Today is a typical summer Sunday in paradise; this morning we drove out to
our favourite beach; I plunged into the pristine Pacific surf, and wallowed
for the best part of half an hour.

I returned to the sand, and laid in the sun in quiet contemplation.

The beach was not overly crowded - a few dozen sun-seekers maxing their tans
and fishermen trying their luck; but no overt exuberance on display.

I few hundred kilometres to the south and west, a couple of crazy young men
arrived in NZ having paddled their canoe from Australia, and though some
40,000 people were on the beach to welcome and congratulate them on their
feat, they, in themselves were sad, because the one person who they wished
to meet was absent.

You see, Ed is dead!

To most of the world, Sir Edmund Hillary was simply the first man to reach
the summit of the Everest, and return.

To the Nepalese people, he attained an almost god-like stature, not because
of his climbing exploits, but because, upon his return from the mountain
tops, when he could have used his instant fame to make a personal fortune,
most of the money he earned went back to the Nepalese people.
Sir Ed established the Himalayan Trust in 1960 to battle poverty in the
mountain villages of Nepal. The trust has built three hospitals, 13 health
clinics, more than 30 schools, and bridges and roads.

To New Zealand, he was a hero - and he became "our mountain".

As a boy, I recall listening to the "wireless" when almost on cue, during
the coronation of Queen Elizabeth 2, an excited NZ Prime Minister announced
to the country that the NZer (Hillary) had conquered Everest.

In later years, I was spellbound when this adventurer drove a modified farm
tractor to the South Pole.

Later still, the adventurer became a diplomat and humanitarian.

Through my entire adult life, somewhere "out there" was Ed Hillary: unlike
most other adults, I knew that superman was real, and was a Kiwi.

And what made him real was the fact that, though he could have lead a life
in the stars, he chose, forever, to keep his feet on the ground.

His name and address appeared in the Auckland phone directory: he often
answered his own phone; speaking at length with a child who dared call to
get assistance with a school project.

Sir Edmund liked a drink: no doubt at State functions or at Her Majesty's
garden parties, he would have consumed the finest of wines - he preferred
Jameson's Irish Whiskey.

I never met Ed, but know others who did. He was just bloody good company
with an incredible generosity of spirit, and an incredible modesty as well.

Most New Zealanders of my age grew up in awe of him, but over time the
mystique around 'the legend' disappeared and we just ended up loving him.

He is truly, the greatest New Zealander to have ever walked this earth.

And I shall miss him.

--

Andrew St.Helier-Bourke