Tom Duttle: Building a Life of Purpose, One Commitment at a Time
At 4 a.m., while most of Las Cruces sleeps, Tom Duttle is already moving. It's a habit he's looking forward to breaking someday—but not just yet. There's too much left to do.
Thomas C. Duttle—Tom to everyone who knows him—has spent nearly a quarter-century supporting the mission at White Sands Missile Range, or WSMR, in New Mexico, first as a contractor and now as a mechanical engineer in the Test Technology Directorate. But to understand the man behind the engineering drawings and project timelines, you have to look beyond the office, past the security gates, and into a life shaped by family, hard work, and an unwavering commitment to leaving things better than he found them.
Roots in the Desert
Born in Las Cruces, New Mexico, and raised in Mesilla Park, Duttle grew up in a household that was anything but quiet. He was one of thirteen children—six brothers and six sisters—sharing a home with his parents, his grandfather, and what he describes with understated humor as "the family drama."
"We lived outside the city," he recalls. "There were always tons of chores to do to take care of the place."
Sports were largely discouraged after older siblings suffered injuries, so Duttle and his siblings played outside, camped, and celebrated holidays together. One constant comfort: his grandfather, who would bring chocolate mint ice cream from Baskin Robbins whenever the children were sick. "The best in town at the time," Duttle remembers.
His parents, George and Patricia—an electronics technician turned salesman and a social worker, respectively—instilled in him a philosophy that would guide his entire life: independent thinking and doing the right thing. His father, a Navy veteran who was stationed at Pearl Harbor before being transferred to install sonar on submarines just days before the attack, didn't talk much about the war. But the lessons of service and duty were passed down, nonetheless.
The Road Less Direct
Duttle’s path to becoming an engineer wasn't a straight line. He says it’s ironic because engineering was nowhere on his list of career choices—he wanted to be a farmer. He graduated from Las Cruces High School in 1976, an "okay student" who didn't really apply himself. He tried to enlist in the Air Force after high school—an attempt that ended when a knee injury required surgery and disqualified him.
After a year and a half studying Agri-Business Management at New Mexico State University, or NMSU, Duttle left school to work as a welder and fabricator, traveling across New Mexico and Arizona. It was physically demanding work that "makes you old fast," he says. But it was also educational in ways no classroom could replicate.
In the fabrication shop, Duttle found himself fascinated by mechanical shears, press brakes, and cranes. He studied how they worked, learned metallurgy, and became proficient at load, weight, and balance calculations. One day, he spotted an error in some take-offs. When he brought it to the project engineer's attention, he was dismissed. Two days later, the same engineer came back asking for help fixing the mistake.
"That was the day I realized I was smart enough to do something different."
A Pivotal Turn
The turning point came when Duttle arrived at WSMR to install a launch rail for the High Endoatmospheric Defense Interceptor Test Program/Kinetic Kill Vehicle Integrated Technology Experiment, commonly known as HEDI KITE. What was supposed to be a temporary job turned into three and a half years working for McDonnell Douglas. His supervisors saw something in him and convinced him to return to school for an engineering degree.
By then, Duttle had a wife, two kids, and a mortgage. It wasn't easy. His wife, Mickey, worked while he shared childcare responsibilities and often worked evenings until 11 p.m. or later. He was home when the kids came home from school, and they'd work on homework together before dinner or his shift.
"Those interactions were priceless," Duttle says. "My children were able to experience the monetary benefit of an education, as they were old enough to understand the difference in income and standard of living before and after graduating college."
He earned his bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering from NMSU—a degree he counts among his most valued gifts. While attending, he was supported by many people who offered him short-term and part-time employment opportunities that allowed him to finish.
The Work That Matters
Today, Duttle provides mechanical design and engineering support for the Test Technology Directorate. He reviews designs from equipment manufacturers, procures equipment for range support, and develops concept plans and drawings for equipment that needs to be manufactured.
The challenges are constant. "Often equipment doesn't exist commercially for the Army's application, and there isn't the time or budget available to develop new equipment, so commercially available equipment is often modified to work," he explains. Integrating new technology presents another hurdle, as new equipment is usually not backward compatible.
But the rewards—what Duttle calls "small wins"—keep him going. "Small wins that help provide our Warfighters with the best, most advanced equipment possible."
One such win: a friend's son serving in Afghanistan who used the Army Tactical Missile System, emphasized to Duttle during leave just how vital the work at WSMR truly is. That conversation stuck with him.
Duttle’s colleagues know him as someone who "seems to be able to figure out how to get things done." He's designed rack slides that allow individual replacement without depopulating entire equipment racks, saving an estimated $28,000 to $43,000 in labor charges per incident—plus keeping critical equipment available for mission support. He's planned missions using creative solutions, like anchoring drones in front of high-powered fans to characterize heat signatures in a controlled environment, eliminating variables and saving the expense of using range airspace.
His leadership style is simple: lead by example and empower people to help provide solutions as team members. "People will follow you if you are willing to do the jobs you wish them to do," he says.
The Man Behind the Title
Ask Duttle what he's most proud of, and the answer isn't a project or a design. It's getting his children through grade school and college—and seeing that they have "a strong desire to do the right thing at the right time."
His greatest personal achievement? "Being able to walk and run after suffering back and neck injuries in traffic accidents." The recoveries required surgeries and immense determination, but Duttle mastered it.
Mickey, his wife of 47 years whom he married after dating for three, is his best friend and champion. They met at a country and western dance and have shared a life of camping, hiking, dancing, and traveling. What keeps them together? "The ability we have to allow each other to pursue things we enjoy separately and alternately enjoy sharing time together."
"She is my best friend and champion," Duttle says of Mickey. "She has always been there for me."
They have two children: Jason, 44, and Gina, 42. And then there's the newest light in Duttle’s life—his three-year-old granddaughter, who wants to FaceTime with her "PAW-PAW" every Sunday morning. He says being a grandfather is one of the best things that's happened to him.
Lessons Learned
Duttle has learned some things the hard way. "No matter how indispensable you think you are, life will go on without you," he says. He admits to having several life regrets, one of which is missing some of his children's important life events due to work. He also wishes he'd taken more family vacations that weren't sports-related.
He's also learned to let go of perfection. "Perfection is elusive and often what you have completed is good enough," he says—a lesson that came from feedback that was difficult to hear but ultimately valuable.
His philosophies on life are straightforward: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” and “If you go looking for trouble, you will usually find it." The Golden Rule was taught by his parents and in grade school, but "reinforced by the school of hard knocks."
As for what few people know about him? Duttle wishes he had taken the time to learn to play string instruments, but it’s one of the top five items on his bucket list. He also loves Southwest history—he once wrote a paper on the Lincoln County Wars that taught him "there are usually more than one side to a story, and the truth is usually buried in the factual details."
Ask what he wishes more people understood about the real Tom Duttle, and the answer is quintessential: "I try to leave things in better shape than when I arrived."
Looking Forward
Duttle is looking toward retirement—not with a specific date in mind, but with anticipation. He's looking forward to not waking up at 4 a.m. daily, to spending time with his granddaughter, to traveling (Alaska and Australia are on the bucket list), to taking at least one cruise, and to returning to coaching soccer referees.
He hopes when he retires someday his WSMR colleagues will remember him as someone who cared deeply about making a difference in the lives of others and that he “strived to make contributions that improved the work environment and made life a bit easier for the personnel working in the field."
Now that his own children are grown and out of college, he said he would offer the following advice to teenagers graduating from high school: "Knowledge is the only thing you truly own. Things can come and go but invest in yourself by learning."
And to anyone reading his story? "Strive to be the best you can be every day."
It's a philosophy Duttle has lived—as a welder, an engineer, a husband, a father, and now a grandfather who answers FaceTime calls on Sunday mornings. A man who honors his commitments, listens to others, and leaves things better than he found them.
Not bad for a kid from Mesilla Park who just wanted to be a farmer.
Social Sharing