DIGNITY AND COMMON SENSE
It was a pleasure to discover in successive instalments of SI that Tenzing's story of his young manhood in Nepal (SI, April 25) was as vivid and moving as the story of his victory over Everest (SI, May 9).
"In some ways I am a little different from most of my people," Tenzing says. "I have wanted to travel, to move, to go and see, to go and find."
Yet after reading Tenzing's account of the Sherpa people I feel that he must characterize the best of that mountain race. As a member of one of the simplest communities on this earth he can speak thoughtfully and almost convincingly of things we would discard as primitive superstitions. As an internationally famous man, he met with supreme good sense and dignity the world's bickering over minute and foolish questions of precedence.
The powers of the West and East could well take a lesson in civilization from Tenzing Norgay and his Sherpa mountain tribe.
Your Tenzing story is a corker, the best so far.
HENRY JEWETT GREENE
Winter Park, Fla.
ITS OWN REWARD
By anyone who has felt the urge to climb mountains, your articles on Tenzing Norgay have been most enjoyed. Mountaineering is the purest form of sport we know today. When the climber defeats his mountain, the reward is only in the climbing. There is no audience, no applause, no material reward for the majority of those who follow the sport.
HANNES IS DEAD
Hannes Schneider, the greatest Skimeister of them all, is dead (SCOREBOARD, "Mileposts," May 9).
For over 10 years I lived across the street from Hannes in St. Anton am Arlberg in Austria. I had most of my meals at Hannes' table. My home had been in Innsbruck in the Tyrol, but when my parents died I went to live on the Arlberg where Hannes had his ski school. One might say that Hannes adopted me. Together we skied, hunted the chamois in the Tyrolean Alps, chopped wood and guided what few tourists there were through the high mountains. So I learned more than skiing at the hands of my oldest and most respected friend—maybe I should say father.
As I remember well, Hannes told me that during World War I, when he was training mountain troops for the Austrian army, it first seemed to him that ski teaching could be done successfully on a group basis instead of on an individual basis—which had been the way in the European ski countries. There were hundreds of guides and teachers, but no ski schools. On this system he planned his school.
Hannes had been an outstanding competitor and had won about every event there was to win, so he had a reputation.