As teammates, Harold and I discussed my joining the team at Everest Base Camp to coordinate all the media and relay information back to Amy while on the mountain. Ultimately, we decided against it.
HAROLD
I had two big concerns about Rachel coming to Base Camp. First, I knew I’d be worried about her safety. There would be a steady stream of people flowing through the tent city from all over the world. This came with its own dangers, including leaving her alone with strangers in China. What if they found out I was in the US military? Would they question Rachel?
Plus, altitude sickness is common there, as are some nasty stomach bugs. There was just too much uncertainty, which meant I would be thinking about her safety when I needed to be fully focused on the mission. Loss of focus could mean loss of life.
I also worried about what it would be like for her if something did happen to me up on the mountain. She’d be right there at Base Camp, hearing the play-by-play on the communications systems but being unable to do anything about it. I could literally be dying on the mountain above her, and she’d have no way to get to me. At least if she was at home on the other side of the world, there would be some space between us, and being surrounded by friends and family might make it a little bit easier if something bad happened.
Early on, we realized we needed a Base Camp manager to communicate events on the mountain to our stateside publicist, social media coordinator, and the national media. The Base Camp manager would also help Dave with filming the documentary we had planned to make to continue raising awareness for our cause.
I had reached out to several veterans about being a Base Camp manager but had no success. After briefly contemplating and then dismissing the idea of having Rachel come, I approached one of the first people I told about my Everest quest: Tommy.
Though Tommy was my best friend, that wasn’t why I asked him to be our Base Camp manager. Originally, I had no intention of asking him to take part, but I didn’t know anyone else who could be available for this important role for two months. It just made sense from a financial and operations perspective.
It wasn’t until four months before departing that I asked Tommy if he would be interested in going. I’m surprised his wife, Tati, let him go. At that point in their marriage, he’d never spent a night away from her! Tommy confirmed his company would give him the necessary time off. Not only that, but they would donate $5,000 to the cause, and he would receive $3,000 from his brother-in-law’s company, more than covering the cost for him to join the team.
Two months prior to leaving for our expedition, our team experienced a crushing blow. Since our first phone call a little over a year earlier, CPT Matt Hickey was supposed to be our expedition leader. He had a breadth of mountaineering leadership experience, and he was the current commander at the US Army World Class Athlete Program, which was responsible for training Soldiers participating in the Olympics.
Unexpectedly, he was informed by his commanding general that he wouldn’t be allowed to climb, given his duties with the upcoming Olympics. Our team had a conference call immediately following the news. We talked seriously about canceling the expedition but ultimately decided we would climb anyway, without an expedition leader.
Although we wouldn’t have an actual leader on the mountain, the rest of the team had extensive climbing experience. Except me! We didn’t know it at the time, but the lack of a climbing leader would put all our lives at risk while we were on the mountain.
Rachel was particularly uneasy after learning that Matt would be unable to come and that we still planned on climbing. She saw Matt as added security for me. He had trained me how to climb on ice and kept me under his wing over the past year. Now he wasn’t going to be there to keep me safe.
RACHEL
Added security? I think he means the only security! Matt was the most knowledgeable about Everest, so losing him as the team leader worried me. I didn’t want more things to fall on Harold’s shoulders. He had more than enough to handle bringing awareness to their PTSD cause, and, quite frankly, I wasn’t too confident in his climbing knowledge or experience.
One time we went rock climbing together, and Harold helped me put on my harness. When I came down and expressed how painful it felt, we realized I was wearing it like a thong instead of like a seat, which is the proper way!
It was now just days before Harold was to leave for Everest on April 7, 2016. He had started packing his gear for his two-month Everest adventure, but nothing was guaranteed. There were still hurdles to overcome. For starters, Everest had been closed to climbing expeditions for more than two years after two consecutive climbing seasons had left thirty-five people dead. Just to put things into perspective, the highest number of deaths to occur on Everest happened in those two years. Naturally, you’d think the death rate would be lower now since technology has advanced so much, but the truth is, the weather and avalanches on Everest are so unpredictable. You can’t buy into the idea that you have a better chance of survival now than ever before. It just isn’t true.
I remember being in the family room of my parents’ home before Harold and I were married, when all of a sudden, the television screen was white from the snow of Everest and speckled with color as prayer flags blew in the wind.
I stood in the middle of the room staring at the television as the news covered this tragedy. Mom was sitting on the couch behind me, her face registering shock as she sat frozen by what she was hearing. I stood there only a minute before turning my head, saying, “I can’t watch this,” and walking away.
My mom responded, “I really don’t think he should go” and began rambling about the dangers and possibilities. I went into my room, trying my best to shut it all out. My mom followed me to my bedroom door.
“Rachel, I’m serious. I think you need to put your foot down.”
It’s a weird place to be, supporting your soon-to-be husband in pursuing a dream of his that could very well cost him his life. To this day, I question if it was the right decision. Is there even a right decision in a situation like that? If he died, then clearly it was the wrong decision, but if he succeeded, did that make it the right decision?
I have to commend Harold for his resilience and for trusting that God would close doors if he was making the wrong decision. When Jesus called Peter to walk on water, it required fearlessness to do the unimaginable. When Peter started to doubt, he began to sink. Faith is strengthened through the struggles we face when we depend on God and fully trust Him with the outcome.
If I had let myself hear and read everything about all the Everest tragedies, I don’t know if it would have been possible for me to continue to support Harold. I’d like to think I was trusting God with the outcome as well, but I think most of all, I was avoiding fully acknowledging the dangers for the sake of my own sanity. I knew this was something Harold was going to do, so focusing on all the horrible things wouldn’t help me. It would only make it harder.
I question whether things would have gone the same way if he had brought up the idea of Everest to me after we were already married. Yes, we were engaged when all this began, but we were not yet husband and wife. It changes things significantly when you become one. It may have changed things for him too.
HAROLD
Would I still have decided to go if we’d already been married when the idea first came up? Wow, that’s a great question. The truth is, I don’t know. What I do know is that I was acting completely out of self-interest in my barracks room that day when I decided to climb Everest. Rachel was my first serious relationship, and until that point in my life, I had only made decisions that were in my personal best interest, since I had been responsible for only myself.
Everest had nothing to do with what was best for Rachel or our family. In fact, it stood between Rachel, me, and our future family. I put a deadly wedge between us by choice. At the time, I don’t think I rea
lly understood what it meant to make decisions based on what was best for our family.
I don’t think I started thinking in terms of “us” until quite some time after we were married. In our first year of marriage, we argued about me not being considerate of Rachel and not being a team player.
I have always been a great team player in any team or organization I’ve been a part of, but when it came to our relationship, I struggled to do the same. I think this holds true for a lot of people. We neglect or take for granted those who are closest to us because we are focusing on what’s outside our inner circle.
How could I make a decision that put our marriage in jeopardy without even getting Rachel’s input? It’s human nature to be self-oriented, but being team-oriented in a marriage is something I needed to conscientiously practice.
If I were given the same opportunity today to climb Everest for the first time, I would undoubtedly say no. Every day, I see the beautiful life I get to live with Rachel, and I would not be willing to risk what we have. I didn’t see or appreciate that back then, but I do now.
While the information we were getting indicated the mountain would reopen for the 2016 climbing season, there was no guarantee, so we were operating on faith that we’d even get a chance to try. It was an exciting time because if we did get the go-ahead, the USX team would be among the first teams to climb once the government reopened the mountain.
RACHEL
Beyond the excitement and adventure was the reality that we had not even been married for a full year, so even though I was supporting him, cheering him on, and helping him in every way I could, did I really want him to go? Definitely not! All my worries of losing him and of possibly being pregnant were intensifying. It was hard to talk with many people about what I was going through because they couldn’t relate. I already had so many people telling me, “Wow. I can’t believe you’re letting him do it. I’d definitely say no.” Since my friends and family couldn’t understand what I was going through, sharing my deep struggles didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.
All this was swirling around inside my heart and mind as we began the process of saying goodbye—or, actually, “See you later, hopefully.” I was dreading that moment at the airport when I’d have to let him go. I was praying that my husband would come home safely and that whatever would happen regarding getting pregnant would be in God’s perfect timing. But to be honest, that was the easy prayer. I wasn’t blindly thinking that if I prayed for Harold to come home safely, I had a guarantee that he would. That wasn’t good enough in my eyes because bad things happen. I needed to let go of my own life and put it in God’s hands, which is funny because you would think I was praying mostly for Harold’s life. In reality, I was praying for my own. I was praying that whatever happened on that mountain, in the end it would all be for God’s glory.
Those last couple of weeks before he left had been so hectic that we’d hardly slept at all. You’d think we would have spent those last days together on a little getaway where we could relax and enjoy each other, but the closer his departure date got, the busier we were.
Harold had interviews with CNN, HLN, the Weather Channel, American Sports Network, and Fox. On media days, our mornings would start around 2:30 a.m. If we were lucky, we would get an hour or two of sleep.
The dirty truth of achieving big dreams is that it requires all of you. Often, people see only the victory at the end. What they don’t see is all the hard work, risks, late nights, struggles, failures, persistence, doubts, discipline, courage, criticism, disappointments, adversity, tears, rejections, sacrifices, and changes along the way. Next time you find yourself comparing someone else’s victory with where you are, remember it was a long road for that person and you may be just starting yours. It’s the road to get there that leads to growth and makes the victory worth celebrating.
HAROLD
On my last day before leaving for Everest, we made our way to my grandmother’s house a few hours north of Fort Benning to get together with my family one last time. It unofficially allowed everyone to say goodbye and “I love you” in case things went south on the mountain. Sort of morbid, but true. While eating dinner, I received an alarming voice mail after missing the call and texts from my company commander.
“Your leave request for Everest has not been approved. You need to come back to base now.”
As it turned out, there was a change in leadership in the chain of command above me and the incoming colonel had to sign off on my trip, so I wasn’t officially on leave yet, even though I had signed out of my unit.
A few days earlier, I had received an official memo from my company commander stating that while he was recommending approval for my request, he wasn’t supportive of it because “climbing Mount Everest is extremely high risk.” He also stated his concern about my sixty-three-day leave, the risk of injury that could affect my training, and the possibility that the rigors of the expedition could leave me unable to qualify for Army Ranger School, which I was scheduled to start soon after I returned. In the end, he still checked approve on my leave form.
Due to this change in command way up the ranks, I was told I needed to come back in immediately, so forty-five minutes into our precious time with family, we abruptly had to leave. Goodbyes and “I love yous” were quick as we rushed out the door and drove two hours back to Fort Benning.
It was 9:52 p.m. when we got word that the trip was finally approved. It was literally the final hours before I would get on my flight and head to China.
May 10, 2016
We are two-thirds up the North Col with sheer drop-offs all around us. Even though we’re surrounded by ice, ironically, it’s hot most of the way up the jagged wall with the sun reflecting off the ice in all directions. The heat is intense and unexpected. I have shed most of my jackets and unzipped my last one so that my bare skin shows. However, in a matter of seven minutes, the weather changes dramatically. A snowstorm blows in, and I scramble to put on all my jackets while gripping the rope that we are still clipped into. There is a sixty-degree temperature change in just moments, with snow blowing in every direction.
We pass a group of Canadian climbers making their descent, a father-son duo among them. Several are struggling. As we carefully unclip carabiners off the ropes, allowing them to pass, we stop and chat a bit with the father, who is trailing at the back of the group. He is a really nice guy with a thick Canadian accent. We share a laugh about how he is looking forward to being back in his warm sleeping bag. Then we press on and soon make it to the top of the ice wall to Camp One. We work our way back to Base Camp, as our acclimatization climb is complete.
The next morning at Base Camp, I wake up to the sound of a Sherpa from another camp yelling for Dave. Word has gotten around that Dave is a doctor and that he regularly helps other international teams diagnose and treat illnesses. This time, the situation seems different. There is an urgency and panic in the Sherpa’s voice. The nice Canadian man we passed yesterday is lying motionless in his tent, his son kneeling next to him. Dave pronounces him dead.
Charles MacAdams, sixty-two years old, died of cardiac exhaustion. Charles was a notable Canadian doctor and leaves a family including grandkids behind.* The surrounding mountains serve as an echo chamber for the son’s cries, which are heard throughout camp, cutting through the morning’s quiet, crisp air.
The rest of the day is solemn and silent. The cries still ring in our ears. Death is in the air. The widow maker has claimed another. This time I feel its grip closing in a little tighter, another reminder of how fast life can change. So much of my experience on Everest will teach me why it’s so important to be thankful for the good in life and to not take for granted what I have, especially the people, because time is unrenewable.
I don’t share this story with Rachel.
* Emma McIntosh, “Calgary Doctor Dies at Everest Base Camp,” Calgary Herald, J
une 3, 2016, https://calgaryherald.com/news/local-news/calgarian-doctor-dies-at-everest-base-camp.
13
Promises I Can’t Keep
HAROLD
We got to the airport early in the morning to depart for Nepal. The day was finally upon us. It was time to say goodbye to my love and embark on the daunting endeavor in front of me.
Rachel and I had spent the weekend running in every direction with last-minute errands, staying up late to pack, and jumping through Army bureaucratic hoops. We’d spent hardly any quality time together. The car ride was quiet, mostly because we were completely exhausted. I was excited, and she acted excited for me, though I could see straight through that she was hurting on the inside. She was being strong for me and tough because the moment required her to be. Rachel’s courage and strength of character shined throughout this lengthy experience.
We stood in line and hugged and kissed for a while. I told her I loved her and just stared into her eyes, with no idea if these were going to be the last fleeting moments I had on earth with my wife. Right before we said goodbye, she gave me “Open when” letters she’d been working on:
Open when…
You get on the plane
You’re cold
You get altitude sickness
You’re halfway through the expedition
You have an awesome day
You need to pray
A Higher Calling Page 10