The Book of Hope: A Survival Guide for Trying Times(48)

She told me that Uncle Eric had stories of courage to share when he came to Bournemouth for weekends after operating on victims from the Blitz. “And as I’ve said,” Jane said, “growing up in World War Two taught me so much—I learned the value of food and clothes because everything was rationed. And I learned about death and the harsh realities of human nature—love, compassion, courage on the one hand; brutality and unbelievable cruelty on the other. This dark side was strikingly revealed to me at a young age, as we discussed earlier, when the first reports and photos of the skeletal survivors of the Holocaust were published.

“And the defeat of Nazi Germany—well, there could be no better example of how victory can be won, even when defeat seems inevitable, if the enemy is confronted boldly and with great courage.”

I was beginning to understand the important role Jane’s family and circumstances had played in creating the Jane of today. But I realized she hadn’t mentioned her father.


With my father, Mum, and Judy the day I was honored with a CBE (Commander of the British Empire). (JANE GOODALL INSTITUTE/MARY LEWIS)



“No, my father doesn’t figure largely in my childhood memories as he joined the army in the Royal Engineers at the very start of the war and he and Mum divorced at the end of the war. But I surely inherited my very tough constitution from him.”

“Yes, you’ve told me that you recovered from some really bad bouts of malaria and that the various bruises and cuts you received when climbing around in the forest always healed quickly. How did you become so strong, because you said you weren’t that way in early childhood?”

Jane laughed. “I absolutely wasn’t! I missed a lot of school. As I think I mentioned to you, I used to get really, really bad migraines—they tended to come on just as I started an end-of-term exam—which really upset me, as I always studied hard and actually looked forward to answering whatever questions were thrown at me. And I frequently had painful bouts of tonsillitis, which were several times accompanied by quinsies.”

“What is a quinsy?” I asked.

“It’s an abscess around the base of a tonsil—really, really painful until it bursts. And I got all the childhood diseases except mumps—measles, German measles, chicken pox—and Judy and I both nearly died of scarlet fever.

“And I told you about the time, when I was about fifteen, I became convinced that when I shook my head, I could hear my brain shifting inside my skull. I was really scared. In the end Uncle Eric had me examined. Of course, there was nothing wrong with my brain at all, but I still didn’t dare shake my head because I still heard, or thought I heard, my brain moving around inside. In fact, as I told you during one of our talks, I was so often sick that Uncle Eric used to call me Weary Willy. But then, one day I overheard him talking with Mum and questioning whether I had the physical stamina to follow my dream to go to Africa. And that, of course, was like a challenge—if I wanted to fulfill my dream of studying animals in Africa, I had to prove him wrong!”

“And you certainly did. But how did you do that?”

“Thinking back, I realize that I was never sick during the holidays. I did really well at school, but I wanted to be out in nature. Getting sick must have been some kind of psychological—and totally unconscious—way of getting out of school! Because over the holidays I was a real tomboy, climbing the tallest trees, swimming when there was snow on the ground, allowed to ride the most spirited horse who loved to buck and try to run away at the riding school.”

I laughed. “Perhaps all of that trained you for everything you had to contend with in Africa?”

“There were some frightening moments,” Jane said. She told me of her close encounters with buffaloes and leopards—she came upon them suddenly, but they never harmed her. Once, a deadly Storm’s water cobra was washed onto her foot as she was walking along the beach and stared up at her “from black expressionless eyes.” She laughed. “I was a bit scared then, I must admit. There was no antivenom, and so many fishermen had died from cobra bites when they accidentally caught one of those snakes in their nets. I just stood motionless—and was very relieved when another wave washed it away!

“But all of that was exciting, Doug,” Jane said. “The worst part was when the chimps were running away from me and I was not sure I had time to win their trust before my funding ran out. People have asked me if I ever felt like giving up in the beginning. Well, you know me too well by now—I’m obstinate and I never even thought of quitting.”

“What about when your methods were criticized when you got to Cambridge University?” I asked. “After all, you had not been to college. You’d had no scientific training. Weren’t you intimidated then?”

“I was intimidated at the thought of going to that prestigious university and being among students who had had to work so hard for their undergraduate degrees. But when I was told I could not talk about chimpanzees having personalities, minds, and emotions—well, I was just shocked. It was lucky I had learned from Rusty, and the various pets I had as a child even before I got to know the chimpanzees, that in this respect the professors were absolutely wrong. I knew very well that we are not the only beings on the planet with personalities, minds, and feelings, that we are part of, and not separate from, the amazing animal kingdom.”