A Humanitarian, at 30,000 Feet

The first man to reach the summit of Mount Everest, Sir Edmund Hillary died Friday in his native New Zealand at the age of 88. A beekeeper by trade, Hillary and famed Himalayan climber Tenzing Norgay completed the 29,028-foot journey to the world's tallest peak in 1953, amid subzero temperatures, dangerous crevasses and equipment that would today be considered primitive. Yet despite being hailed as one of the greatest adventurers of the 20th century, Hillary is remembered by friends as much for his humanity, generosity and devotion to helping others as he is for reaching the summit of the mountain. He founded the Himalayan Trust in 1961, through which he helped build schools, clinics, airfields and hospitals for the native Sherpas, a mountain people he said he wanted to prevent from "becoming peons" to Western tourists. David Breashears, a filmmaker, fellow climber and good friend, met Hillary in 1981 on an expedition to Everest's east face, known to climbers as the Kangshung Face. He shared his memories with NEWSWEEK's Jessica Bennett. Excerpts of his comments:

David Breashears: I first met Hillary in the lobby of a Hong Kong hotel. I was an expedition member of a team going to Tibet, our hopes set on making the first ascent to the unclimbed Kangshung Face of Everest. Hillary was the honorary leader of that expedition and had accepted our invitation to travel to Base Camp with us. I had long dreamed of climbing Everest, and Hillary had been an iconic figure in my life since I was a young boy. So when I saw him standing there, in the lobby, I was awestruck: I hesitated to introduce myself. I finally did, and what struck me the most about him was his humble approach to life. He had none of that glow that one gets from being adored and revered—it just wasn't something he was looking for.

In 1981, Hillary wasn't the robust climber he once was, nor was he trying to be. I was hiking the trail with him at one point during our ascent, over a 17,000-foot pass, and in the distance, we could see the Kangshung Face of Everest. But he didn't want to talk so much about climbing; his life was no longer just that of a mountaineer. He founded the Himalayan Trust in 1961, and from then on, with a hammer in his hand, he was building schools, bridges, airstrips—committing decades of his life to uplifting the Sherpa people, whom he'd come to know intimately through his years of climbing in the Everest region of Nepal. It wasn't like anyone had forced him to do it—it was a natural sense of duty, and a lot of it was very personal for him. His work with the Sherpas took him back to the villages, and to the places and people he came to know during his ascent of Everest in 1953.

At one point, our conversation did turn to Everest, and he said, "David, getting to the top is important, but getting back to the bottom is what really matters." I could see in his eyes a wistfulness for being on an expedition, but you could also see that what drove this man up high mountains and to the top of Everest was an absolute passion for those mountains in the purest form—not for a feather in his hat. It took an extraordinary drive to make it up that mountain, and he redirected that drive into helping the Sherpas. As we continued walking along that trail, it became very clear to me that there were two Hillarys: the mountaineer that reached the summit of Everest, and the humanitarian, who devoted himself to bettering the lives of others.

© 2008