Search the Western Clippings Site

An Interview With…
        - Archives

Will "Sugarfoot" Hutchins
    - July 2023
    - April 2023
    - January 2023
    - October 2021
    - January 2021
    - November 2020
    - June 2020
    - April 2020
    - December 2019
    - November 2019
    - September 2019
    - August 2019
    - July 2019
    - May 2019
    - March 2019
    - September 2018
    - August 2018
    - March 2018
    - February 2018
    - January 2018
    - September 2017
    - August 2017
    - July 2017
    - May 2017
    - April 2017
    - January 2017
    - December 2016
    - October 2016
    - September 2016
    - August 2016
    - July 2016
    - May 2016
    - March 2016
    - February 2016
    - January 2016
    - December 2015
    - November 2015
    - September 2015
    - August 2015
    - July 2015
    - May 2015
    - April 2015
    - March 2015
    - February 2015
    - January 2015
    - December 2014
    - November 2014
    - October 2014
    - September 2014
    - August 2014
    - July 2014
    - May 2014
    - April 2014
    - March 2014
    - February 2014
    - January 2014
    - December 2013
    - November 2013
    - October 2013
    - September 2013
    - August 2013
    - July 2013
    - June 2013
    - May 2013
    - April 2013
    - March 2013
    - February 2013
    - January 2013
    - December 2012
    - November 2012
    - October 2012
    - September 2012
    - August 2012
    - July 2012
    - June 2012
    - May 2012
    - April 2012
    - March 2012
    - February 2012
    - January 2012
    - December 2011
    - November 2011
    - October 2011
    - August 2011
    - July 2011
    - June 2011
    - May 2011
    - April 2011
    - March 2011
    - February 2011
    - January 2011
    - December 2010
    - November 2010
    - October 2010
    - September 2010
    - August 2010
    - July 2010
    - June 2010
    - May 2010
    - April 2010
    - March 2010
    - February 2010
    - January 2010
    - November 2009
    - October 2009
    - September 2009
    - August 2009
    - July 2009
    - June 2009
    - May 2009
    - April 2009
    - March 2009
    - February 2009
    - January 2009
    - December 2008
    - November 2008
    - September 2008
    - August 2008
    - June 2008
    - April 2008
    - March 2008
    - February 2008

Do You Remember?
    - Archives

Comic Book Cowboys
    - Archives

Westerns of...
    - Archives

Heavies and Characters
      - Archives

The Stuntmen - Neil Summers
    - Archives

Western Treasures
    - Archives

Circus Cowboys
    - Archives

Radio Range Riders
    - Archives

Rangeland Elegance
    - Archives

Western Artifacts
    - Archives

Film Festival Fotos
    - Archives

Silent Western Reviews
    - Archives

Serial Report
    - Archives

Subscribe to Western Clippings

COLLECTIBLES FOR SALE:

Western Clippings Back Issues

Daily Comic Strips
    - Page 1 (1910-1949)
    - Page 2 (1950-1979)

Sunday Comic Strips
    - 1907-1990

Books

Miscellaneous Collectibles

Autographs

Lobby Cards

Movie Posters

Home

JUNE 2010

Howdy!

I take back all the nasty things I said about Nebraska over the years. The dad-blamed corn huskers have administered woeful whuppins to my beloved west coast teams on football fields of battle. Well, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Babs and I did just that one year, when we received a royal invite to come on down for all the fun at the 35th annual NEBRASKAland DAYS in North Platte.

I felt like a fraud prince. Figured they had me mixed up with Clint Eastwood or something. I don’t exactly wear shades because of limelight glare. (Actually, I don’t need glasses—just a question of seeing.) We accepted pronto before they could change their minds, boarded the great silver bird and flew to the surrealistic Denver airport. Ever been there? Looks not unlike a scene from the Arabian Nights. A strrretch limo pulled up. I reckoned a local college’s pole vaulting team would debark. Instead, we were greeted by two dudes in wide-brimmed hats and wider smiles. “Hop aboard, pards,” said they, and across the rolling plains we rode.

We saw a few clouds, deer and antelope playin’, buffalo roamin’ and we heard nary a discouragin’ word—not a car horn—Nebraska provides shelter for an endangered species: the considerate driver. I thought they were extinct.

We pulled into North Platte, and a motorcycle brigade awaited to escort us out to the state-of-the-art rodeo grounds. The arena was jam-packed. Looked as if all of Nebraska showed up. We witnessed the best carnsarned rodeo within memory, especially the clown bull fighting. A barrel o’ laffs. Over the loud speaker the “Sugarfoot” theme. I sauntered out to mid-field for the thrill of a lifetime. Governor Mike Johanss presented me the Buffalo Bill Award for “Outstanding Contribution To Quality Family Entertainment In The Cody Tradition.”

Ah, yes! Those glorious days of yore when TV, flicks, and pop music were fit for human family consumption. I dedicated the trophy to my Mom—during the ‘30s she took me to the circus each year, but we couldn’t afford to stay for the Wild West Show that always followed. I held Buffalo Bill to the sky and proclaimed, “Look, Ma! We finally made it! The greatest Wild West show on earth!”

Buffalo Bill’s statuette reminds me of a George Montgomery sculpture. Ol’ Bill’s taller, heavier, and rarer than Oscar. He’s a man of bronze—Oscar’s gold-plated tinsel. (Beulah, peel a sour grape).

Our wonderful hosts put us up in a snazzy suite with separate but equal bathrooms. The hotel reminded me of Tara in “Gone with the Wind”. A red-carpeted winding stairway led to our digs on the second floor. One night Babs and I recreated Scarlett and Rhett’s big scene. We drew gasps from the throng below when Babs tripped and almost dropped me.

Will Hutchins and wife Barbara on the fire engine, waving.Some more of the highlights of this sensational shebang: Flapjack and pork chop feeds—a silly radio interview in which I pantomimed bronc ridin’ and steer rasslin’—an antique car parade, Babs and I rode on the side of an old red fire truck, tossing candy to children of all ages. I shouted, “I wish these were diamonds!’ The kids were happy with the candy.

Warm hearted mayor Jim Whitaker presented me a plaque officially designating me an admiral in the Nebraska Navy. In response, I sang a slightly bawdy rendition of “She Was Just a Sailor’s Sweetheart”. We met some real sailors assigned to the nuclear sub Nebraska. They stay submerged to make the world safe for democracy and only surface when it’s time to re-enlist.

Then the big parade! We sat in a percheron-driven buggy, Governor Mike and Mrs. Stephanie Johanss gingerly walked behind us—At parade’s end, Babs asked our driver to hitch up in front of a garage sale. Babs is a cowgal second, a woman first! In town, at the majestic old Fox movie theatre, we were thrilled by the super-talented Georgeann Sheets and Red Steagall and their cowboy music and poetry. A trip to the breath-taking sand hills of the 34,000 acre 77 Ranch—A tour of the Buffalo  Bill Ranch,  Scout’s Rest. Lillie Langtry’s  lovely portrait graces a bedroom wall.

I tellya, these Nebraska flat landers are a hearty breed. They grow tall, live long, and where do they get the stamina to last the fortnight of activities? Babs and I were bushed after our four days there. Take a bow, dear old NEBRASKAland DAYS! You put on quite a show. Thanks for your invite and hospitality. You’ve rekindled our belief in humankind. You sure made it awful tough to say…

 —Adios!