Marlene Wagman-Geller

“The greatest danger to our future is apathy.”

     From the trenches of France in 1920, Hugh Lofting wrote to his sons about a British physician, John Doolittle. Despite the apathetic-sounding surname, the doctor possessed the most remarkable gift: he could talk to animals. The letters transformed to a beloved children’s classic and inspired one of the greatest scientific discoveries of the twentieth century.

     An extraordinary woman with an extra-ordinary life, Valerie Jane Morris-Goodall was born in London and grew up in “The Birches,” her home in Bournemouth. Jane’s first encounter with the animal that would dominate her life was a first birthday present from her father, Mortimer. The toy was a plush chimpanzee whose manufacturer named it Jubilee after a chimp at the London Zoo, christened after King George V’s Silver Jubilee. Her non-stuffed canine companion was a collie named Rusty. Jane’s favorite storybook characters were Dr. Doolittle who left for Africa to save its monkeys, and Tarzan, a feral boy raised by apes. Goodall was so smitten with Tarzan that she joked, “He married the wrong Jane. The wretched man.”  When she mentioned she was going to go to Africa, people said she was dreaming men’s dreams. 

      The one who did not laugh was Jane’s mother, (Myfanwe,) known as Vanne, who advised her daughter she would find a way. One evening, Vanne spied dozens of earthworms in Jane’s bed. Rather than a knee-jerk shriek, Vanne explained Jane’s little friends needed soil to live, and together they returned them to the garden. Her mother’s devotion helped compensate for her absentee father who had shipped out to France during World War II and obtained a divorce in 1950.

      Jane’s uncle, Sir Michael Spens, arranged for Jane to be a debutante for the 1955 season, and a refugee from Vienna taught her how to curtsey and instructed her that when she met the royals to lower her eyes. Wearing a dress with red lace and long black gloves, she observed the other women, the start of her behavioral studies. When fellow debs asked if it were her dream to become a lady-in-waiting, Jane replied, “Absolutely not.” During the presentation, Jane held the gaze of Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip. After the ceremony, Jane learned that there were three girls who had especially caught the attention of the Prince’s wandering eye, one of whom had been the attractive Jane.

      Without the means to attend university, and with no desire to snag a wealthy husband, Jane ended up in secretarial school. Escape appeared in 1957 when her former school friend, Marie-Claude Mange, who had relocated to Nairobi, invited her for a visit. Jane returned to Bournemouth and worked as a waitress for two years until she had saved enough money to pay for her passage. While waiting to board her ship, Kenya Castle, Jane realized her passport was missing. A stranger found the document with an itinerary from Cooks Travel Agency inside. After delivering it to the agency, a Cook employee rushed to the dock, and Africa was once again on Jane’s the horizon. Because war had closed the Suez Canal, the ship had to take the long route around the Cape of Good Hope.

    In Africa, Jane drew on her innate chutzpah and called Dr. Louis Leakey, the famed paleoanthropologist. Her opening gambit was on the pathetic side, “I’d love to come and talk to you about animals.” His wife, Mary, was likewise no slouch in the scientific arena. In 1957, she had unearthed a 1.8-million-year-old fossil she named “the Nut-cracker” due to its huge jaws and molars. Leakey took Jane on a trip to Kenya where she scaled a gorge to escape a lion, and she came to face with an angry rhinoceros, quite the experience for the twenty-three-year-old British woman. She passed muster, and three years later Leakey proposed she take a position to observe chimpanzees in the wild to find evidence of a shared human primate ancestry. He felt that the fact Jane did not have a university degree a bonus as her mind would be free of preconceived theories. Although worried his wife could prove to be what she had named her fossil, Leakey made sexual advances to the beautiful, hazel-eyed blonde. Not viewing his marital status, three children, and thirty-six-year age gap as problematic, he bombarded Jane with declarations of love. Although the eminent doctor had her future in his hands, Jane’s response was, “No, thanks.” Mrs. Leakey drowned her jealousy with brandy.

    Leakey backed off on the romantic front and sent off his Trimates, the name given to his three female researchers: Goodall to study chimpanzees, Dian Fossey to observe gorillas, and BirutÄ— Galdikas to report on orangutans. Goodall remembers Dian as extremely tall and a dedicated husband-hunter known to ask, “Do you know a man who is six foot five and loves gorillas?” Poachers murdered Fossey in 1985 when she went after them for hunting her beloved gorillas. Her burial site is in a cemetery she had built for gorillas slain by poachers.

     Jane’s new digs were in the Gombe Stream Chimpanzee Reserve in the British colony of Tanganyika, now Tanzania, terrain not for the faint of heart. No one else lived there, although the locals believed it was where they would be reborn, after death, as primates. Her first dwelling before she set out was a lodging in a prison camp. She had arrived accompanied by her mother because the local authorities were insistent that a young British girl could not live on her own in the bush without a European escort. The region was a hotbed of unrest as the Belgian Congo had just erupted into civil war, and the area was overrun with refugees. While Jane departed in search of chimps, Vanne and a slightly inebriated African cook opened the windows to let in air; what also came in - spiders, snakes, and bamboos.

     While Vanne was learning survival in her new home, Jane was staking out the chimpanzees. At times, the chimps fled from the interloper. She also endured other phenomena in her army supply tent such as thunderstorms, extreme heat, scorpions, and loneliness. Even more pressing, she understood that the Royal Geographical Society had only funded her expedition for six months and would withdraw patronage if results were not forthcoming.

      The ever-patient observer christened each of her subjects as they were the possessor of unique personalities and appearances. She named her furry children Leakey, Mr. McGregor, and Frodo. After four months, patience and perseverance paid off when the apes began to accept Jane’s presence as nonthreatening, prompted by her occasional gift of bananas. An adult male, called David Greybeard because of his silver goatee, was the most tolerant. On one afternoon, Jane watched in fascination as David Greybeard and his primate pal, Goliath, stripped leaves from twigs before pushing them into a dirt mound to forage for termites-a favorite snack. Through him, in a remote African rainforest, Jane made a revolutionary discovery: that chimpanzees both made and used tools, something previously believed only the provenance of man. Elated, Goodall telegraphed Leakey with the news that amounted to the greatest scientific break-through of the twentieth century. Her boss responded, “Now we must redefine man, redefine tools, or accept chimpanzees as humans.”   

       When Goodall’s discovery made headlines, the story of the beauty and her beasts created a media sensation. However, Jane had her detractors who observed she had only become the National Geographic cover girl because she had nice legs. Unperturbed, Jane responded that yes, her legs were actually very nice. The National Geographic article and documentary introduced Goodall and the Gombe chimpanzees, thereby lifting the veil on an unknown world.

     To generate publicity, Leakey sent out the Dutch photographer, Baron Hugo Van Lawick, and, at the same time, wrote Vanne that he had found a husband for Jane. Initially, Jane was put out by Hugo’s arrival in her sanctuary, and by the trail of his cigarette butts, although they soon bonded over their shared love of animals. When they left for their respective homes for Christmas, a telegraph arrived in Bournemouth: WILL YOU MARRY ME STOP LOVE HUGO. Her response: YES STOP JANE. No doubt her former debutantes would have been astounded that Jane ended up a Baroness. Jane felt as if she had found her own cape of good hope. Three years later, they had son Hugo Eric Louis, nicknamed Grub. Hugo spent his early years in a protective cage, painted blue and hung with mobiles, staring out at the wild creatures of the jungle. The toddler’s first sentence, “That big lion out there eat me.” Their home was a corrugated tin shake, where a table held a number of animal skulls. As it transpired, Van Lawick also married the wrong Jane; the marriage ended in divorce when he left to shoot nature films across Africa, and she declined to follow as his assistant. Grub ended up in a boarding school in England; his mother felt that was the best for him, and it allowed her time to devote herself to the chimps. Her second husband, Derek Bryceson, had been a Royal Air Force veteran who had helped Tanzania win its independence. Six years later, his death from cancer left Jane devastated.

     Leakey, anxious for his protégée to gain academic credibility, arranged for Goodall’s acceptance to Cambridge University where she became the eighth person in its history to enroll in a PhD program without a BA. Elation was short-lived when the professors informed her that her research was faulty. The academics argued she should have numbered the chimps rather than assigned names, and they did not give credence to her claims the chimps were akin to humans on a biological and behavioral level. Rusty had taught Jane that animals possessed distinct personalities, and she remained defiant of the Cambridge bigwigs. When she received her doctorate, becoming a professor held little appeal, and she hastened back to Africa.

     In determination and appearance, Jane is a gracefully aged replica of the young woman who, five decades ago, had dared to dream men’s dreams. Her long hair, now silver, is still tied back in a ponytail. Goodall, aged eighty-seven, remains a rolling-stone as she travels the world, promoting environmental causes espoused by the Jane Goodall Institute which she founded in 1977. She is a legend whose fans include Angelina Jolie, and Colin Firth. After meeting Muhammed Ali, Jane declared that he, “did indeed float like a butterfly.” Goodall reveals Michael Jackson wrote “Heal the World” with her in mind. The scientist and a rollcall of celebrities attended a screening of the film Jane that entailed a live orchestra at the Hollywood Bowl, the first time a documentary sold out the venue’s 17,500 seats. Jane never did become a lady-in-waiting; however, she was made a Commander of the British Empire.

       While Jane was demanding animal protection, her contemporary, Gloria Steinem, campaigned on the feminist forefront. However, Ms. Goodall’s words are also a nod to gender equality, “There are indigenous people in Latin America who have a saying that their tribe is like an eagle: one wing is male, and one wing is female. And only when the wings are equally strong will their tribe fly high. And this, indeed, is worth fighting for.”