Murder at the Jackson Zoo
the chimpanzees of eden
Even before Charles Darwin postulated that the great apes were actually related to us, men were obsessed with them. Edgar Allen Poe wrote one of the world’s first detective stories about an orangutan without ever seeing one. I’m not going to join the evolution argument on one side or the other, but I can tell you that modern genetic mapping has proven that chimpanzees share over ninety-eight percent of their genetic material with human beings. Whether or not they are related to us, they are astoundingly close to us when compared to every other living creature.
As a child, I became fixated on fantastic stories—I still am. Many of these stories involved apes. I was particularly interested in two stories: “King Kong” and “Planet of the Apes.” Both stories explored questions about what separates us from the apes. Both reflected the long-held opinion that gorillas are savage and violent, but chimps are reflective and friendly.
From Tarzan’s Cheeta to Lancelot Link, we often heard the message that chimpanzees are meek and friendly. However, most of these opinions were formed before scientists and anthropologists spent much time with the great apes in the wild. Thanks to the work of Jane Goodall and Dian Fossey, we now know that chimpanzees are far more aggressive than gorillas.
Working as a secretary to Louis Leaky, who discovered the fossilized remains of the earliest then-known hominids, Jane Goodall received a grant from the National Geographic Foundation to live among and study chimpanzees in the wild.
Goodall wrote two books that had a tremendous influence on this story. The first was “In The Shadow of Man” (1971), which was made into a documentary that was presented on television, including in Mississippi. “In the Shadow Of Man” detailed her experiences with chimpanzees living in the Gombe nature preserve in Nigeria and did much to change the world’s perception of these animals.
Her third book, “The Chimpanzees of Gombe: Patterns of Behavior,” was published two years before the events in this story, even though I hadn't read it yet. It again revolutionized how humans perceived and understood chimpanzees. In it, she described what became known as “The Chimpanzee War.” Knowing that chimpanzees participated in organized warfare changed how we understood them and ourselves forever.
My parents worked very hard to impress upon me that the concepts of leadership and Christianity depend on the human capacity to serve. I’ve spent my life trying to find ways to serve that match my unique and unusual gifts. Giving back to a world that often didn’t understand me became very important.
As far back as I can remember, I’ve been obsessed with the Jackson Zoo. Besides the animal collection, the architecture of the zoo made an impression on me. Built with mostly money from WPA and similar federal programs, the Jackson Zoo had a stone house where elephants lived (and the sculpted head of an elephant above the door) and a medieval castle made of sandstone sat on an island in a pond; the home to a troop of chattering monkeys!
Starting before I was old enough to understand what was happening, the City of Jackson's government struggled to manage the zoo. To fill in the gaps, a volunteer group that became known as “The Friends of the Jackson Zoo” grew up. Led by some very powerful women and a remarkably energetic and creative architect, they proposed that the city turn over the management of the zoo to a private board made up of Zoo Friends who could renovate and manage the aging zoo. It was a resounding success.
Before privatization, the Zoo had a chimpanzee exhibit just north of the fabled Monkey Island. An older type of zoo exhibit, it was basically just a steel cage. A tire swing hung from the ceiling. Jackson had two chimpanzees. Roy and Venus.
Roy was famous for two things. He was quite a devoted smoker. In an era where nearly everyone smoked, visitors of the zoo knew they could throw lit cigarettes to Roy, and he’d happily puff away. He was even known to stretch out his hand for one if he saw a visitor smoking.
Although it wasn’t as well known, Roy had a reputation among the Zoo insiders for throwing his own feces for distance and accuracy. Many primates have been recorded throwing feces in the wild and captivity, but Roy was particularly adept at it. On those rare occasions when visitors refused to offer him one of their smokes, there was always the chance that they might get hit in the back of the head with a warm glop of digested bananas and monkey chow. Fortunately, most people wore hats in those days.
Well-fed and without natural predation, Chimpanzees in zoos tended to live twenty to thirty percent longer than their wild relatives. Beginning from the day the chimp exhibit and monkey island opened, Roy lived in the Jackson Zoo, smoking away and pelting visitors he didn’t like until 1975. Rumors that he and the Monkey Island monkeys died of tuberculosis were rampant, but Roy just died of old age.
To replace Roy, the popular smoking chimpanzee, the City of Jackson purchased Stanley and Judy, and that’s where this story begins. Arriving in Jackson as infants, Stanley and Judy were stars from the beginning. They were often on the news, and their photographs were often in the Clarion Ledger.
The Chimp Exhibit we had could only really hold two animals. When the Zoo became privatized, though, plans for a massive renovation to the west included a naturalized and expanded chimpanzee exhibit. As plans for the African Plains Exhibit were being finalized and realized, Stanley and Judy, who had recently become sexually mature, were allowed to breed. The Jackson Zoological Park soon had its first chimpanzee birth. Named “Jackson,” for his home city, the furry baby soon became a star.
Moving into the new exhibit, the now privatized zoo acquired chimps from other zoos. Belle and Jojo. Taking advantage of the new understanding of chimp behavior from Goodall’s book, Jackson had an actual Chimpanzee Troop. Very proud of our new (very expensive) Chimpanzee exhibit. The Jackson Zoo was a shining example of public/private partnerships, and the possibilities opened when public institutions became privatized. Among other achievements, the Jackson Zoo joined and was accredited by the American Society of Zoological Parks and became eligible to participate in the Species Survival Program that sought to preserve the genetic gifts of threatened and endangered species.
The now-privatized Jackson Zoo Board hired a young woman named Barbara Barrett as the new zoo director. She soon proved to be a firebrand and one of the more remarkable young leaders in a city that was experiencing remarkable growth after the painful years of the nineteen-sixties. This is where I enter the story. I began volunteering my time to the Friends of the Jackson Zoo. Both of my parents had a reputation for volunteerism. My mother had taken a position as the first manager of the Jackson Stewpot. I can’t remember ever seeing my father at the Jackson Zoo, but his office was nearby, and as I got older, he spent more time trying to teach me how things worked in this old world, including the ins and outs of office supplies and furniture, which became useful as I began my own career in volunteerism.
We would soon learn that Young Jackson had epilepsy. The new Chimpanzee Exhibit had a public section resembling a natural piece of the African environment, including a waterfall. Beyond it were more traditional cages and space for storage and plumbing. This is where the animals retreated at night. Most of the Zoo’s exhibits were built on this arrangement, which was known as “bedroom cages.”
One night, as he slept in his bedroom cage, Jackson had an epileptic seizure and fell off the shelf where he was sleeping. Damaging his spine in the fall, Jackson lost the use of his hind legs. Testing her leadership skills, Director Barrett arranged for veterinary surgeons at Mississippi State to perform surgery on Jackson, hopefully restoring the use of his legs.
The surgery was successful, but Jackson would have pronounced scars on his back for the rest of his life.
Although Stanley established himself as the dominant male early on, JoJo struggled with his position as beta. He became known for bullying others, particularly Jackson. Keepers learned that, at the Australian Zoo where JoJo lived before, he was regularly given sedatives to manage his aggressive behavior. Unwilling to condemn JoJo to life on sedatives, the Jackson keepers consulted with the Species Survival experts, and it was decided to split our chimpanzees into two troops. Stanley, Judy, and Jackson would be one troop, and JoJo and Belle would be another. Only one troop would be allowed on the public part of the exhibit at a time, which would protect Jackson from JoJo as he recovered. Around midday, keepers would switch troops and let the others out.
I became the youngest member yet of the Friends of the Jackson Zoo Board of Directors. A wiz at managing budgets, Barbara Barrett realized she could hire recent graduates from Mississippi colleges to be marketing director for the Jackson Zoo for not very much money. Roughly my age, these young women would become my inside informant at the Zoo, even though they generally moved on to better-paying positions (or marriage) pretty quickly.
During one of our Christmas at the Zoo events, the young marketing director knew I smoked. She did too, but like Roy, the smoking chimpanzee, she usually had no smokes, just the habit, so if she wanted to indulge, she sought me out. She also didn’t want her boss to see her smoking, so we’d find places in the Zoo to hide where she could smoke.
Sneaking off like that, most of the other board members and Barbara herself whispered that we were secretly involved. I generally avoided dating girls from Ole Miss. There’s nothing wrong with them, but I have always found that they have very different interests and priorities than mine. Our friendship was very genuine, though; we both loved the zoo, and I always had cigarettes.
Finding a hiding place near the bedroom cages for the Cheeta Exhibit, we were far enough away from the Christmas crowd at the Zoo to smoke without getting caught. Leaning against the chainlink fence while we gossiped, I didn’t realize the only thing between me and the cheetah was the chainlink fence. I couldn’t see the wild cats in the dark, but they could see me. Suddenly, a massive jolt pushed me off the fence and onto the ground. My friend laughed. I wasn’t ever in any danger, but the cheetah decided to remind me who’s boss around here. He stared me down from the other side of the fence, challenging me to lean against it again.
JoJo and Belle soon conceived a child. The human community around the zoo treated animal births with almost as much enthusiasm as human births. One day, my marketing director co-conspirator called to say we had a baby. I made excuses at the office and headed to the Zoo.
The entrance to the Chimpanzee exhibit was behind it. A simple door, it was usually overlooked by Zoo guests as they passed. Early in the morning, before the Zoo opened, Barbara Barrett and one of the other board members stood by the door, peering in.
I worked pretty hard to maintain my relationship with the keepers. They worked super hard and often for not very much money. Every Christmas, the Friends Board arranged to get each of them a fresh one-hundred-dollar bill in an envelope. It wasn’t enough to compensate them for their work. Most stayed with us because they loved animals, and most were amazing at working with their furry charges.
I’d been in the bedroom cages for the chimps before. My technique for dealing with most of the animals in the zoo was to keep my eyes below theirs, suggesting that I was no threat. My beloved Marrie, the elephant, was one of the few animals who accepted me without elaborate efforts to show submission. I should have tried that with the cheetahs.
Crouching beside one of the keepers, I approached the cage where Belle and her new baby sat. Born in May, her name would be MaeBelle (pronounced Mable) JoJo chattered in the cage next to us. Stanley quietly supervised our visit. Avoiding eye contact, Belle noticed me next to the keeper. She approached the bars and held out her tiny cargo for us to see. MaeBelle reached out her tiny pink hand. Having such an alien but eerily human animal trust me enough to show me her baby is a moment I’ll never forget.
Concerned about how to manage the bedroom cages for the Chimp Exhibit if there would always be animals in it, the Jackson Zoo Keepers discussed the situation with the Species Survival people. Separating the two groups was intended as a temporary solution to the problem of JoJo picking on Jackson. Jackson was fully recovered now, so talks of reuniting the chimps began.
Everybody was concerned about how it would go, but we had faith in the animal behavioralists who worked for the Species Survival program. Stanley was considerably larger and more muscular than JoJo. He shouldn’t have any trouble reestablishing his dominance. Stanley was a beautiful animal. His white beard offset his thick black coat. You could see the intelligence working behind his chocolate-brown eyes. JoJo was balding and had a nervous, agitated attitude about him. Free of the sedatives they’d given him in Australia, JoJo was considerably smaller but considerably more aggressive than Stanley. Stanley had never known anything but human love and adoration from his human keepers. We have no idea what sort of childhood JoJo had in Australia.
The first few efforts to recombine our chimp troop were challenging but considered a success. JoJo protested and made bluff runs, but Stanley stood his ground. The animals were moved back into their bedroom cages before anything bad could happen. As things were generally improving, most of the Animal Care Staff were optimistic.
My office was just about a mile from the Jackson Zoo. One morning, my marketing director/informant friend called. “You should get up here.” She said.
Stopping at the office first, I met Barbara Barrett. “Before you go down there, you should know: Stanley didn’t make it.” She said.
Releasing the chimps into the public part of the exhibit and getting ready to open the zoo, JoJo was behaving extremely aggressively. Keepers opened the door for Stanley, Judy, and Jackson to re-enter their bedroom cages, but Stanley ran toward the moat, not the door.
Stanley made the fatal mistake of momentarily turning his back on JoJo. JoJo leaped on him from behind and broke Stanley’s jaw. Panicked, Stanley ran into the moat surrounding the exhibit. Chimps don’t swim. He began to vomit up his breakfast into his broken jaw, making it difficult to breathe. Stanley passed out into the moat and drowned.
We’d had animal deaths before, but nothing like this.
Two years before, Jane Goodall published her book “The Chimpanzees of Gombe: Patterns of Behavior,” introducing the world to the idea of chimpanzee war. I read it intently, trying to understand what happened at the Jackson Zoo. I had been imprinted with the idea of friendly and intelligent chimpanzees, free of the tragic weaknesses of men; Goodall would explain how our closest relative shared our most tragic patterns of behavior, murder, and war.
I knew we wouldn’t be able to keep Barbara Barrett for too long. She was too brilliant and too beautiful. I never understood how she could have been single when she took that job, but she eventually corrected it. White flight and urban decay soon became crippling issues for Jackson. Barbara saw the writing on the wall and moved on from the Jackson Zoo and the City of Jackson.
After my father’s death, I rotated off the board for the Jackson Zoo, the Jackson Ballet, and everything else I was involved in. Generally unhappy with Jackson, and In Jackson, I was making plans to move to California. Plans that I never carried through with. My roots here were too strong.
Stanley was a beautiful animal. I remember him distinctly. His death changed something in me not long before many other things would change in me. I began to lose faith in my home and in my species.
You sometimes hear Jackson called the “murder capital of the United States,” and we do have a disturbingly high murder rate for our size. Murder, it seems, is innate in us. From Cain and Abel to Stanley and JoJo, it’s not something we’ve had much success in escaping.
