Heather Macdonald felt reasonably close to Elizabeth when they worked together, but she admitted there was a wall she could not penetrate. However, as Heather grew closer to her, working together day in and day out, she stopped seeing Elizabeth as a “famous Himalayan reporter” and began to relate to her as a friend, someone who could be complimented on her earrings or who would commiserate over computer frustrations: “Her computer would drive her nuts!” Heather thought Elizabeth was selective about who she let in, and she was also convinced that her heart had been broken at some point, perhaps by Jimmy Roberts or Edmund Hillary, and that she subsequently “closed down emotionally.”
Elizabeth admitted she did have strong feelings for Hillary: “Ed is one of my oldest friends and I am one of his greatest admirers. I guess it’s mutual!” But she took care to provide historical context, noting that they had worked together since the mid-1960s, dispensing funds for hospitals, bridges, schools and so on for the people of the Solukhumbu. They had been through a lot together: “Good times, such as the recent 50th anniversary of the first ascent of Mount Everest celebrations … and tragic times, such as when I flew by helicopter to tell him that his wife and daughter had been killed in a plane crash. Sir Edmund Hillary is the finest person I ever met.”
He was effusive about her, too: “I think Liz is a special person … always exceptional. We relied on her. She is a remarkable woman. I have a great respect for Liz and I’m very fond of her.”
Yes, but what of the famous rumoured affair? Elizabeth laughed at the question: “I’m sorry to disabuse anybody – and I’m telling the truth – but we didn’t.” She knew the rumour had been out there for years and thought it stemmed from the fact that Hillary had often been a guest in her apartment and her companion at so many parties. But she insisted: “Believe me, we didn’t.” After his first wife was killed, Elizabeth admitted, there was a brief period when she speculated about what his next move would be. Nonetheless, she confessed, “I’m not the marrying type and I couldn’t have fulfilled the role of diplomat’s wife as beautifully as June has.”
As Elizabeth looked back at her alleged – and real – love life, the only men she would admit to having considered settling down with were Micky Weatherall and Mamoun El Amin. The rest of the rumours – Jimmy Roberts, Eric Shipton, General Mrigendra, Andrzej Zawada, Don Whillans – “It’s a resounding no! There’s nobody else except the ones that I confessed to.” But who can tell? With Elizabeth Hawley there is always more to the story.
With 30-some years of educating herself and apprenticing as a world traveller and curious observer, Elizabeth had prepared herself well for the adventure that awaited her in Nepal. When she flew into Nepal for the presentation of the nation’s first constitution and its first election, she was purposeful about it. She wasn’t going there just to take a look, but to experience an important moment in world history. What she saw was something special; she saw that she could create a life for herself in Nepal that would be unique. She could avoid a life of sameness and obscurity in New York. In fact, she became someone special and important – and needed.
During more than 40 years in Kathmandu, Elizabeth created that unique life. Beginning with her interest in politics, she evolved into a major player in a new kind of travel industry. Her insatiable curiosity brought her into the world of mountaineering, where she became an expert. And through her highly placed contacts and hard work, she greatly influenced the work of the Himalayan Trust. By leaving New York, she became part of a circle that included royalty, prime ministers and explorers. She learned about, and became an important personality in, a global mountaineering community, despite her reluctance to acknowledge its existence. In Nepal she could afford a life of comfort, with a personal staff to attend to all her basic needs. She could entertain lavishly. As Heather Macdonald said, “I couldn’t even dream her life.” All of this took courage; she went to a place in the world at a time when it wasn’t easy for a single woman to make her way. She went with no steady job and no contacts. Like many of the mountaineers she admires, she was a pioneer.
Elizabeth plans to stay in Kathmandu. There are people there who care for her. The next generation is there to support her. There is respect and reverence for the elderly in Nepal and Elizabeth is now one of those people.
She won’t leave Nepal, because she has a purpose there; she has work to do and she’s making a difference. This is what keeps her alive. Her nephew suggests there are many ways of evaluating a life – some people make money and some people make a difference. Elizabeth has made a difference. He added, “I would put her on my list of heroes, and it’s a very short list.”
Always pragmatic, Elizabeth conceded she would leave if the Maoist regime became too difficult or in the extreme event of the city being destroyed by a natural catastrophe, but she added, “What would I do? As long as my health lets me stay on, I want to stay. I want to live independently. I am useless in someone else’s house. I can’t cook. I suppose I could set the table and I do know how to make drinks. I’d just be in the way.” Then, looking at me with dark, steady eyes, she stated, “The jobs I do couldn’t be done anywhere else – it’s Nepal.”
And in that statement I suddenly understood the depth of her love for her adopted country and for the life’s work she has created – and for which she will always be remembered.
EPILOGUE
It was on a sultry July day in 2010 that Elizabeth Hawley was found in her Kathmandu home, lying on the floor and in great pain. Although amnesia erased the fall from her memory, it appeared she had slipped, fracturing her right hip. An ambulance whisked her to the CIWEC clinic, where her hip was successfully repaired. For two weeks she remained at the clinic while the medical personnel monitored her closely.
At the age of 86 Elizabeth had just experienced the first serious injury of her life. The woman who had routinely worked 12-hour days for the past 50 years appeared to have been struck down. Emails sped around the world among her friends and relatives: Elizabeth has fallen. Elizabeth is seriously ill. Elizabeth will not work again.
One year later, Richard Salisbury, her co-author of the Himalayan Database, sent out a message that she was returning to work on her mountaineering records but was confined to her home. Instead of her normal practice of visiting expeditions at their hotels, some expedition leaders were now coming to see her, while others were interviewed over the phone or by her helpers.
A couple of months later Elizabeth was able to meet expeditions in Dilli Bazaar. And with the help of a special cane to move around, she was about to resume hotel visits, as long as there weren’t too many steps. She admitted that steps were an effort, but added, “My orthopaedic surgeon says I’m tough. I say I’m just doing my job. Basically my health is fine.” Salisbury closed his email with the comment, “It appears that her recovery is progressing remarkably well.” And so it was. As she celebrated her 88th birthday in November of 2011, the indomitable Miss Hawley was back at it, although at a slower pace.
During the months that passed between her accident and her return to work, many in the mountaineering community continued the debate that had begun years earlier, about the value of her work, the importance of a succession plan and the future of mountaineering record-keeping.
Eberhard Jurgalski, founder and author of www.8000ers.com, a website devoted to recording a vast amount of information on the high mountains of Asia, including mountaineering activity, was seriously concerned about the future of her work. “For so many years Miss Hawley has been collecting and sorting all the facts about attempts and ascents on mountains in Nepal and on its borders! I know many mountaineers admire her for all this passionate work.” He worried that the same accuracy would be lost in the years to come if a qualified and devoted replacement could not be found for Elizabeth. “Let’s hope that the life’s work of this great woman will be continued in the future in her spirit,” he urged.
But others were not so generous. Some in the climbing community did not see a ne
ed to find a successor for Elizabeth and in fact didn’t see value in her work at all. Although no one wanted to be quoted, some found serious gaps in her record-keeping. In particular, they felt that her refusal to record ascents made without permission from the Government of Nepal was an indefensible stance, from the standpoint of both journalist and historian. They felt she was out of touch with the entire concept of alpine-style climbing in the Himalaya when she insisted that adventure climbers fill out the same forms as someone doing a commercial or guided climb of Ama Dablam. Describing camps, predetermined bivouac sites, planned descent routes, even planned ascent routes, held little value for a climber heading off on a true adventure climb. All of these details were unknown at the outset, and Elizabeth seemed unable to grasp this aspect of climbing. Some climbers felt she was still too focused on the giants, Everest in particular. “I don’t think she will be replaced,” was a common comment.
Yet, when asked about alpine-style climbing and the future of the sport, Elizabeth’s attitude revealed something different. “There are climbers of 6000ers and 7000ers who are doing interesting things, despite the fact that they don’t get all the publicity that they would receive from climbing Kangchenjunga, Everest or K2,” she said. “Those who go to these ‘lesser mountains’ have to be prepared to attempt something for the love of it, and perhaps for the respect of their fellow mountaineers rather than for the world, and definitely not to attract rich sponsorship.” She rattled off the climbers who she felt were advancing the standards of Himalayan climbing, those worth watching: Denis Urubko from Kazakhstan, the American David Gottlieb, Nick Bullock from the UK and Swiss mountaineer Üeli Steck. But of the really impressive climbing achievements of her career, she cited just a few, with the first traverse of Annapurna I’s summit ridge by Jean-Christophe Lafaille and Alberto Iñurrategi in the spring of 2002 as the very best.
Reinhold Messner weighed in with his opinion about the value of her work and the future without her: “Elizabeth Hawley is unique. I don’t think anyone else could succeed her.” But he had more to say about climbing in Nepal. “Time is changing. Climbing is becoming a sport: indoor climbing, skyrunning, ski racing on 8000 m and more. Let it happen – without Liz and me!”
A group of Americans, including Richard Salisbury, Ray Huey and Everest pioneer Tom Hornbein, took a more practical approach as they began brainstorming about how Elizabeth’s workload could be lightened and how she could begin mentoring a replacement. They understood the problems of obtaining a work visa, the incredible commitment of time and the unlikelihood that a replacement could “hit the ground running.” Elizabeth had grown into her job over five decades, accumulating knowledge and experience and an impressive network of influential and helpful contacts. An equally qualified replacement was unlikely.
Elizabeth outlined the job requirements of her ideal successor: has permission to live in Nepal, either by being a citizen or a foreigner who has additional work that entitles them to an annual visa and provides an adequate income to meet living expenses; has an excellent command of oral and written English; knows something about climbing or is really interested in learning about it quickly; has a means of transportation and a telephone; and is a self-starter and self-reliant. Quite a comprehensive package!
The concerned Americans felt that changes in technology might ease the transition for the continuation of Elizabeth’s work. Some information could be gathered electronically rather than through the personal meetings Elizabeth insisted on doing. Perhaps only the unusual or groundbreaking climbs would require the in-depth interviews that Elizabeth routinely conducted. But Elizabeth insisted that face-to-face meetings were important. “I believe it is essential for us to meet someone from an expedition when they come back from their climbs. Body language is important, and if we think that something they tell us is odd or just plain wrong, we can follow up with further questions immediately and check with other teams returning from the same mountain at the same time.” Back to the drawing board for the Americans.
While the historians reviewed the options and possibilities, Elizabeth reminisced about her recent years in Kathmandu. In 2008 she retired from her post as part-time correspondent for Reuters News Agency, for which she had reported since 1962. Their need for mountaineering news dispatches was no longer there. Then, in 2010, she retired after serving for 20 years as New Zealand’s first honorary consul in Nepal.
And of course there were the deaths, the ongoing list of climbers she had known who had died in the mountains they loved. She had reported on all of them, some who were strangers and others who had been her friends: Jean-Christophe Lafaille on Makalu in 2006; Tomaž Humar on Langtang Lirung in 2009; Erhard Loretan in the Alps in 2011; and of course her dear friend Sir Edmund Hillary in January of 2008.
The last time she left Nepal was for Sir Edmund’s funeral in New Zealand. As she described it, “His 88-year-old body had worn out and his heart stopped.” The details of his state funeral in Auckland remain clear to Elizabeth, from the dignitaries, diplomats and foreign notables to the three servicemen who were enlisted to carry his many awards on cushions into the church. She described the servicemen posted at each corner of his casket, their guns reversed and heads bowed, standing motionless for 20 minutes at a time before being relieved by another. Flags flew at half-mast throughout the country for New Zealand’s “living icon,” a term Hillary had hated. A cartoon in an Auckland daily paper showed the gates to heaven shut with a sign reading “Closed for Bereavement.” The public filed past his coffin at the rate of 475 people an hour, throughout the entire night. All of New Zealand seemed to come to a halt the morning of his funeral. After the service, crowds lined the streets in the drizzle as his cortege proceeded to the crematorium. Most of his ashes were scattered in Auckland’s harbour, but a small portion was taken to Kathmandu to be carried to Khumbu’s cultural heart, the Buddhist monastery at Thyangboche, by its rinpoche, or abbot.
Elizabeth had worked with Hillary since 1965, even before his Himalayan Trust was founded, and she was with him at the signing of the Trust’s first agreement with the Nepalese government in 1972. She filled in for him at the Trust when he was away from Kathmandu, and of course since his death. His impact on her life was huge. “He lived by his very high ethical standards,” she recalled. “He did an immense amount of good for other people and he greatly enjoyed doing it. He loved a good laugh, enjoyed his Scotch and ginger ale and was by no means an aloof person.” In summary, she added, “Hillary was the finest man I ever knew.”
Despite the many personal losses over the years, and the restrictions to her movement, Elizabeth remains committed to her work, although she is beginning to accept that it may be done a little differently in the future. She has guarded and protected her working style fiercely in her years at the helm, and that style has been part of the Hawley mystique. Her strong personality defines her work, but as she ages and the sharp edges of her character soften somewhat, her tolerance for change grows. Of all the many jobs she has done in Nepal, she insists that she is still doing the two she has enjoyed the most: chronicling expeditions in the Nepalese Himalaya and working for Sir Edmund Hillary’s Himalayan Trust. But she has some concerns. “Without Sir Ed, the Himalayan Trust is changing,” she explains. It is currently run by a board of four members, who have just written its first constitution and are demanding more written reports about the trust’s work in Nepal and generally making it more organized and formal. “But I’m still there, seeing where the money goes,” she said.
If there is one thing that the indomitable Elizabeth Hawley is firm about, it’s that Nepal is her home. She has made a life there and she plans to die there. “This has been my home since September 1960, and I am out of touch with the constant changes that have occurred in the U.S., despite the fact that I read the International Herald Tribune daily. I would not feel at home anywhere else,” she explained. “Besides,” she says, with a twinkle in her eye, “I don’t know how to cook.”
ELIZABETH
’S FIRST VEHICLE: A WOODEN THREE-WHEELER.
COURTESY OF THE MICHAEL AND MEG LEONARD COLLECTION
YOUNG ELIZABETH ON THE FAMILY’S VERMONT PROPERTY.
COURTESY OF THE MICHAEL AND MEG LEONARD COLLECTION
ELIZABETH AND HER FRIEND BARBARA ON THE STEPS OF “THE MOST EXPENSIVE HOTEL IN NICE,” THE NEGRESCO, ON A PHOTO POSTCARD ELIZABETH SENT HOME OCTOBER 25, 1950.
COURTESY OF THE MICHAEL AND MEG LEONARD COLLECTION
ELIZABETH ENJOYING A DRINK AND THE SCENERY AT THE BRITISH EMBASSY BUNGALOW, KAKANI, DECEMBER 1975.
COURTESY OF THE MICHAEL AND MEG LEONARD COLLECTION
ELIZABETH ON A TRIP INTO RURAL NEPAL IN 1964 WITH KING MAHENDRA.
COURTESY OF THE ELIZABETH HAWLEY COLLECTION
PORTRAIT OF ELIZABETH AS A YOUNG WOMAN.
COURTESY OF THE MICHAEL AND MEG LEONARD COLLECTION
ELIZABETH CHATTING, AFTER A PARADE, WITH LT. GEN. SURENDRA BAHADUR SHAHA, CHIEF-OF-STAFF OF THE ROYAL NEPAL ARMY. KATHMANDU, OCTOBER 24, 1963.
COURTESY OF THE ELIZABETH HAWLEY COLLECTION
ELIZABETH WITH UNITED PRESS INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENT BHOLA RANA AND POLISH CLIMBER ANDRZEJ ZAWADA.
COURTESY OF THE ELIZABETH HAWLEY COLLECTION
ELIZABETH’S FIRST CAR, PARKED IN FRONT OF HER KATHMANDU APARTMENT.
COURTESY OF THE ELIZABETH HAWLEY COLLECTION
ELIZABETH WITH SIR EDMUND HILLARY AND INGER LISSANEVITCH (BORIS’S WIFE) AT PHAPHLU HOSPITAL, JANUARY 1976.
Keeper Of The Mountains Page 27