Haywood Shepherd Hansell III. Tony. Shep. Laroy of Savannah. He was all of those, and he had more personas than handles. He was uproarious, rebellious, entertaining, incisive, boundlessly enthusiastic, committed enough to hack the course—any course—and joker enough to take none too seriously.
The journey started at Maxwell Field in Montgomery, AL, on 13 Mar 1933, when Army Air Corps LT Haywood S. “Possum” Hansell, Jr. and Dorothy Rogers Hansell greeted their first-born and tagged him with that III.
To say that Tony, his brother Denny, and sister Lucia grew up in the Air Force is a colossal understatement. Possum’s children were ringside witness to the burgeoning size and combat power of the Army Air Corps in World War II, and its post-war transition to U.S. Air Force. They knew, as company-and field-graders, the likes of Hap Arnold, Hoyt Vandenberg, Nate Twining, Lawrence Kuter, Ira Eaker, Claire Chennault and others who, with their father, planned and led the air war against Germany and Japan.
That background foreordained that once Tony chose a military career, he would go Air Force. He entered West Point with the Class of 1955, bringing with him a guitar, a rollicking sense of humor, a passing interest in academics, and the heart, nerve, and sinew of a superb athlete.
Beast Barracks found him as harried as the rest of his classmates, but he weathered it with equal parts of wit and grit. He joined E-2 Company and mucked through all the gross agonies and wee triumphs of cadet life.
It didn’t take long to discover that he did everything well. He could drive a volley or land a jab with equal power and finesse, and the boxing and tennis coaches were well rewarded for their reliance on his quick hands. He refused to bother with a sport as sedentary as golf, but he shot scratch in a couple of years when he took it up. Physical prowess was only one of his facets; he was a voracious reader, even when he couldn’t spare the time, and he knew more poetry than the muses.
He was everything you could want in a roommate. Despite the pressures from the Tenth Avenue crowd and the annoying interference of the Tactical Department, he made life on the rock pile bearable, even fun. He taught hambone, and all within earshot learned that a guitar was more than music; it was a magic box that kept the gray walls from closing in.
Midway through First Class year, Tony found the love of his life when Oddie Twining hove into view. At graduation he went to pilot training, where he realized two cherished dreams. He and Oddie wed, joining two great Air Force families, and he earned his wings at Reese AFB, Texas in August 1956.
Following in the track of the Possum, he went to Strategic Air Command. After B-29 transition training he flew the KC-97 at Lincoln AFB, NE, and the KC-135 at Seymour-Johnson AFB, NC. In 1967 he attended Air Command and Staff College, after which he checked out in the F-4 and flew a tour at Yokota AB, Japan. He volunteered for duty in Southeast Asia as a Forward Air Controller, flying the O-2 at Phu Cat and LZ English.
In 1971 he joined the faculty of ACSC at Maxwell AFB, AL, where he was Chief, Strategy and Doctrine Branch, Force Development, and then in Strategy and Analysis. Following Air War College, he went to the Pentagon in 1975 as Deputy Chief, Congressional Hearings, DCS Operations. In 1976 he was assigned to OSD, working in International Security Affairs. In 1979 he went to Randolph AFB, TX, where he served on the Air Training Command staff. He was the Deputy Director for Plans and Programs when he retired in 1985.
Tony was a command pilot. His military decorations include the Defense Superior Service Medal, Legion of Merit, Distinguished Flying Cross, Meritorious Service Medal, six Air Medals, and two Air Force Commendation Medals.
Retirement from active duty found him no less active. He went to work for Northrop Corporation as Director of their San Antonio Operations, promoting the B-2 bomber. He also served as a Trustee of the Daedalian Foundation, devoting countless hours to that society of military aviators.
Retirement also gave him more time to enjoy his family. His son Steven, an aerospace engineer, daughters Lisa, FBI, and Jennifer, USAF, and his grandchildren were a source of pride and a joy in his life.
San Antonio was close to the Padre Island fishing grounds where he spent happy times entertaining classmates and others. Fishing with him, whether they were biting or not, was a treat and an adventure, the purest distillation of camaraderie.
A fortuitous turn of events found all three of their children assigned in the San Antonio area with Tony and Oddie when the terminal illness, a blood disorder, struck. Those close to him knew the outcome, he most of all, and he played it where it laid—no regrets, no recriminations, cheerful to the end. He even did this well.
The wings folded on 26 Nov 2004. His ashes repose in the Ft. Sam Houston National Cemetery, grounded for all time, but there is solace in the thought of that extraordinary spirit taking wing high in some sunlit silence, where he can put out his hand and touch the face of One who gave him a life that counted for so much.
Enriched by his days among us, life goes on for his family and his many friends, and each new day dawns as a gift. We count them all sweet, and they’re all welcome, but it’s nowhere near as good as it was when Tony Hansell was here.
—Family and roommate
Reflections
To hear him sing and bang that old guitar,
To watch him fish, or shoot another par,
To be his friend, or grow up in his house—
Sweet memories all, reflected off a star.