Jim Frush
By Randy Gordon
It is one o’clock in the morning. A conference is about to get under way high above Camp Muir on Mt. Rainier. Cold white winds, sweeping across Disappointment Cleaver on the Ingraham glacier, sting the faces of those looking summit-ward. Seven figures on two rope teams moving up the mountain stop to hear from the now descending advance party, which had departed only forty-five minutes before. At first, all they can see are the headlamps of the advance party, headed by the chief climbing ranger of Mt. Rainier. They stamp their boots in place to keep warm, the crampons fixed to their boots lifting and dropping the powdery snow as they do so.
On one rope there is a climber followed by two secret service agents. On the other, there is the leader of the climb, followed by a father and son, followed, in turn, by another experienced climber. In a matter of minutes, the points of light become circles, then shadowy figures, then men like themselves.
The conferees huddle closely to hear and be heard above the wind. “Conditions above?” “The wind is picking up.” “Not going to get any better.” “Near whiteout conditions.” The advance party is turning back.
The leader of the two rope teams sounds out his teammates on whether to proceed or not. Lives have been lost on a decision such as this. Judgment is honed here in the mountains. Eagerness and prudence must be balanced. This is true today, more than ever, for just behind the leader of the rope is the Vice President of the United States and Democratic candidate for President, Al Gore, Jr., followed by his son Albert. “I like to see things for myself,” the leader suggests. Consensus is quickly reached. “I agree, Jim. Let’s go on and see for ourselves,” the Vice President says.
Seven hours later, in what Al Gore was later to describe as a transforming experience, the team, led by Jim Frush, arrives safely at the summit.
Enduring friendships are forged quickly in the mountains. The next year, Jim Frush, speaking before the Democratic National Convention on the evening that Vice President Gore was nominated, noted that, in the mountains you learn a lot about a man. There was much about Gore he admired. Frush went on to represent the Gore Campaign throughout the country, making appearances and press interviews in fourteen states between the Convention and the election.
Jim Frush has also learned that friendships can end in the mountains. His moments of high achievement are inextricably bound up with remembrances of friends lost. Roped together, climbing partners know that their lives are in each other’s hands. Lifelong relationships are born amidst the intensity and spiritual experience of the high mountains. But, how long is lifelong?
In 1986, in what he regards as one of his proudest achievements, Jim was the first American to summit 28,000 foot Cho Oyu , the sixth highest peak in the world, doing so Alpine style, without fixed camps, oxygen or the support of sherpas. Exhausted by the effort, he was assisted during the descent by his friend and fellow climber, Dr. Charlie Schertz, who died in an avalanche in 1990. He remembers Charlie daily.
Yet, Jim hastens to add, lest he be guilty of failing in his respects to other lost comrades, “I’ve had five of my best friends die climbing.” Still, Jim gave up solo climbing in the early 1980’s in favor of the intensity and comradery of climbing with others, with everything that brought.
Jim’s climbing experiences on Mt. Everest, mentioned in John Krakauer’s classic Into Thin Air, include the successful expedition in 1988 where Jim and eight others, including the first two American women ever, attained the summit. But, expedition climbing eventually lost its allure, with its fundraising, impersonally large teams, corporate sponsors, and organizational and logistical challenges.
For Jim, it is the untrodden path that beckons. He is excited to discuss how he has achieved a first ascent ever of five peaks over 20,000 feet (the height of Mt. McKinley) in the last four years, including the 21,000+ foot peak of Mt. Selibun in Nepal last October.
A first ascent is the gold standard of mountaineering, truly going where no one has gone before, in the spirit of the Arctic and Antarctic explorers. For the last decade, Jim has focused on unclimbed--sometimes, unnamed-- peaks in remote areas, new routes, climbing Alpine style, usually with one other partner.
Jim has made notable ascents on every continent except Antarctica. He’s climbed the Alps, the Andes, the Rockies, Africa, New Zealand. His special love for Nepal and its people have drawn him to central Asia every year since 1983. Shadowing these successes are the climbs where Jim feels he came up short or, as he puts it, “the mountain was too high.” And always lurking are the memories of loss and those left behind.
Exploratory expeditions to untouched areas and virgin peaks are but one draw in a life traveling the untrodden path. Jim grew up in Trinidad, Colorado, the largest town for 100 miles in any direction--population 6,000. Located at the based of a sandstone mesa, the most obvious way out of town was up the sandstone cliffs of a box canyon. (Jim still boasts a remarkably low number at REI-- which was the only place to get climbing equipment in Colorado as a preteen.)
Valedictorian of a class of 150, where only 10 went on to college, Jim not only attended the University of Denver, but graduated magna cum laude and was admitted to Phi Beta Kappa in his junior year.
Jim’s next move placed him even further from his origin. The sandstone canyons of his youth yielded to New York City’s concrete and steel skyscraper canyons. At Columbia Law School, Jim graduated in the top ten percent and took First Place in the Trial Competition Award. For a brief moment, Jim flirted with a well-worn path to success, as a lawyer at a Manhattan law firm, White & Case. This was not to be. Jim left for Seattle.
In Seattle, Jim’s passion for the
mountains was balanced with his passion for the law. Doing both involved choices and challenges. On the brink of partnership, Jim left the collegial atmosphere of Riddell Williams, for the office of the United States Attorney and its opportunities for trial practice. For five years, 1980 through 1985, Jim tried dozens of the hardest cases the office had to offer: murders, bank robberies, white collar crime, always alone. He thrived on the responsibility of making the tough decisions, discovering that in trial practice, like climbing, each effort was unique.
The stakes were always high. One mistake could make all the difference. Jim found the U.S. Attorney’s office and the Seattle bench and bar deferential, even supportive, of the transcendent challenge of climbing at the elite level. For nine months a year he honed his skills as a trial lawyer with uncommon dedication. For three months a year he toiled on the most challenging expedition climbs in the greatest mountains in the world.
In 1983, Jim’s accomplishments as a climber were acknowledged by his peers when he was invited to join the American Alpine Club, then an invitation-only group of elite climbers. (Since that time, Jim has served as the 7,000 member group’s secretary, vice president, and president on three occasions, on its board since 1993, and currently serves as the managing editor of the American Alpine Journal.)
In 1985, Jim set off for the mountains, residing primarily in Katmandu, Nepal, for four years as Special Correspondent for the Seattle Times, writing articles on all subjects, and serving as his own photographer. He served as a rigger and technical advisor for commercials in 1987, skills that have put him in good stead as he coordinated with cameramen on his celebrity guided trips and charity climbs. These skills were later showcased in several commercials and a film shown at the Democratic National Convention.
Amidst the beauty of Nepal, there was also the stark reality of life for its people. It was impossible not to feel a deep compassion for the neglected, abandoned children in this far flung outpost of humanity. Jim became active (and remains active) in the Himalayan Children’s Foundation.
Returning to Seattle and the practice of law in 1989, Jim found in Bill Helsell a mentor of the first magnitude, described by Jim as “a decorated World War II flyer, a consummate trial lawyer and the greatest white collar criminal lawyer of his day,” one who was “fearless” in taking on representation of the “non-establishment” clients. Jim followed Bill into the criminal defense practice, sharing with him the conviction that every person deserved a defense and bringing to each case a compassion for the client going through one of the greatest trials life can present--defending oneself from criminal prosecution by the Government, and the resulting impact on family, home, work, and standing in the community. It was also at this time that Jim became active in the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, having been acquainted with this disease through the affliction of the daughter of one of his law partners.
On those few--surprisingly rare--occasions of direct conflict, the lure of the mountains would yield to the responsibilities to his client. More often than not, however, Jim found support in the court. As Judge Dwyer once said when a scheduled sentencing conflicted with the departure date for an expedition climb: “I think you need to go on this climb, Mr. Frush.” The sentencing was continued until Jim’s return--with Judge Dwyer adding a suitable recuperation period given the arduous nature of the climb. Jim notes with satisfaction that, despite a recommendation of a sentence of 28 months by the Government and 24 months by Probation, the client received six months home detention without electronic monitoring. Jim takes pride in his record in federal court of always getting a better sentence for his clients after trial than the government’s last plea offer.
Leaving Helsell Fetterman in 1996 following Bill Helsell’s retirement, Jim joined Gordon Thomas Honeywell Malanca Peterson & Daheim, where he is currently a partner. As Special Counsel to the Public Disclosure Commission, Jim prevailed in enforcement actions against Christine Gregoire as attorney general and House Speaker Dale Forman as gubernatorial candidate.
When not thriving in the thin air of high places, Jim seems to flourish in the challenges presented by the high profile clients he represents. These clients, even more than others, require compassion and support as well as a vigorous defense, for arrayed against them is not only the arsenal of government power, but public obloquy magnified by the media.
Some of Jim’s best achievements do not make the papers, as where, during his service as Special Assistant Attorney General, ethics charges against high University of Washington officials were dropped before being filed. Others cannot avoid coverage: his representation of Governor Locke in a number of Public Disclosure Commission cases; his representation of retired Tacoma City Manager Ray Corpuz in the investigations and civil litigation brought by the family of Crystal Brame, murdered by her husband, former Tacoma Police Chief David Brame; his representation of the owner of Bull’s Eye Shooter Supply of Tacoma, the gun store which was the source of the sniper rifle in the Maryland and Virginia shootings. Always, there remain the lesser known clients, whose lives hang in the balance and who feel the trauma of prosecution every bit as keenly. Their case is just as important as those reported in the newspapers, Jim tells them.
Now, it is early in the morning on Bainbridge Island. In the living room of Jim’s home, Tibetan antique furniture including an altar with a portrait of the Dalai Lama catch the eye, along with items which hint at the passion of their owner for the land and people of central Asia.
There was a time when Jim was one of two finalists for the post of Ambassador to Nepal, at the nexus of his political activism and his love of two countries. It was not to be; when offered another ambassadorship, Jim declined. During his time there, Jim fell in love with the people and culture of Nepal, a feeling for which there could be no substitute.
Each morning, more often than not, Jim indulges in his daily ritual of playing the piano, perhaps a Bach toccata or invention, for thirty to forty-five minutes before catching the ferry to downtown Seattle. Wordsworth tells us “the child is the father of the man.” Music has been part of Jim’s life since he started as a six year old child. “It puts everything in perspective,” he says, “Bach has been around a long time.” So have the mountains. So has the law.
For Jim, life remains interesting as he continues to explore the joys of fatherhood with his now seven year old son, Jonathan. Jonathan climbed his first 6,000 foot peak in the Olympics last summer with his dad. Jonathan is taking up the piano himself, as his father before him had nearly half a century ago. Novus ordo seclorum. There are injustices to be righted. Another season has arrived with new summits to climb. n
Randy Gordon is a non-elite climber, currently serving as Governor, 8th District, for the Washington State Bar Association. Randy received the 2003 Outstanding Faculty Award from Seattle University School of Law, where he is an adjunct professor, the 1998 Public Justice Award from the Washington State Trial Lawyers and, in 2001, received both the President’s Award (WSBA) and the Professionalism Award (WSTLA). Randy was recently appointed General Counsel for the USA-National Karate-do Federation, the USOC-recognized National Governing Body for the sport of karate.
