside was rare, but Jane Schelly and Donald Hutchings did not think they were in danger.

They were camped with their guide and pony handler in a large meadow dotted with trekkers - tourists who spend their days traversing the Himalayan foothills.

Most of the gunmen spread throughout the meadow while two of them told Schelly and Hutchings through their guide to sit down, show their passports and wait.

Soon, they were joined by a handful of other Western and Japanese tourists, including American John Childs and four British hikers - Keith and Julie Mangan, Paul Wells and Catherine Moseley.

Go into your tent and put on your warm clothing, Hutchings was ordered. The British and American men must come to a nearby village, to talk with the commander.

“The guides thought robbery,” Schelly recalled.

In the tent, Hutchings took off his money belt, wrapped it in a blanket and handed it to his wife. She hid it under her sweat shirt.

About 8 that night, most of the tourists were moved to another campsite while the American and British men were forced to stay behind. Two hours later, when Schelly, Julie Mangan and Moseley returned to the first camp, the men and one of the guides were gone.

Other guides said they’d been ordered to lie face down on the ground and pull their caps over their heads. The tents were ransacked.

But the gunmen had told the guides that the men would be released from the village at first light if everything on their passports checked out.

The three women gathered in a tent to wait out the night.

Dawn came at 4:30, and they were up. They knew the village was a three-hour walk away. But Hutchings was a strong walker, Schelly thought. He’d easily cut the time by an hour. By 6:30, she was watching the trail from the town.

An hour passed, then another. Sometime after 9, the missing guide came back alone.

“I started getting a knot in my stomach,” Schelly said.

He had an envelope for “the American woman.”

Inside was a letter in Urdu, the language of Muslim India and Pakistan. Schelly asked the guide to read it.

“For the American Government Only,” the letter began. There was a list of 21 prisoners in Indian jails who must be released in exchange for the four Westerners. The letter was signed by Al-Faran.

A sick feeling hit Schelly. This was not a robbery. The men had been kidnapped.

“A voice inside was saying ‘This can’t be happening.”’

A lesson in real life

Sitting in a circle in the Arlington Elementary gymnasium, Gwen Sanders’ sixth-graders made an almost effortless shift from talking about their crab soccer game to international politics.

Arlington students know more about Kashmir than most American kids their age. They can find the mountainous state in northern India on a map. They can explain that Muslims fight Hindus, and even discuss why a government might refuse to trade hostages for convicted prisoners.

From the beginning, teachers talked about the abduction in class, Sanders said, to blend it into regular lessons and to ease any fears the children may have.

Students say they don’t understand why the guerrillas don’t just let Hutchings go. They know Schelly is spending the summer in Kashmir, and some are worried.

“Somebody might kidnap her, too,” said one girl.

When she first returned after the kidnapping, Schelly’s students would talk of a “Rambo”-style rescue.

“Rambo” is a movie, she told them. This is real life. The country is wide, the roads scarce, the hills remote and the snow deep.

“The one thing I’ve come to realize is, none of this is easy.”

‘We’re not risk-takers’

Kashmir has drawn tourists to its lakes and mountains for centuries. But the Himalayas form a backdrop for a tumultuous and sometimes dangerous political reality.

Hindu-dominated India controls Kashmir, which is a predominantly Muslim state. Nearby is Pakistan, also Muslim, and Pakistan has wanted Kashmir ever since the two countries were divided 50 years ago.

Some Kashmiris want their own country, others want to be part of Pakistan, and still others are content to be part of India.

Muslim guerrillas from Pakistan and Afghanistan range across the mountain borders. The Indian military controls the cities and main roadways, but guerrillas often battle the army - and sometimes one another - for the countryside.

Schelly says she and her husband did not knowingly walk into danger in the summer of 1995 when they traveled to Kashmir. They had checked with the Indian Tourist Agency after arriving in New Delhi and were told only to avoid certain parts of Srinagar, the state’s summer capital.

They were going to the countryside, which was quiet.

“We are not risk-takers,” said Schelly, past president of the Spokane Mountaineers Club.

The couple met at a club-sponsored outing to Lolo, Mont., in 1984. Both were interested in mountain climbing, went on several club trips together and within a year “became an item,” Schelly said. They married in 1991.

It was the second marriage for both, and they decided not to have children. Hutchings, two years older, didn’t want children and Schelly got her “kid fix” with 500 elementary students every day.

Hutchings, a neuropsychologist who worked with victims of debilitating head injuries, taught the club’s mountain climbing classes. He had a reputation for a quick wit and a careful attention to detail.

Each summer, Hutchings took off a month from his practice and the couple traveled. They had climbed in the north Cascades and the Himalayas, trekked in Switzerland, Bolivia and India.

“Usually, Don and I are really well-prepared for everything,” Schelly said.

“We’re the ones who bring the equipment, the supplies, the first-aid kit, and know how to use it all. When I think of all the travelers we’ve run into who had no clue where they were going and what they would do there and came out all right…. It seems unfair in a way that this should happen to us.”

Caught in a crisis

The days after the kidnapping are a blur for Schelly. The tourists walked about six hours to Pahalgam, the nearest town, to report the abduction, and the police chief asked if there was a ransom note.

The note was addressed to the American government, but Schelly knew she needed the local police. She looked at her guide, who nodded. She gave the note to the police.

At the time, she didn’t know that the Indian government - like most governments - has a firm policy of not trading convicted prisoners for captives.

American and British embassy staff joined Schelly and the two British women in Srinagar. The Indian police tried to negotiate with the gunmen for the hostages’ release. Experts from the FBI and Scotland Yard flew in to help.

Complicating the talks was the fact that no one knew what Al-Faran was. (The name may be a reference to the mountain near the birthplace of the prophet Mohammed, researchers later guessed.)

Five days after the kidnapping, Childs escaped. The gunmen quickly seized two other tourists - a German, Dirk Hasert, and a Norwegian, Hans Christian Ostro.

Now there were five hostages and two more governments to consult.

The relatives were advised to avoid the media. Publicity would only raise the value of the hostages.

Schelly asked to be allowed to speak with the gunmen, who sometimes talked by radio with the negotiator for the Indian police.

No, she was told. These are bad people; it will only upset you and endanger your husband.

She would wake up at dawn, lie in bed and plan. She could return to the countryside, travel the trails where the military trucks could not go, seek clues.

Too dangerous, she was told. You might be the next hostage.

“I just wonder, in the back of my mind, ‘What if I had gone in with a backpack and a guide?’ If something could have been done in the first three days, the first two weeks or the first two months?

“You can drive yourself crazy thinking about what might have been, what you could have done differently.”

Schelly and the wives and girlfriends of the other hostages became family.

The guerrillas would threaten to kill one or more hostages by a certain date. Deadlines would pass; nothing would happen.

Hutchings was often singled out in the threats.

“As the American, Don was always targeted. We were the superpower,” Schelly said. “I was hopeful that would also cushion him.”

One evening, embassy officials came to visit the hostage families, who were gathered in one room. There were rumors that the body of a Westerner had been found, decapitated, near a village. Experts were sent to determine whether it was a hostage.

As the meeting broke up, a German Embassy official walked out with Schelly. It’s not your husband, he said quietly. She looked up to see Norwegian officials ushering away Ostro’s family.

Hans Christian Ostro was dead.

Return to Spokane

Schelly spent five months in India, hoping to be there when her husband was freed. Deadlines came and went. By November 1995, snow was piling up in the Himalayas and contact with Al-Faran was sporadic.

She came home to Spokane, and followed the advice of government officials to keep a low profile.

There were always reasons for hope. An upcoming election might settle the political unrest. A religious holiday could prompt the captors to release their hostages.

That December, the Indian government received what would be the last communication from Al-Faran. The group claimed it no longer held the hostages; one had been lost and three others “arrested” by the Indian army after a skirmish Dec. 4.

A gunbattle had occurred, the government admitted. The group’s suspected leader, an Afghani named Abdul Hamil Turki, and several others had been killed. But the Indians did not have the hostages. They were believed to be in the mountains where no one could come or go until spring.

Schelly kept a journal, writing to her husband about the things he would want to know when he was free. At Christmas, friends gathered in their home to write him holiday messages. They put together a “care package” that an international aid group thought it could deliver.

But the arrangements fell through and the package stayed in Spokane.

In February 1996, friends again gathered at their home. It was the holiday that marks the end of Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting, and Schelly was convinced this would be the occasion when the guerrillas would release the captives.

As she looked up at the full moon which marked the holiday, she knew Don was looking at the same moon, half a world away. They’d watch the next full moon together, she thought.

In the following nights, the moon began to wane. So did her certainty.

“After that, I learned I can’t trust my feelings any more. When I think a certain date or a certain time, it sets me up for disappointment,” she said.

Months later, Schelly went to see “Forrest Gump.” In the movie, there’s a scene where the hero meets his long-lost girlfriend at an anti-war rally. They call each other’s name across a sea of bodies, then run together and embrace in the reflecting pond.

Schelly had dreamed of her own reunion. Would she go to a village, meet her husband in Srinagar or wait for him in New Delhi? Would he be healthy enough to come to her, or would she have to go to him in a hospital?

Sitting in the theater, it struck her: It had been months since she’d been certain enough of Hutchings’ release to worry about the details.

The second Christmas after the kidnapping passed quietly, no gathering of friends to write messages. “There are some social events I choose not to go to now, because I don’t always want to discuss it.”

Going public

Schelly went back to India twice in 1996. She asked for help from President Clinton, Pakistani Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto and countless government officials.

Before leaving Spokane to mark the first anniversary of the kidnapping, she broke her silence and began issuing pleas for the hostages’ release. She also worked to publicize a reward - some $28,000 the Indian government agreed to offer for information about the captives.

The Kashmiri hostage crisis again became international news. But only briefly. The news media has a short and unpredictable attention span, she learned.

This spring, Schelly and former hostage John Childs were flown to New York to be interviewed on “Good Morning America.” After the interview was taped, the network received a bulletin from Florida - President Clinton had fallen and hurt his knee. His injury canceled an upcoming summit. The interview was pre-empted.

Don’t worry, network officials told Schelly. We’ll run the tape in three days, when we have an open slot.

Three days later, coverage of the rescheduled summit bumped the interview. Network officials said the segment probably would run the following week.

It never did.

“McCalls, Ladies Home Journal and those publications don’t want to touch this story,” Schelly said, “because it doesn’t have a happy ending.”

A change of plans

When she left for India this month, Schelly hoped to do the things she hadn’t right after the kidnapping - trek through Kashmir’s back country, visit small villages where her husband and the other captives reportedly were seen.

After she arrived in New Delhi on June 21, embassy officials convinced her that was too dangerous.

Kashmir is politically unstable. Some separatists were calling for a strike. A hand grenade had exploded in a bus depot.

So she will visit the cities and towns of Kashmir, handing out brochures with pictures of the hostages and information about a new $2 million reward offered by the American government. She will talk with officials in New Delhi and Islamabad, the capital of Pakistan. She hopes to give extensive media interviews and rekindle interest in the captives.

She doesn’t know if she will find the closure she seeks.

The change of plans is frustrating, she said. People in the out-of-the-way villages are most likely to know about the captives.

“But the things that we are able to do are important - to meet face to face with (government officials) and let them know we’re real people, not just a name on a paper on their desk.

“People ask, ‘How long are you going to continue to look?’ or ‘How will you know when it’s enough?’ My only answer is: When I run out of ideas, or when people are no longer willing to do anything to help, then I’m stuck.”

On Friday, when America celebrates the anniversary of its independence, Schelly will be in Srinagar, seeking other types of independence - for her husband from his captors, and for herself from uncertainty.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 6 Color Photos

MEMO: This sidebar appeared with the story: Schelly’s journal After Don Hutchings was kidnapped, Jane Schelly began keeping a journal. Here are some excerpts from the first year of his captivity: July 21, 1995, Day 18. (A British Embassy official) said he needed to talk to us. We could see immediately it was bad news and the mood changed quickly. He read a fax that mentioned a bloody conflict had occurred at 9 a.m. in which two hostages were injured. It just didn’t seem possible. We all wanted our husband not to be the one involved, but when you looked around you realized you didn’t want to wish this on anyone else, either. Thoughts: what kind of wounds do pistols, AK-47s, machine guns and hand grenades make? … I truly felt sick. I hadn’t felt like this since the night Don was taken and didn’t come down the hill the next morning. July 26, Day 23. In the morning, the photo arrived of the five guys smiling. It sure brought a smile to my face and heart and I kept looking at it all day. Aug. 6, Day 34. (Embassy officials showed Schelly a picture of Hutchings they believed was a phony, staged to suggest he was wounded). Don looked surprisingly good if you could ignore the blood-stained bandage. He was tanned … his upper arms and sides still looked like they had a bit of fat left - forgive me Don … We wanted so badly to believe these pictures weren’t true, that the guys weren’t injured. We studied and studied them, even with a magnifying glass, looking for any possible clue or signal. Aug. 27, Day 55. Got caught up in a lot of negative thought patterns … How long can this thing really go on? Will they just kill them all to get it over with and make a point? Will they kill one in order to get attention and force progress or would this cause too much threat of a commando raid? Sept. 7, Day 70. (An embassy official) said that a very specific threat had been made, that the American hostage would be killed today at 8 p.m. They were taking the threat very seriously … but believed that it was made without coordination of the leadership … I tried to keep writing as he was talking and I knew that everyone was watching me. I started to shake so badly I could hardly write. I put my feet solidly on the floor so the shaking wouldn’t be so obvious. I clenched my pen tightly to stop my hands shaking. Oct. 1, Day 89. It’s kind of hard to write “Oct.” I am fairly sure I won’t be here either way to write “Nov.” During the night, I heard all the crickets and wondered if you heard them too, or if at your climate, the frost has killed them. I thought of you having early darkness. Could you be outside and enjoy the evening or are you guarded in a tent or stone hut? Dec. 25, Day 173. I just couldn’t let myself get too excited about (a news report suggesting a solution was imminent) since so much of it was very old news to me and nothing thus far has come of it … I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news to all these people who were so excited and let them know that this was all old and nothing really had come to pass. I just didn’t want to be disappointed by all this. Jan. 21, 1996, Day 200. Whoever thought I’d be writing 200? Will I be writing 2,200? … I hope you are warm enough to sleep restfully and through the night. I hope your mind is occupied during the day. April 24, Day 292. We were ushered into the (White House) Blue Room. We were introduced to many people and served great home-squeezed orange juice. I couldn’t help but think of how ironic it was that here I am sipping fresh-squeezed orange juice at the White House while Don is probably eating lentils and rice in some shepherd’s hut … President Clinton and Vice President Al Gore came into the room and made the rounds, shaking hands and having a word for each of us. I expressed my appreciation for all that has been done and (Clinton) commented that they would keep working on it ‘til he was home safe.