Cabbie’s Death Reminds Us The Meter Is Running

I met Dusty Hutsell in the spring of 1968 when we were dorm mates in Waller Hall at Washington State University. Dusty earned an academic scholarship to the University of Pennsylvania, but transferred to WSU after one semester.

At the time, he was shy, reserved, quiet. I’d like to think we helped cure him of that; perhaps we overdid it. In my photo albums, I find Dusty in a lot of pictures, joining enthusiastically in dorm hijinks, rafting trips, sing-alongs, road trips, Mu Phi Pi pledge dances, you name it.

Dusty was a warm-hearted, colorful character and a loyal friend who helped us all cement lifelong friendships. My life is richer for knowing him.

Dusty had a quick wit and a keen mind. Some of us struggled through chemistry and physics; Dusty generously tutored his dorm mates.

A gifted athlete, he became the nucleus of our intramural sports teams. Flag football, basketball, volleyball or softball, Dusty did it all.

Although he understood the laws of physics well, he could suspend them long enough for the softball he had just crushed to arc gracefully over the outfielders, landing halfway up the hill to the CUB for a legendary home run.

My sole moment of sports glory came at Dusty’s hand. During an intramural flag football game, I hiked the football to Dusty. I was supposed to block someone, but the rushers went other directions and I was alone. When our receivers were all covered, Dusty saw me waving my arms frantically and threw the ball to me, and I ran for what proved to be the winning play.

So is it in life. We have a game plan, but in the fog of battle, the tactics change with the circumstances.

Dusty might have been the first Nobel laureate with a World Series championship ring. But he did march to the beat of a different drummer, and for reasons known only to him, his path eventually led him back to the comfort and familiarity of his hometown where he chose the honorable vocation of driving a taxi.

And now, Dusty has delivered his last fare. His premature passing at the hands of criminals reminds us that we’re all journeying to that ultimate destination, the meter is running, and none of us knows when she or he will arrive. But when we do, perhaps we’ll find Dusty waiting for us, mapping strategy for the next big game, ready to lead us to even greater glory.

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