Anthony (Tony) Sutter’s grin at two years old exposed jagged teeth of various heights, like stair steps leading nowhere but to a brilliant smile. Next to each cheek, he gripped his prized possessions: an airplane and a helicopter.
Aerial toys and airborne thoughts never left Tony’s hands and mind; he wanted to be a pilot for as long as he could remember.
Deliberately he crafted his life around one day becoming a pilot. He played football, not because he liked it, but because it afforded him the best physical preparation for entrance into pilot school.
In his later years, he regarded the physical abuse from his youth at his father’s hands as the building blocks for the physical toughness and mental stamina needed for the combat and life-and-death situations in the military — fodder for his coveted prize.
He chose to begin his training in what he considered to be the toughest of the military branches — the Marines. He went to Marine officer candidate training in Quantico between his sophomore and junior years in college.
What he thought was a liftoff after a long runway, turned out to be a failed takeoff.
After 3 weeks of candidate school rigor, he failed the eye exam. The non-physical qualified (NPQ) label he received felt like a gut punch as did his ensuing ground officer assignment.
Unwilling to accept the ground officer assignment, Tony drowned his sorrows at a bar with his friends playing a drinking game of quarters. As he downed a mug of beer, a quarter caught in his throat.
As Tony turned blue, a friend furiously pumped his stomach to dislodge the quarter. As the quarter flew out of his throat into the air, Tony’s first thought was,
What are you doing to me God?
And next,
But what have I ever done for You?
This second thought he knew came from God — God’s voice inside his head.
With a lingering feeling of conviction in his throat, he recalled a prayer card that Deacon Howard Gourges had given him when he was in middle school. The card contained the words to the Memorare, a prayer invoking the Blessed Virgin Mary.
Tony was drawn to the prayer on the card, especially the aerial reference: ‘I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins’. He knew the prayer was special; he kept it in a special place.
After declining a ground officer assignment with the Marines, he began praying the Memorare every day. He began attending daily Mass. Every day he began putting holy water on the obstacles to his dream – his eyes.
He prayed the Blessed Mother would intercede for him and his dream of flight, offering to do something for God if his prayers were answered.
Now a college junior, Tony enrolled in Army ROTC (Reserve Officer Training Corps) and rigorously prepared to qualify for its flight orientation training.
One day, after his usual training run, he prayed the Memorare, once again asking for the Blessed Mother’s help. In the spot where he usually ended his run, his ears perked up.
He immediately recognized the Huey helicopter by its distinctive sound. All pilots, and anyone who has ever watched a single Vietnam War movie, recognize the unmistakable sound of the double-bladed, single-engine Huey (Bell UH-1) helicopter – the deep baritone that pulsates into the air is iconic:
HWOP ~ HWOP ~ HWOP
At that moment, he heard the characteristic HWOP. He whipped his head skyward to see a Huey.
Iconic Huey acoustic:
His hopes took flight. He knew she would come to his aid.
Miraculously, Tony passed his second eye test, which qualified him for cadet flight orientation training at an ROTC camp during the summer after his junior year in college.
With nearly 10,000 applicants every year for a mere 20 slots in flight school, Tony had to outperform the other cadets. A 100% score was the minimum for consideration. The higher the score, the greater his chances.
He threw himself into extended physical training. He ran through nights, through storms, through the pain. He developed a three-inch blister under his right big toe that continued to grow. Tony could barely put weight on his foot.
On the day of the qualifying run, the blister was bigger and angrier than ever. Tony knew that if he took a rain-check on the qualifying run, his score would get docked, even if he ran a perfect time on the re-run.
In the open field, Tony sought a quiet place to be with the Virgin Mary. The only space he could find was inside a port-a-potty., He paced the square space with tiny steps, praying the Memorare. This is it, Mary.
He came out from the port-a-potty for stretching and warm-ups.
No change in the pain or his foot. It was still unbearable.
He headed back into the port-a-potty. Again he prayed the Memorare. Mary, carry me through this. I need you.
When the shot rang out, he lunged forward and sprinted as though running away from his blister, away from its pain, away from the three inches of swell under his foot’s threat to ground him, away from all his past hardships and disappointments.
He ran fast, faster than ever.
As he crossed the finish line, his blister exploded and blood and pus shot up his leg to his knee, through his shoe, soaking his sock. He had finished in his record time of 11 min and 5 seconds, smashing the 12-minute minimum.
He narrowly missed qualifying for flight school. He was an alternate: #22 out of 20. With flight school still outside his reach, he needed 2 candidates to withdraw.
The day before 20 candidates were required to report to flight school, Tony paced at home near his phone, waiting for a call – the call of his life that he was no longer an alternate.
The phone rang.
“Tony, this is Colonel Hermoyan at Fort Rucker.”
“You’re in.”
He shook his head at the incredulity, and through joy-filled tears, Tony packed up and headed to Ft. Rucker as soon as he got off the phone.
Never mind that report-for-training was the next day. If his car broke down, if any mishap delayed him, if any accident befell him, he would walk, he would hitch-hike if he needed, to make it to Ft. Rucker — to report on time on Sunday at noon and next day.
Flying and learning to fly was everything Tony imagined it would be. He grinned ear to ear, reminiscent of his picture at 2 years old. But this wasn’t a picture. He wasn’t holding a toy chopper, he was flying a real one.
The requirement to graduate from officer flight school was a passing score on the instrument test, and then on an oral exam. On the day of the instrument test, Tony’s pilot (stick) buddy sat in the cockpit, the test pilot sitting beside him, while Tony sat in the back seat.
The test pilot cursed and berated Tony’s buddy. “You call yourself a pilot? This is the worst test ride I have ever seen. You are an embarrassment. I need to shower to get your filthy stink off of me.”
Tony’s stick buddy had failed.
Then it was Tony’s turn. A key pilot skill is in the launch; precision in controlling the rotor blades to achieve a stable, smooth launch was everything. Tony murmured the Memorare. With sweaty palms, Tony clutched the collective and cyclic.
The helicopter rose without a single wobble or dip. Tony said, “It was as though God had lifted the craft with a string.”
“Not bad,” nodded the test pilot. Not only not bad but, for Tony, it had been the best ride of his life. He passed the instrument test with top scores, scores so high that he was exempted from the oral exam.
Through Mary’s intercession, Tony became a pilot. Tony was living his dream. Tony moved steadily up the Army officer ranks.
When Tony eventually became his unit’s ranking officer, his order to his crew before embarking on any mission was an unusual one.
“Instruments ready?” he would ask.
“Yes sir!”
“Gear ready?”
“Yes sir!”
“Are we ready?”
“Yes sir!” the crew would respond.
“No, we are not ready!” would be Tony’s response. They wouldn’t be ready unless they recited Tony’s favorite prayers: the Memorare and Psalm 91.
Once during a ground tour stint in Iraq he and his crew drove past a blown-up vehicle, part of their same convoy, who had rolled out only one minute before them. His crew shook their heads. Their hands trembled. They never needed another reminder to pray the Memorare or Psalm 91 before a mission.
Tony attributes multiple incidents where he should have died — but survived — to Mother Mary’s intercession.
When a choice between life and death presented itself with zero seconds to pray, Tony’s only recourse was to cry out, “Jesus, Mary!”
Once on a routine training flight, the skies were clear, blue, and bright. Out of nowhere, a crop duster appeared. One minute it was nowhere, the next minute it came a few feet from his aircraft.
“Jesus, Mary!”
To avoid a collision, Tony’s reflex jerked his craft so abruptly as to invert the helicopter.
But the helicopter he was flying, an inversion was not recommended (The semi-rigid rotor system of the Huey doesn’t tolerate a negative G force). Technically, the inversion should have brought the chopper down. But it didn’t.
In reminiscing on his 31 years as an Army pilot, Tony observes Mary was always a part of his life. Tony’s wife is a Mary namesake: Mary Anne. Then two more Marys came into his life when they named their girls Mary Annalise and Mary Annastasia.
Tony now lives surrounded by Marys as a retired US Army pilot. At a slower pace, at ground level, he keeps a church and a school named after Our Lady safe and secure.
Sometimes it doesn’t feel like God loves us. As Tony did, we question, What are you doing to me, God?
Knowing we would have doubts, God arranged it so that others are available to help. He sent us intercessors to take our petitions to Him. Some of these intercessors are in our community on earth, like Deacons with prayer cards, while others are in the community in heaven.
The Blessed Mother famously interceded at the wedding feast of Cana. She understood the wedding couple had run out of wine, and through her observation, Jesus intervened. In the community of heaven, the Blessed Mother understands our needs, she waits on us and for us, she intercedes for us. She (as do the saints) takes our prayers to the almighty, the One and the True, who made us and knows us through and through.
Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession, was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins, my Mother. To thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy, hear and answer me. Amen.
You who dwell in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shade of the Almighty, Say to the LORD, “My refuge and fortress, my God in whom I trust.”
He will rescue you from the fowler’s snare, from the destroying plague,
He will shelter you with his pinions, and under his wings you may take refuge; his faithfulness is a protecting shield.
You shall not fear the terror of the night nor the arrow that flies by day,
Nor the pestilence that roams in darkness, nor the plague that ravages at noon.
Though a thousand fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, near you it shall not come.
You need simply watch; the punishment of the wicked you will see.
Because you have the LORD for your refuge and have made the Most High your stronghold, No evil shall befall you, no affliction come near your tent.
*For he commands his angels with regard to you, to guard you wherever you go.
With their hands they shall support you, lest you strike your foot against a stone. You can tread upon the asp and the viper, trample the lion and the dragon.
Because he clings to me I will deliver him; because he knows my name I will set him on high. He will call upon me and I will answer; I will be with him in distress; I will deliver him and give him honor.
With length of days I will satisfy him, and fill him with my saving power.
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