In 1924, an Englishman, who’d been an officer in the first World War and a professor at Cambridge University, is embroiled in a small scandal, loses his chance for tenure and decides to be the first man to climb Mount Everest. When a reporter asks him why, he says “Because it’s there."
On June 8, 1924, he disappears 800 feet from the summit. He’d promised to plant a photograph of his wife at the summit, but the photo was never found.
Eighty years later, his body – frozen and perfectly preserved – is discovered by an American climber. The wife’s photo is gone. But the American climber – a man who escapes to the heights, stalling as much as climbing, because he can’t quite face some truths about his marriage down below – finds something else. A letter. A profoundly romantic letter, which one would naturally assume was meant for the Englishman’s wife. Only maybe it wasn’t.
That letter’s undelivered passion, frozen for decades on the side of a mountain, inspires this American, four generations later, to do something he’d otherwise never be able to do – to connect.
You, The Mountain, And Me