Jim Whittaker and summit partner Nawang Gombu Sherpa. Photo from Elizabeth Hawley Collection, American Alpine Club Library
We are saddened by the passing of mountaineering legend Jim Whittaker—a man who left an indelible mark on climbing history. “Big Jim” passed away on April 7, 2026, surrounded by his family. He was the 1,007th AAC member in the Club’s history (his twin brother Lou was the 1,008th)—and we are honored to have been a small part of Whittaker’s story.
Jim Whittaker during the 1963 American Everest Expedition. Photo by James T. Lester, courtesy of the AAC Library
Jim Whittaker is famous for being the first American to summit Everest in 1963. In the 1964 edition of the American Alpine Journal, Willi Unsoeld wrote an account of the 1963 American Everest expedition, including the moment that Big Jim and Nawang Gombu left Camp VI that historic morning for their summit bid: “On the morning of May 1 there was a gigantic plume of snow directly above us, with Lhotse and Nuptse barely visible. Makalu was completely blotted out. After a quick breakfast—a cup of hot Jello per man—Big Jim and Gombu were on their way by 6:30.” Whittaker’s own personal experience of this epic moment of mountaineering history is told in far more detail elsewhere, but the AAJ account makes it clear that this was no stroll in the park. Whittaker and Gombu were hit by a storm on the south summit, and were initially lost and intimidated by the look of the steep final summit ridge before they eventually decided to continue. With the top in sight, they turned to each other, each offering for the other to go first, then “side by side they walked the last five feet. Beyond, everything fell away. They hugged each other, fighting to maintain their balance on the storm-swept summit of the world.”
Some of Jim Whittaker’s gear from the 1963 Everest Expedition is housed in the American Alpine Club Library and Archives.
But even with the American flag planted on the summit, their trials weren’t over. Upon starting their descent, they both promptly ran out of oxygen, and not long after, a big cornice dissolved between the two men: “Big Jim found himself staring at Tibet below his feet!” But the descent was dire in other ways as well. As Unsoeld tells it, Whittaker “found it necessary to heed what would appear to be the highest call of nature in mountaineering history”—and right after getting back into his harness to follow Gombu, found himself slipping and hanging from the rope upside down. After a massive struggle to right himself, Whittaker and Gombu continued to suffer an agonizingly slow and painful descent, before they finally found their stashed oxygen, and the rest of the descent went smoother. The 1963 American Everest Expedition would put 4 more men on the summit—with two of those men accomplishing the first ascent of the West Ridge and the first traverse of the peak.
Jim Whittaker’s pack from the 1963 American Everest Expedition. Hosed in the American Alpine Club Library and Archives.
Yet, Whittaker’s life was so much more than Everest. As Lou Reichardt wrote in a review of Whittaker’s memoir, A Life on the Edge: Memoirs of Everest and Beyond: “The book provides a view of a life well led by a mountaineer who has always stretched his own boundaries, has used fame wisely, has always been willing to take risks to advance good causes and has never lost his reverence for nature.”
In the AAC archives, you can find some of the lesser known stories from Whittaker’s life: his accident on Denali (Mt. McKinley) in 1961; his involvement in the first ascent of Canada’s Mt. Kennedy in 1966, which he climbed with his friend Bobby Kennedy (the expedition and ascent was made in honor of the recently assassinated President John F. Kennedy); his leadership on several tumultuous expeditions to K2, that ultimately resulted in the first successful American ascent, and third ever ascent, of K2, in 1978; and the Everest International Peace Climb which he initiated and led in 1991.
Many have noted that despite being devastated first by the assassination of JFK, and later the assassination of Bobby Kennedy, Jim Whittaker never lost his idealism and optimism. The Everest International Peace Climb is perhaps the clearest example of this. As he wrote for the AAJ in 1991: ”Our goal was to place three climbers, one from each country, on the top of the world. They would demonstrate that through friendship and cooperation high goals can be reached. We chose our enemies to climb with—the Soviets and the Chinese. This was before glasnost, before perestroika, before the Reagan-Gorbachev summit, before Gorbachev went to Beijing. We would hold the summit of all summit meetings, enemies becoming friends.”
Despite differences in tactics and strategies, and plenty of translation and communication issues, each team of climbers brought commitment to the effort, and as the leader, Whittaker helped build something extremely special: “a small city of mountaineers from three diverse cultures who would trust their lives to each other on the highest mountain on earth.”
As Whittaker wrote in summary, “We succeeded far beyond our wildest dreams: no deaths; 20 to the summit; first Soviet woman to the summit; second Chinese-Tibetan woman to the summit; five ascents without bottled oxygen; two tons of garbage removed from the mountain. To climb Everest is difficult. To do it with former enemies, through interpreters, and to place at least three of each country on the summit were said by many to be impossible.”
For Whittaker, mountains could be so much more than something to conquer. They are also a moving practice of trust, connection, grit, and hope.
In Whittaker’s 1962 member application to the AAC, one of his recommenders, John S. Day, wrote: “If I were asked who taught me the most, and who inspired me the most in connection with mountaineering, my answer would be an unqualified ‘Louie and Jim Whittaker.’” Clearly, we are not alone in being moved by Big Jim’s vision of mountaineering.
Team members from the 1963 American Everest Expedition who summited Everest, plus expedition leader Norman Dyhrenfurth. Willi Unsoeld, who also summited, is not pictured.
Back row: Nawang Gombu, Lute Jerstad, Norman Dyhrenfurth, Tom Hornbein; Seated: Barry Bishop and Jim Whittaker.
Photo by Barry Corbet, courtesy of the American Alpine Club Library
Want to learn more about Jim Whittaker? The American Alpine Club is proud to share a short Legacy Series film, historic 1964 article from the American Alpine Journal, and Legacy Series podcast to celebrate the spirit of exploration and community that Jim helped define:
