In memory
Arthur “Rusty” Humby
September 20, 1953 – July 14, 2021
Rusty was a working-class hero. Picture a hippie Willy Loman, minus the tragedy: a man who worked hard his whole life, built a good one, and did well by the people around him. Not unsuccessful. Quite the opposite. He just never needed to be over the hump to know what mattered.
He built helicopters
Rusty grew up in Stamford, Connecticut, the son of Art Humby, the B-29 pilot who walked out of occupied China, and Bette O'Connell. He went to trade school to learn how to build helicopters, and that's what he did. He spent most of his career at Sikorsky Aircraft as a Crew Chief.
What he loved
Music
Especially the words. Bob Dylan, Jackson Browne, Dire Straits, Creedence Clearwater Revival. For Rusty a song was only as good as what it had to say.
Baseball
And Mickey Mantle above all.
Hockey
Mr. Hockey himself, Gordie Howe.
Cars
He loved them.
Golf
A later-in-life love.
The simple pleasures
A cold beer, and a little weed.
The big picture
Two things came out of Rusty more than anything else.
“You have to look at the big picture.”
Whatever was going wrong, he'd step back from it. The small stuff stayed small.
“It's a beautiful thing.”
And when something went right, a good song, a good swing, a good day, he said so.
He was husband to Karen, son of Art and Bette, and a Humby through and through. He is missed.