Messner e venuta!

My friend Bob from the athletic club just looked at me with a  blank stare and said,” I don’t know who that is.” “Reinhold Messner, the mountain climber?” I repeated. “Maybe I should but I’ve never heard of him.” Bob lives in the woods on the Olympic Peninsula. He’s hiked and trekked around the world.  It just seemed he would know the most famous mountaineer since Sir Edmund Hillary.

Now that I think of it, though, sports circles are pretty tight.  On the inside, the tiniest detail is food for discussion amongst the initiated. But still there are people who don’t know Jeff Gordon, David Beckham, Derek Jeter, Kobe Bryant or, dare I say, Russell Wilson. Regardless, Reinhold Messner is coming to Seattle next week for an appearance on behalf of his sponsor Adidas and the Mountaineers.  His climbing achievements are historic. First to climb Mt. Everest without supplemental oxygen (for you non-clumbers that’s carrying bottled oxygen and a respirator to breathe more freely above 26,000 feet, which most high altitude climbers do.) ; first to solo climb Everest without supplemental oxygen and first to climb the world’s 14 highest peaks over 8,000 meters (26,000 feet). He’s a prolific writer with over 60 books in his vitae. He was a member of European Parliament. With over 100 first ascents to his credit, Messner even had the admiration of my friend Ed Hillary. And that is saying something.

Messner’s talk here next week will be a reunion of sorts. In the 80’s and 90’s, I was fortunate to step into that inner circle of climbers, thanks to my kindred spirit, Lou Whittaker, the dean of guiding in America. Tent mates on my first adventure to Mt. Everest were both members of that elite club.  John Roskelley, who like Messner, is a recipient of the Piolet d’Or (the Golden Ice Axe), alpinism’s most coveted prize, and one of this country’s most accomplished mountaineers; and Jim Wickwire whose climbing achievements including the first American ascent of K2, the world’s second highest and judged by many to be the most difficult of the big ones, have been chronicled in feature films, documentaries a Broadway play, numerous books and National Geographic. Jim and John are northwesterners and have become close friends over the years. Jim will introduce Messner before he speaks and will be the emcee for the night.  John, on the other hand, will have a dialogue with Reinhold to cap off the evening.

First contact with Reinhold for me was when I created an event called the Mountain Summit. It stemmed from the mainstream US media paying more attention to the climbing world.  I brought the mountain friends I had made and the media that I worked with together in a gathering to discuss issues such as access to mountain wildernesses. It was in no way on the same scale but similar to the world gatherings in Davos, Switzerland. The event moved around, even to Tokyo, and drew major media such as TIME magazine, National Geographic, USA Today, the New York Times and many more.  Even Robert Redford took notice of what we were doing and asked to host the event at Sundance.  

Climbers from all over the world came to the Mountain Summit. I thought if Doug Scott and Chris Bonington (ever heard of those names?) could come, why not Reinhold Messner.  So I decided to invite him. Reinhold is Italian (Messner a venuta!) and lives in a South Tyrolian castle that he bought for $15,000. The locals said a crazy man has bought a wall of stone. Believe me, it is not a pile of rocks. A castle with a phone seemed a bit odd even then but he answered. “Messner” he said, with sort of an echo. He was very gracious and, after I dropped a few of the right names, he agreed to participate in one of our meetings. Once there, he jumped in with both feet and he was hooked.  He returned several times and brought his wife Sabine with him.  He always came prepared to make us think.  At the Mountain Summit, he introduced the concept of the “White Wilderness”, which are the blank spots on the map. There is nothing there and man should keep it that way was his mantra. The White Wilderness holds more meaning now than ever.

I like Reinhold. He’s thoughtful, opinionated, interesting and even funny if you give him half a chance.  He’s bigger than life and one of those people that you would like to meet but never expect to. And suddenly there he is and he’s just what you hoped he’d be. Mostly, he’s a lover of the mountains.  He respects them as I do. He echoes Ed Hillary’s call for limiting access to mountains like Mount Everest, which I helped Hillary promote. Reinhold and I connected. We talked about writing which both of us like to do.  He’s written every word in those 60-plus books. He told me that writing was the best way for him record the details of his adventures and doing that made him better at it.  I couldn’t agree more.

His trip here is being tagged onto his keynote address to the American Alpine Club in New York the day before. I hope and expect that you will read or hear about his visit before the weekend is over. Coverage of his talk will likely be buried under an avalanche of Super Bowl reporting. If you have tickets to hear Reinhold, consider yourself lucky. The event has long been sold out. I guarantee that I will be there listening to three people that I have great respect and admiration for and hoping that their messages of freedom and conservation of the mountains of the world will be heard loud and clear. Messner, Roskelley and Wickwire, three names I will never forget. All three have helped changed the world of the outdoors and my world, as well.

Standing tall together...

Today's horrific events in Paris bring me back to a quote about freedom that I remember from school days. It has stuck with me over the years. It seems imperative for us all to stand tall together.

"First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me." Pastor Martin Niemoller

A New Year for All

Marking the New Year is a global celebration.  It’s the most widely celebrated public holiday and its most important significance is time, remembering the past year and looking to the future. The New Year is a fresh start for everyone everywhere and what’s better than that.

Spending most of my career in places other than home, it’s been an exciting trip to see people in other cities and countries revel in the New Year. I've brought in the New Year on every continent except Antarctica and in most of the major cities in the world First to celebrate as the timeline moves around the world are New Zealand and Australia. In Sydney, we bobbed on a cruising yacht in the harbor as the famous bridge exploded in color. People lined the streets and the waterfront and cheered for half an hour non-stop.Auckland celebrates in the center of the city where there is a large magnificent park. They make an evening of it with concerts going into very late (or early) hours..

The Eiffel Tour lights up the City of Light. It’s a show to marvel…only rivaled by the Space Needle, in my mind. The streets are filled. Champagne is flowing freely and just around the corner you expect to see the characters from Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris. It’s a real treat.

Hogmanay is what they call it in Scotland and it’s a party. For three days the Scots celebrate in the hills around Edinburgh, in the castles and on every street in the city. Tradition dictates that the” first foot” over your threshold in the New Year will bring you good luck, should it come from a tall, dark stranger bringing whisky and shortbread…especially scotch whisky…and the cookies ain’t bad either.  I’ve had to play that part while watching one of my all-time favorite Celts, Dougie MacLean, play his music in the Great Hall above the city.  Very special.

New York is pure American. Big, loud and boisterous. If you can get more people in the space of Times Square, it would be a miracle.  It’s quite a party and you know you’ve done it when you drag yourself into bed sometime very, very early in the morning. Start spreading the news…

The spectacular fireworks at the Space Needle in Seattle have become the cornerstone of the celebration on the west coast of America. The landmark is so iconic. With almost half a million watching in person from the grounds of Seattle Center and from their homes in surrounding neighborhoods, it’s a heart-stopping 8-minutes that erupts in Seahawk-like cheers that can be heard from one end of the town to the other when it’s over. Can give you chills.

The warmth of the Hawaiian Islands brings the international celebration to a close. It’s hard to tell that it’s midnight because everything happens on “island time”, which means “whenever”. But it does happen. Hawaii is a lot about family and that’s where you see the celebrating going on. On Kauai Island, the Waimea Holiday Parade kicks things off and it’s one of those real hometown parades…high school bands, cheerleaders, karate school students, the Island Rotary Club float and BIG semi-trucks with more LED’s than you can count. Carport parties mark New Year’s Eve.  Almost every house has a carport and every one is filled with family and friends along with delicious food and drink…fresh coconut milk will go with most anything, I might add. We were eating dinner at one of the Island’s nicest restaurants when the cooks began throwing firecrackers on the grill. That’ll bring you out of your seat.  You have to be ready for anything in the islands.  It’s a big finish.

No matter where you are though, New Year’s is people enjoying themselves with those they love close around.  It’s a comforting feeling and great way to mark time. In a world that never stops moving and a time where communication brings us all right next door to each other, there is solace in a celebration that has no message or politics except that we're all in this together...we've made it through another year...and now we're heading into a mostly unknown and uncertain future together. What an adventure.  Happy New Year, wishing us all health, happiness and heart.

Justice is served...

You may remember that a year ago last August, I was assaulted by a bicyclist while in my car at rush hour. Well the sun is shining through the clouds today for me because my attacker has been apprehended by police and convicted and sentenced by our court system. Thanks goes out to a concerned citizen who had heard about the attack, knew the person and turned him in to the police. It was the fact that he put children in danger by coming after me that prompted his identification.

The Seattle Police Department also gets my thanks for continuing to purse this incident. They are dealing with a lot of really bad things out there and my case could easily have remained at the bottom of the stack. But they stayed on it until an arrest was made. I am told by the court that I can but I am not naming him here. First because I am just pleased that he did not get away with this treacherous act after he smugly rode off into traffic and, mostly, because I would rather have the word "Stupid" tattooed on his forehead. That aside, his name is a matter of public record now and can easily be found.

He plead guilty in court to the charge of assault and received a one year suspended sentence during which he must complete an anger management course; do a number of hours of community service and have no other criminal activity. He has a permanent restraining order from any contact with me and, of particular significance, he will have this conviction on his record for the rest of his life.

The court contacted me several times during the past year and, after he was arrested and entered his guilty plea, I was asked to write how the incident had affected me. My statement will be used by the judge in his sentencing.  The statement follows here. Based on the elements of his sentence that the City Attorney's Office shared with me, it seems the judge and I feel much the same way about it.

It is good to put this incident behind me and I hope nothing like it happens to you or to me again. Still, there are slightly deranged people like this out there who cannot control their anger and may be a threat to others while out in public.  Be careful.

Victim Impact Statement for the Judge

Irresponsible and reckless are the best things I can say about this man. He was weaving down the middle of a side street, working hard to pull a double tandem carrier behind his bike. I was driving toward him, being forced to move as far to the right as possible to stay out of his way.  He yelled at me to “Move over”. I said “You should move over” and drove on.  He followed me for more than a quarter of a mile through rush hour traffic endangering himself and his children in the carrier.  He pulled up to my car at a stoplight, between lanes of traffic, said “How dare you” and completely unprovoked, punched me in the face through the open window. He then rode off into the rush hour crowd. I went to the emergency room at Swedish Hospital on Capitol Hill, getting stitches in my upper and lower lips and ointment for my bruised face. I later saw my dentist who told me that my upper teeth were loose from the blow but would be alright.

This man needs help. At the very least, he needs anger management counseling. Perhaps his mental health should be checked, as well.  If the children were his, he put his family in danger unnecessarily and should meet with Child Protective Services for a review.  I want this felonious assault on his permanent record so that anyone who employs him or works with him knows that he is unstable and a danger to his children and others around him.

His actions were entirely uncalled for and he deserves a very serious sentence. Whether he was on a bike or any other wheeled transportation, he instigated a very dangerous situation.  My wife feels that my restless sleeping and bouts of insomnia since that time are due to this incident. However, my doctor does not have a concern at this point.  My visits to the emergency room and the dentist were covered by my insurance.  It is therefore not necessary to seek monetary restitution.

I want this man to know that his uncontrolled actions were completely out of bounds and perilous. He handled this situation precariously and in a very unsafe manner.  I can only hope that I never encounter such a treacherous person again.  He does not deserve to be using our streets.

I must commend the Seattle Police Department for taking this case seriously. And were it not for a concerned citizen, this man would never have been apprehended. I will not hesitate to thank them publicly for their diligence in bringing him to justice.

Speaking of turkeys

My father was a hunter.  When I was very young, I thought it was because he was in the army. But once I reached school age, I realized he’d been hunting all his life.  If we were stationed anywhere within a reasonable distance, we spent most Thanksgivings on the family farm while I was in school. Friday morning the men would go out hunting rabbits and birds.  Frankly, I didn't have much interest in killing small animals but I wore the coat and carried the gun to look the part.

In my father’s later years, after hunting just about everything but what Africans call big game, he had one item on this bucket list. He wanted, as he put it, to “harvest” a turkey. After retiring from military/government service in Washington, DC, he returned with my mom to Indiana, where they both had siblings still living. 

The McConnell family farm had been sold but my mother's clan still owned acreage and livestock in the western part of the state. The woods on their farm became my dad's sanctuary. He tried bow hunting for deer, with no luck. He built a blind in a tree to watch for game but he fell asleep there one day and fell out of the tree.  He dragged himself to his truck and drove to the hospital.  After that, he stopped sitting in trees with a gun across his lap and bought a cell phone.

It was on the farm that he first caught sight of the turkey.  The bird walked proudly across the open field and seemed to know exactly where he was going. He was quite a specimen.  Dad said you could judge a turkey by his beard and this one had a very long black beard, a sign of maturity and stature in the bird world...so I'm told.

Dad watched the turkey for months and finally named him Clarence.  Why Clarence? I guess I'll never know. Dad just said Clarence this and Clarence that and we accepted it. The bird had his route and each day he would come and go the same way with Dad studying every move and nuance.

We never knew exactly when Dad shot Clarence.  He took the bird directly to the taxidermist. I prefer to think that we didn't eat him for Thanksgiving dinner when the bird showed up at Christmas time as proud as ever, showing off that big long beard, sitting right next to the fireplace, nice and warm.

The battle of man versus beast can be an honorable undertaking. I support the native Americans view of the hunt and the respect they have for their conquests. That drew me to the Na'vi in the movie Avatar, as well. My dad and Clarence had an understanding.  There was a meeting of the minds.  My father was an honorable man and I choose to believe that his "harvest" was at least in part a spiritual one. Clarence looked at peace with the world. And so did my father.

It was 50 years ago today...

 

How many times have you heard that phrase in the past couple of years? I’ve heard it a lot and that got me thinking.  The “Turbulent Sixties” weren’t all that turbulent. Not the first half of the decade, anyway. In fact, from President Kennedy’s election in 1960 through LBJ signing the Civil Rights Act of 1964, it was one of the all-time great periods in our country’s history…even better than Twitter.

Most of what has happened to us in the past half century was greatly influenced by the early 1960's. We entered the Space Age then and Star Trek first appeared on our television screens. President Kennedy kicked off the Space Race and, not long after, John Glenn circled the earth three times and we were off to the moon.

It was exciting to be an American. We made an American car that was the envy of the world, the Ford Mustang.  We introduced the touchtone telephone and the microwave oven at the Seattle World's Fair and communication and frozen food have been improving ever since. Speaking of the World's Fair, it propelled Seattle into the global spotlight and made many people outside this country very envious of our little Northwest corner of the world.

For me and the millions of other "Boomers", that period of time set the stage for how our lives would play out...the influences, concerns and opportunities were all fresh and new. The "Caution.." statement went on every pack of cigarettes. For the first time, the condition of our environment became a focus for us. Bob Dylan debuted in Greenwich Village and then there was the Beatles. Our early musical influences were taking form.

It was amazing when Willie Mays signed the largest baseball contract in history for $100,000...imagine that, $100,000 (baseball players were the highest paid professional athletes in our country at that time). And my hero, Mickey Mantle, and Roger Maris battled each other to break Babe Ruth's "unbreakable" record of 60 homeruns...and Maris hit 61, legitimately, no extra games, no steroids, he just did it.

MLK won the Nobel Peace Prize. The Peace Corps started then, giving school kids like me a fresh look at the world beyond our shores. Add Johnny Carson taking over the Tonight Show and Dr. No showing up with Sean Connery and Ursula Andress in the first James Bond movie and you're starting to get the idea of what kind of an impression this period made on us.

In some ways, this second decade of the new millennium has certain elements of those glory days 50 years ago. My friend and fellow "Boomer" Sally Jewell, now Madam Secretary of the Interior, often says that one of the main societal influences we are coping with is the transfer of power from the Boomers to the Millennials. With us in the Boomer Boat are Bill and Hillary Clinton, President Obama, Bono, Michael Jordan, Princess Diana, George Clooney, Bill Gates,  J.K. Rowling, Stephen Colbert and Wynton Marsalis. Pretty good company.

The past half century has changed the world and changed us. The early 60's gave us hope and now we seem to have lost it.  The spirit that came from the youth back then propelled us into frontiers of the unknown.  This new generation has got to lead on something besides technology. When all is done you end up with the people. 50 years ago today, the people had the fire. We've got to stick together and make things work.

The Poppies Grow...

A guy in a VFW hat was selling poppies at the Fred Meyer store on Sunday. He seemed a little like the lone Girl Scout on the last day of the cookie sale because I used to see groups from the Veterans of Foreign Wars selling them on every street corner downtown around Veterans Day. And vets were proud to wear them. This holiday has a different name in other countries…Remembrance Day in the British Commonwealth and Europe.  But everywhere, it’s a day to honor and remember those who have served their country in times of war. It’s a day for the living.

Our country has been fighting in the Middle East since 1990. Almost 25 years have gone by with little progress being made on the political front. One tiny bright spot shines through those two and a half decades and that is the gain in our respect for those who have been in the service during wartime. Tens of thousands have been deployed and returned. An entire generation of young people, men and women, over 2.5 million, have served in the Middle East conflicts. To me that’s a staggering number.

Everyone who serves is not a hero.  That word is a bit over-used these days. But everyone who serves is worthy of our allegiance for their commitment. My grandfather volunteered during World War I but was turned down for flat-feet. He always regretted it. My father volunteered for WWII and served in the European Theater, including the D-Day invasion on June 6. He made a life-long career of it.

When I had the McConnell Company, we always took November 11 off…because I am a veteran and I got to decide. Many companies don’t recognize it as a holiday today. That bothers me. It’s a day of remembrance that most of our world shares. Its origin is from the signing of the armistice that ended World War I, the war to end all wars. It was the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month.

The poppies have become a symbol of that day almost 100 years ago when the world was at peace. “In Flanders Fields the poppies grow…” a poem written by a Canadian soldier, sparked the movement to recognize that day and those who have served. I’ve been to Flanders Fields and plan to go again soon, mostly to honor my father and his service. This year marks the anniversary of the day he walked under the Arc de Triomphe with hundreds of other Allied troops after they liberated Paris from Nazi tyranny. A time for celebration.

I am always moved to write on Veterans Day. Growing up in a military family instills a certain spirit in many children, as it did in me. My father was a role model in many ways but he and I had very different views about a lot of things…just not about serving your country. This place we call home is not perfect but it’s worth fighting for, if it comes to that. Keep your eyes out for those poppies, young and old. Wish the wearers a good day and tell them you’re proud of their service.  They deserve it.