Yesterday, the world lost one of the heroes of the 20th century. Sir Edmund Hillary died of heart failure at the age of 88, having lived a full and worthy life.
Edmund Hillary loved mountain climbing, and worked as a beekeeper so that his winters would be free for climbing. He completed his first major climb (Mount Oliver, in the Southern Alps) in 1939, at the age of 20. As World War II began, he applied to join the air force of his native New Zealand, but withdrew for religious and conscience reasons. In 1943, though, he joined the Royal New Zealand Air Force as a navigator aboard the Catalina flying boats.
In 1951, Hillary was a member of an expedition to reconnoiter Mount Everest in preparation for the later climb. In 1953, Sir Edmund Hillary and sherpa Tenzig Norgay became the first men to reach the summit of Mount Everest. This will earn him a place in history books forever, and deservedly so. He, by the way, left a cross on the summit.
In 1985 he became the first man to have stood on both the North and South poles of the planet, as well as the summit of Mount Everest, as he continued his adventurous life.
He also was a generous man. He founded the Himalayan Trust to help the Sherpa people, and to build schools for the remote people of Nepal. He lived a great life, and he shared it with others, recognizing their contributions to his efforts.
I also appreciated Sir Edmund Hillary’s ethics. After reports of climbers leaving climber David Sharp to die, he publicly condemned them and their actions. He understood the goal, and I know that he knew the thrill of accomplishment. But he also understood priorities. Another man’s life is more important than your glory.
That, I’m afraid, is an attitude too often lost in our modern world. Sir Edmund Hillary was a great man, and Sir Edmund Hillary was a good man. This is a man who didn’t waste any part of his life settling for good enough. He always pushed that envelope.