The Power of Stories

See, broken things always have a story to tell, don’t they?” – Sara Pennypacker

Shortly after I returned from Everest Base Camp in 2001, I went with my dad to hear Beck Weathers speak. Anyone that has read Jon Krakauer’s book Into Thin Air or any of the other books about the 1996 disaster on Everest, is probably familiar with his story. Here’s my abridged version:

Beck was a pathologist from Texas that was climbing in New Zealand guide Rob Hall’s group during the 1996 Everest climbing season. He was high up on the mountain nearing the top when he went snow blind. So, Rob dug out a spot for him to sit and wait until Rob summitted with the other clients and returned for him.

Rob never returned for him because Rob died trying to help another climber and didn’t adhere to his turn-around time, the time when they needed to go back down no matter whether they’d summitted or not. But one of the other guides from Beck’s group came by and now that the storm was descending, Beck went down with them to Camp 4. They got within 150 yards of the camp but couldn’t find it in the blizzard conditions. As they circled in the storm, Beck just fell over and they left him lying in the snow. He laid there for 15 hours at 26,000 feet during a storm with his face and hand exposed.

And then he miraculously “woke up” and managed to make his way to camp. The other climbers were in complete disarray after the storm and were shocked to see him. They helped him into a tent – and then left him there, expecting that he’d die during the night. As Beck screamed because he couldn’t eat, drink or even keep himself covered with sleeping bags, they couldn’t hear him over the howling winds.

Beck didn’t die that night so the next morning the other climbers rallied to find a way to help him down the mountain as he was suffering frostbite to his hands, arm and face. He was short-roped (pretty much tied right to) a dream team of amazing climbers, Ed Viesturs and David Breashears. Ed and David weren’t from Beck’s group but were up there filming a Imax film about Everest and had aborted their climb to help others.

The Dream Team got Beck down to 20,000 feet where a helicopter that was rallied by Beck’s wife in Texas attempted to land. The air is so thin that the helicopter rotor blades could barely keep the machine aloft and to even try to do this once, the pilot off-loaded every bit of weight that he could. He was on the knife-edge of not making it when he came over the ridge to find the landing pad the Dream Team had marked with red Kool-aid.

And just as Beck is about to get on the helicopter, a climber who has more severe injuries from the Taiwanese team arrived. The helicopter could only take one person and Beck gave up his seat to the more injured climber. Beck assumed he’d just signed his death warrant because he couldn’t make it through the Khumbu icefall with his injuries, not even with the Dream team’s help because they’d have to cross huge blocks of ice on ladders. As he’s contemplating this, the helicopter rose one more time over the ridge – the pilot came back for Beck.

Beck lost his arm from his elbow down plus all the fingers on his other hand and parts of his feet. He had a prosthetic nose that they grew for 6 months on his forehead. He could never work as a pathologist again. He wrote a book called Left for Dead that recounts with detail those four times he was left for dead on Everest and began a second career as an inspirational speaker.

Sitting in the front row, I was transfixed watching Beck tell his story. Great story-tellers have a way of raising questions in us that have nothing to do with Mt. Everest. As author Brandon Mull said, “Sharp people learn from their mistakes. But the real sharp ones learn from the mistakes of others.”

Have you ever pursued a goal so obsessively you gave up everything else? Would you be able to keep going after being left for dead? Would you give up your seat to someone else that’s more injured or give up your IMAX filming to help someone else? Have you been able to find your way to a new career?

(featured photo from Pexels)

49 thoughts on “The Power of Stories

  1. Thank you for this brief version of the famous story, and for making me want to read it in full, Wynne. As to what one would do in that situation or any other extreme one, I think we are most honest with ourselves if we say, “I don’t know.”

    The Stoics always reminded us that one does not know who he is until he has been tested. Beck’s bravery and self-sacrifice leaves me without more words.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Great point about seeing who we are when we are tested. Speaking for myself, I see the little tests that I face adding up when I face big moments.

      As to Beck’s story – it is such a good one. To sit in the front row and hear him tell it? Wow! But the book is also good.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I love this story…and the fact that you were with your dad when you heard Beck speak? There’s some extra magic in that…bearing witness and being in Beck’s presence WITH your dad. A moment. On top of many in your post. 💕

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  3. This is a terrifying and really difficult story to read Wynne. The emotions and consequences of choices here seem astronomical. Honestly, I couldn’t even predict what I might do, or not do and honestly, I’m glad that I don’t have to.

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  4. OMG, it’s difficult to imagine a more compelling or horrifying story. No, I’ve never felt that compulsively about anything, although I can imagine becoming compulsive about protecting a disabled child. And I cannot in a million years imagine leaving someone to die because I was filming. A job vs a life??! Or taking advantage of a rescue at the expense of someone who needs it more???! Wow. How very, very sad.

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    1. Oh Jane, perhaps I wasn’t clear on those points. Ed Viesturs and David Breashears gave up their filming to help Beck. And Beck gave up his spot on the helicopter sent for him to the more injured climber. There were several selfless moments that all came together to make it so both of those climbers survived.

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      1. Phew, that’s good. Maybe I shouldn’t read this stuff in a drug-induced state! I took in the “left to die” a few times and then your questions and clearly made the wrong connections. Sorry, nuff said, although not everything sounded all that selfless.

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  5. What a gripping story, Wynne. Very tenacious and lucky, despite the outcome on parts of his body.

    I agree that stories have such power to move. And I love whenever you share climbing stories as they are great metaphors for life itself!

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  6. I’ve been focused and goal oriented in my life, but not to the extent you mention. I know I got pretty career focused for awhile where it ranked pretty high and hit on my self-esteem . . . but fortunately, I learned my lesson and soon backed away. Thank goodness. In the end, it’s an obsession and obsessions are crazy things. You’ve got to watch them. They take over our priorities. Interesting look Wynee.

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  7. This is a very powerful story! I read it before and am just as awed as the first time you had posted it.

    You asked, “Have you ever pursued a goal so obsessively you gave up everything else?”

    I didn’t, but my second husband did. We had formed a production company with another couple to make feature films, specifically starting with a screenplay my husband had written. Both men ended up losing their minds in the pursuit of this goal, even when it was well past time to give it up they dug in deeper, costing them each their marriages and relationships with their children. My husband ended up with Dementia, in a permanent state in a care facility where he thought he was on a film set making his film. Sometimes the cost of a dream is too much.

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    1. Wow, I’d heard some of that story of your 2nd husband before but not the part where his dementia included believing he was on a film set making his film. Doesn’t that speak volumes about obsessions!!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. True, it is quite powerful, when one considers that most dementia patients forget the most recent things in their lives and progressively remember only the things further and further back. The fact that his brain told him he was living on a movie set is probably a strong signifier of his obsession.

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  8. Wow. Hats off to Beck! He’s the opposite of a loser, baby. I truly admire that kind of grit, but I don’t know if I could do the same. I’d like to think so, but I imagine you never really know for sure until you’re in a situation like that. Being as how I never plan to climb Everest, I suppose I’ll never truly know how I would react.

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    1. So true about Beck. I wonder had it not been the year that Jon Krakauer climbed and wrote about it for Outside if we’d even know the story. One of the guides that died, Rob Hall, was very well-liked and because he was patched through on an open radio to his wife in New Zealand as they named the baby she was pregnant with and everyone on the mountain heard, it was an epic and heart-breaking story. Not everyone came out looking heroic though. But you’re right – we’ll never know.

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