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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Preston part 1
I had made peace with Kwele. I had told him that the little chimpanzee was a very rare specimen indeed, for which fifty shillings was an absurdly low price. The poor ignorant bush hunter men had been royally snookered. Kwele was to be congratulated. It was terribly important to keep the specimen alive, I said, and to that end I was putting Kwele in charge of it, with a salary supplement equal to the gravity of his new responsibility.
As I had anticipated, Kwele immediately subcontracted out the work of caring for the chimpanzee to two of the camp wives, paying them only a fraction of his supplement, and loudly directing every operation with imperious gestures and references to the terrible anger of the Masa should any mistakes be made. The two women took excellent care of the chimpanzee,. treating. her just like a child, heating her milk, feeding her every four hours. When the chimp began to look peaked they had a discussion and found her a wet nurse-a woman whose own baby had died of diarrhea. The chimp seemed to thrive on human milk, although I could net overcome my astonishment at seeing an animal sucking for all she was worth at a human breast, clamoring and pawing around and raising a racket whenever she felt deprived of the ---.
We supplemented the chimpanzee's human milk diet with powdered milk. Evey morning the squeaking, gurgling chimpanzee sat in my lap and sucked on a bottle.
During my four month circuit of the Batuti forest, the chimpanzee grew fast. Faster; it seemed to me, than my son, Sandy had when a baby. Her skin remained white (white skin is not uncommon among lowland chimps) but the hair thickened and shortened, and the face grew rounder and more appealing every day. The eyes, which started off blue, began. to darken into blue-black. She learned to grab, and while she suckled on the bottle one hand would wave about and finally snag my button or a wrinkle in my shirt-which she would yank.
She walked for the first time just before we reached Lukemba. She was about four months old. The forest had begun to darken every afternoon, the sky filling with unseen clouds. Sometimes a wind shook the upper canopy and distant thunder rolled through the muffling trees, bringing with it a whiff of humidity and ozone.
The chimpanzee had been crawling around under my camp desk, patting the dusk and crooning softly to herself. I felt her fist on my pantleg and looked down in time to see her launch herself across the room, taking four or five quick wobbly steps before pitching forward onto her knuckles and then facedown in the dirt. This performance was followed by a triumphant gale of high-pitched hoots and cries, while she bounced up and down holding on to a table leg.
Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Preston part 2
I was worried about Jennie. getting along with Sarah, our baby girl. I was also worried about germs. Who knew what horrible diseases she might have brought back from of the jungles of Africa. Hugo wanted to introduce Jennie to Sarah right away, but I said not on your life, not until that ape is clean!
The next thing I knew, Sandy had his bathing suit on Hugo was sitting on the front stoop, smoking that terrible pipe of his. Ugh! How I hated that dirty old thing. He dropped ashes everywhere and all his shirts had burn holes in them--
What was that? Oh yes, Hugo was sitting on the stoop, the hose across the lawn. When Jennie saw the water she screamed and hid in the hedge, but Sandy dragged her out, and soon the two of them were running and jumping through the spray of water. Sandy was in front, while Jennie scooted along behind, screaming with delight. With her hair plastered down by the water she looked sosmall, just an itty-bitty black thing with big ears and that enormous mouth. When she. ran along on her knuckles she looked like a bowling ball with ears. And the noise that came out of that mouth! Heaven help us, no human could have made that noise. It sounded like something out of a Tarzan movie.
While this was going on, I could see old Mrs. Wardell staring out her kitchen window She was the dentist's wife. What was going through her mind heaven only.knows. And then I realized that all up and down the street, there were faces in the wind'ws. Only Reverend Palliser across the street had the nerve to come out to see what unholy creature was making such a row. It's odd how clearly I remember him now: standing there in his shirtsleeves, with the funniest expression of bewilderment on his round face. He looked just like a big Charlie Brown. The poor man, he was gassed at Ypres, you. know. I don't think he ever quite got over it. And then he went senile, wandering all about the neighborhood, and--
Oh yes. The story Well! Hugo finally brought Jennie in to meet Sarah. I sat on the sofa with Sarah in my lap, while Jennie squatted on the floor, watching. She was terribly interested in the baby. Sarah had grown, so in the six months Hugo had been gone. She had a potbelly and big fat cheeks. Cute as a button.
Jennie hopped up on the sofa and stared at Sarah. The baby looked back at the chimp and stretched out both hands. The chimpanzee didn't scare her in the slightest. Nothing scares her, even today. She was always a fearless little firebrand.
Hugo introduced them. Jennie looked right into Sarah's face and laid a hairy hand on her head. They stared at. each other, fascinated. Neither one had seen, anything like the other! And then Jennie said "Oooo" and stuck Sarah's hand into her mouth.
Oh my goodness. You, can imagine my reaction. I shrieked and snatched Sarah away. You see, I thought Jennie had tried to bite Sarah. Hugo explained everything This was just Jennie's way of greeting, he said. She took your finger and put it in her mouth.
That was fine and good in Africa, but not in America! Later I put an end to that unsanitary habit.
Poor Jennie was terrified at my reaction. She crouched on the sofa, covering her head with her hands and rocking back and forth. You would have thought I had just beaten her. She looked so pitiful. I comforted Jennie and gave her my hand. She guided my pinky into her mouth and I gritted my teeth while she sucked on it.
And then Sarah, dear Sarah, held out her arms to the chimp. She wanted a hug!
Hugo told Jennie she could hug the baby. And I was so surprised, she shuffled over and gave Sarah the sweetest hug. I could hardly believe it when I saw this hairy animal cradIing my baby Sarah. She rocked her just like a mother. The baby looked at me and began flapping her arms, her little bald head bumping against the hairy chest of the chimpanzee. Isn't it odd how clearly I remember that first meeting? Oh dear...
Even at that age, Jennie understood some English. Now some of these primate researchers will tell you chimpanzees cannot really understand spoken English. That's ridiculous. That chimp understood almost thing you would say to her. You had to live with her to what I mean. When she, learned ASL--that's American Sign Language--you could ask her a question in English and she'd answer in ASL. Honesfly, I'd never met a awful group of people in my life than those primate researchers. That horrible Dr. Prentiss--
Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 3
When Jennie came in, the dogs hid under the sofa. They were afraid to death of her. Jennie sat at the kitchen table and carefully arranged all her tableware. And then she would sit there for an hour or more, waiting to be fed, fretting and hooting and chattering away. When she got older she got more impatient. She screamed and hooted as if we were staving her to death. Jennie just loved her food.
At first we fed her baby food. But it wasn't long before she insisted on. eating what we ate. She wanted to do everything we did. The food on her plate was never good enough; she had to eat ours. Most every morning she ate a slice of buttered toast, a banana, and a bowl of oatmeal and honey. Once in a while she would eat a piece of bacon, but she didn't like meat that much. Chicken and pork she would eat, but nothing else.
She looked so funny when she ate! You should have seen her with her little black eyes peeping above the tabletop. Oh my goodness. And her wispy hair stuck up from the dome of her head in the funniest way, and she made these little crunching noises as she ate her toast. And those jug ears! They stuck out and looked like big pink Christmas lights when the sun was behind them.
She was always suspicious about her food. Once in a while, you see, she would bite into something she hated. She sniffed at her food constantly. I suppose. she was never sure when that piece of toast might turn into, say, a hamburger with ketchup. She loathed hamburger with ketchup! And pickles. If there was pickle in there somewhere, watch out! When she got something she didn't like, she picked it up and threw it as hard as she could into the dining room. Tomatoes, baked beans, lobster; steak-all got thrown into the dining room at one time or another. I think she got that idea from watching the Three Stooges on television. They were always throwing food on that horrid program. Jennie could be so trying at times. There was a streak of ketchup on the kitchen ceiling from one of Jennie's hamburgers. It stayed there for years, long after Jennie was gone. It used to make me feel so sad, but I could never bring myself to get a ladder and scrub it off. It was like a memory; you hate to see them go. Memories, I mean.
Jennie looked so solemn when she was eating that you couldn't help laughing. When she chewed, the little hairs on her chin moved up and down and her eyebrows contracted as if she were thinking great thoughts. Well perhaps she was! After us, food was the most important thing in her life.
When she finished eating, there was no separating Jennie from her plate, cup, and spoon for washing. Heavens no. She guarded those with her life. She thought she would starve to death if those disappeared. She had a fit when I tried to wash them. They got so dirty; so absolutely filthy, that I was positive Jennie was going to get salmonella poisoning and spread it to the whole family. Finally Hugo waited under the tree one morning and stole them when Jennie dropped them. You should have heard her screaming. After that she let us have them, but she always kept her beady eyes fixed on them while I rinsed and loaded them in the dishwasher. Then she would wait right next to the dishwasher until they were done. The minute it was opened she would be reaching in there, rummaging about and rattling things around to get her precious tableware.
After three years she began rinsing the dishes herself. She wasn't exactly the most thorough dishwasher, but she had her style. First she licked the plates clean, and then she washed them. I can't begin to tell you how many dishes she broke. But when we had guests, the highlight of the evening was when Jennie cleared the table and rinsed the dishes. People could not get over the fact that an animal could do such a thing. They would always say, Will you look at that! We have to get one of our own! And then Jennie would drop a stack of dishes. Or take a bite out of a bar of soap. And that would be the end of that kind of talk! Hugo took a marvelous picture of her washing the dishes. Now let's see, where are those pictures?. Do you want to see any?
The first few years with Jennie were blissful. It was a happy period in our lives. Jennie made it a great adventure. Not that it was easy; toilet training Jennie was the hardest thing I think I've ever done. Oh my goodness! That ape was not going to be toilet trained, if it was the last thing she did. She tried, but it wasn't in her nature. When you live in the trees all day, I don't suppose it really matters where you go. I developed a system where I'd give her candy when she did it "right." She would do anything for a piece of candy. She tried so hard. It was so dear. She'd be playing in the kitchen and I'd see this expression on her face. And she'd run for the bathroom! And on the way there she'd stop and stick her hand in the candy jar. That was fatal. sometimes her reward was a little premature, and--oh dear--her diaper would be all soggy. And then do you know what she did? She'd put the candy back. All by herself. Jennie was so human, so utterly human. You had to see it to believe it. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 4
Jennie settled into suburban American life as if she had been born to it. She quickly developed a taste for television. We owned one of the latest models, a Vision-Aire De Luxe, molded in space-age brown plastic, with a bulbous screen and silver-painted dials. It cost $99.95, a large sum in those days. Jennie became an addict, and as long as the television was on she was content for hours at a time. In retrospect, I often wonder what effect the violence and aggression of television might have had on Jennie. In the mid-sixties, however; television was more benign than it is today, and it was even thought to be educational. Children were considered deprived if there was no television in the house.
Jennie's consumption of television was on the vocal side. While she watched, a stream of grunts, hoots, and squeaks issued from the den, punctuated by stamping or pounding during particularly exciting scenes, such as car chases and gunfights. She also favored programing that involved canned laughter. Human laughter fascinated her.
We first had an inkling of Jennie's fondness for television one Saturday shortly after my return from Africa. I woke up to the faint sounds of the television set floating up from the den. Watching the television was an early Saturday morning ritual with Sandy. It was an oddly comforting sound, one I had not heard in six months.
I found the two of them sitting cross-legged, Indian- style, on the carpet, watching the Three Stooges. Even after all these years I remember that particular program. The action was taking place in an elegant drawing room filled with people in formal dress, and the Three Stooges, themselves dressed in evening clothes, were throwing pies and food and rapping each other on the head and poking each other in the eyes, to the usual sound effects of squawking horns and pizzicato violins. I asked Sandy what the point of all this was, and I remember him explaining that a professor; as an experiment, had tried to make gentlemen out of the Three Stooges. This was the unhappy result. It was a takeoff on Pygmalion and it was particularly apt that Jennie found it amusing.
Jennie was transfixed, staring at the screen. Her little eyes glittered. I wondered what her simian brain was making of the program.
"Dad! Jennie likes to watch TV!" Sandy cried, as if reporting a revelation. 'Watch!"
He turned off the television set and sat back. The screen contracted to a point. Without missing a beat Jennie scooted over and turned it back on.
"He he heee!" she said as the picture slowly focused. She gripped the sides of the television and hopped up and down, her face inches from the screen.
"See, Dad? She can turn on the TV" Then he added, "Jennie, I can't see."
Jennie looked around at the sound of her name hut continued to block the screen.
"Move over!" Sandy shouted.
An advertisement came on. It depicted a ruggedly handsome man inhaling a cigarette to a chorus of voices singing about smoothness and taste. He exhaled with a sigh of satisfaction and the singing crescendoed. "Hooo heeee heee," Jennie said, as if singing along.
"Jennie! No! Dad, make her get out of the way," Sandy said.
The Three Stooges returned to the screen, to the theme song of "The Three Blind Mice." Under Sandy's protestations Jennie finally went back and sat down next to him and held his hand, with a worried look on her face. Already Sandy was becoming her best friend. She admired him and wanted to do whatever he did.
"What rubbish," I said jokingly "Maybe we should have left that poor animal in the jungle." But Sandy and Jennie were so engrossed in the unfolding drama that they did not hear me at all. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 5
It didn't take long before Jennie and Sandy were as thick I as thieves. Sandy bossed Jennie around, made her wait on him hand and foot. She trotted after him, just worshiping the ground he walked on. Sometimes she rode on his shoulders, gripping his ears. She looked so goofy up there, peering around! When Sandy went off to school, Jennie got upset. She climbed up to her tree house to watch him go off down the brook path with his books. She looked so miserable, rocking back and forth and hugging herself. During the day, she would keep climbing back up there to see if he was coming home. When he did show up, she gave a scream and went racing down the tree and just threw herself at him. When she got bigger she sometimes even knocked him down in her excitement. Her face was wonderfully expressive, and you could read it just like a human face.
Jennie was so affectionate and so loving. Of all her qualities, this was her most outstanding. She was always underfoot, begging for hugs or kisses--or to be tickled. That chimp lived for a tickle! Goodness! It was more important to her than food--and that's saying a lot. She needed affection more than any human child I've known. And she just adored Hugo. Hugo was so gentle and kind [... long pause]. Excuse me. When he came home from work, she hugged him and kissed him, laughing and squealing the whole time, and making this "hooooo ooooo" sound. She would hear his car in the driveway, and she would pound and stamp on the floor, or whirl around and around! My goodness, the things she knocked over! She broke every vase in the house, my grandmother's Sung porcelain, Uncle Nat's ivories. And she once tried to eat the Olmec jade head and then broke it in a fury when it didn't taste as she hoped. Oh my goodness!.She was always whirling! It was exhausting to have her around sometimes. She'd follow me around all day long, whimpering for a tickle or a hug.
Sandy never had a younger sibling to order around. Sarah was too young. And even when she got older; nobody was going to tell her what to do! So Sandy. thrived when Jennie came. He became much more self-assured and confident. They played every afternoon in the backyard. I could see them out the kitchen window. Oh! I used to watch them for hours! It was endlessly entertaining. Sandy had her playing this game he called "Space Invaders." Jennie was the alien. Oh my goodness. Of course, Jennie was thoroughly confused, but she always muddled through. I'll never forget watching them play that game. I wished Hugo had that movie camera during those days. Have you seen his movies of Jennie? Well, you must. You simply must
Space Invaders? It was something Sandy made up. Jennie was the alien invader from Alpha Centauri, and Sandy was the astronaut who saved the earth. Sandy had this "Lost in Space" ray gun that he got from some cereal package. He'd make Jennie stay out of the lawn, while he crept into bushes. She'd be standing there, looking so confused. Sometimes she'd try to follow him into the bushes. He was so impatient. He'd start lecturing her, "No, no! You stay there! Wait for me to come out!" And Jennie would stand there, a forlorn expression on her face! She hated to be scolded.
Then Sandy would come bursting out of the arborvitae, firing his gun. Yelling, "Die alien!" [Laughs] Jennie didn't usually die when she was supposed to. She just hopped up and down, squealing and trying to grab his gun. They'd get in a terrific tug-of-war sometimes over that gun. Sometimes it was too much for Sandy. Jennie wasn't playing by the rules! Well, she never played by the rules, in anything she did.
So Sandy had to demonstrate how to die. Oh my goodness. He'd clutch his chest and keel over with a terrible scream and begin writhing on the grass. He'd give out this awful, bloodcurdling scream, and he'd twitch and lie still. It always frightened Jennie so!
Poor Jennie. She'd squat next to him, poking him and backing off .Then she'd make that horrible grimace of fear and creep under the bushes. When she was frightened, she made a horrid face. It was really quite grotesque, all her teeth and pink gums exposed in a diabolical grin. I could hear her miserable whimpers from under the bushes. Her little heart was breaking, the poor thing, thinking Sandy had died!
And then Sandy would jump up. He'd cry out, "Ha! fooled you!" and Jennie would hug him, try to kiss him. She was so sweet, so caring. Always so concerned.
I hope I'm not giving you the wrong impression about Sandy. I remember thinking at the time, doesn't he know he's talking to an ape? It seemed quite ridiculous. But right from the beginning, Sandy talked to Jennie like she was a little sister--or rather a little brother. In a way Jennie seemed to understand. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 6
So we rolled out the red tricyde for Jennie to try out, and Sandy picked her up and put her on the seat.
You must remember that Jennie's last experience on a bicycle had not exacdy been pleasant. That chimp had a memory like a steel trap. She opened that pink mouth and let fly a shriek that fairly blew out the plate glass windows in the front of the shop. Poor Hoyt, he was just sweating with nervousness. Sandy lowered Jennie to the floor and she shut up. Thank goodness. Then she bent over and examined her knee. It was so touching; you see, she was worried she might have skinned her knee again!.
Sandy got on the tricycle and pedaled around the shop, saying, "Look, Jennie, isn't this fun?" And Jennie started her usual hop of excitement and stretched her arms toward the trike. She wanted to do everything that Sandy did. Sandy gave it to her and she climbed aboard. There was a tense moment of silence. Young Hoyt was looking on, his eyes popping. You see,Jennie had opposable thumbs on her feet like all chimpanzees. Her feet were really hands. What do you call that? Prehensile; she had prehensile feet. So instead of placing her feet on the pedals, she actually grabbed them with her feet. She gave a push with one leg and the trike inched forward. Then she gave a big push and the trike moved a few feet.
Well! When she felt herself moving, did she get excited!. She stood up in the seat and gave a big hoot of triumph. And then she began pedaling furiously She was much more dextrous with her feet than a human child. The trike shot forward and went careening around the shop. She knew how to pedal, but she didn't know how to steer. Sandy tried to grab the bars as she went by. Oh dear! She went straight into a row of bikes and they all came crashing down. Hugo whipped out his wallet and said we'd buy it right away, before any more damage was done.
But Jennie wanted to ride again. She grabbed the handlebars and began trying to pull the trike away from Sandy. A tug-of-war began. And Jennie began screeching with frustration. The noises she made when she was upset! Sandy wouldn't let her have it, and I started to yell at Jennie too. But of course nothing worked. She hung on to that trike with every ounce of her energy Jennie never listened to me; I was just her mother. Hugo was the only one she would obey, and even then not always.
We tried to pry Jennie away, but she just gripped harder. When that chimp held on to something, she had four hands to do it with, and you couldn't get anything away from her. And her grip! So Hugo, he just scooped her and the trike up together; carried them out to the station wagon, and shoved them both in the back. It was just one big tangle of shiny chrome and hairy limbs. When we got home, Hugo pulled her out, still clinging to the trike, and put them on the lawn. .We all backed off to watch. When Jennie saw that we were far enough away she untangled herself and got back on it. It wouldn't go on the lawn. So she gave it a few good whacks and when that didn't work, oh, did she get mad then! When Jennie had a tantrum, she would work up a screaming that was quite magnificent to hear; until she lost her breath and began to choke and gasp in her fury. At first I was positively frightened by her tantrums, but after a few of theim I could only laugh. She was like the boy who held his breath until he turned blue. Chimps are just as silly and absurd as human beings. Thank goodness we're not the only ridiculous species in the world!
Well, she finally got it working on the driveway, and Sandy showed her how to steer. And then Sandy got out his bike, and the two of them went riding off into the sunset. Anvway, that was how Jennie acquired her famous trike... Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 7
In April of 1967, Dr. Pamela Prentiss met Jennie for the first time. Jennie was an astute judge of human nature. When she first met a person, it did not take her long to make up her mind: either she liked him or she did not. She was particularly suspicious of overdone heartiness, pompousness, repressive people, and an excessive "niceness." Her ability to humiliate people who showed these qualities never ceased to amaze me.
We were therefore quite interested to see Jennie's reaction to Dr. Prentiss. We trusted Jennie's judgment even more, in some ways, than we trusted our own. In our minds, how Jennie reacted would be the determining factor as to whether we would allow her to participate in the research project.
We were playing with Jennie on the lawn when she ar rived. Dr. Prentiss made a rather dramatic first impression. She whipped up, in a mud-splattered Jeep, blond hair spilling over her shoulders, and a battered hat on her head that looked the twin of Jennie's old Borsalino. She was wearing blue jeans and a work shirt, and I immediately respected her for that. If she had appeared in a dress I would have been skeptical of her experience with chimpanzees.
Ignoring us, she came over tojennie and crouched in front of her.
"Hi, Jennie," she said. "My name's Pam. Do you want a hug?" She had an easy, seif-confident, unhurried way about her with Jennie that was exactly right, and Jennie responded by opening her arms wide. She took Jennie in and gave her a big hug. And then Jennie kissed her an unusually affectionate gesture to a stanger--specially a woman. Jennie usually preferred men.
Only after introducing herself to Jennie did Dr. Prentiss shake our hands. I liked her priorities. She was awkward and even a little defensive with us, and I suspected that she was one of those animal behaviorists who related better to her subjects than to her fellow human beings.
We retired to the living room. Sandy joined us, since the entire family would have to be involved. Dr. Prentiss outlined what their research goals and methodology would be for Jennie. The Center for Primate Research at Tufts had a captive colony of chimpanzees, all of whom were learning American Sign Language for the Deaf, or ASL. They needed a "control"; and Jennie would be that control. They wanted to see if Jennie, who was species- isolated and thoroughly socialized as a human being, would learn ASL differently from the colony's chimps.
The focus of the research project was more in the area of linguistics than primate behavior. The actual linguistic problems being posed were quite esoteric and are beyond the scope of this memoir. Indeed, they were difficult even for me to understand.
I was impressed by the careful way that Dr. Prentiss and her team had framed their research objectives. This was no fuzzy, open-ended plan, no woolly-headed idea to "teach a chimp sign language and see what happens." They wanted to explore precisely how chimpanzees quire "language" and how this compared to the theory language acquisition in human children.
It was a fascinating idea and Lea and I saw the value of including Jennie in the project. I had my own pothesis: I felt that Jennie, being raised in a warm, loving human environment, would learn much faster than group of caged chimpanzees who were not socialized human beings. After all, language, whether it is ASL English, is a human invention.
I remember voicing my opinion to Dr. Prentiss that day She glanced at me with surprise. "Dr. Archibald," said rather crisply "in our research, we try to avoid forming premature hypotheses. There is always the danger a biased observer skewing the data." This was a ra typical response from Dr. Prentiss. She was a Sc through and through, sometimes even at the expense people's feelings.
Dr. Prentiss explained that both Lea and I would have to learn ASL. Then she turned to Sandy. Did he want to learn ASL?
Sandy was more excited about the project than any us.
"Yeah!" he cried out. "'Does this mean me and Jennie'll be able to talk to each other?"
"Yes, if you both work hard," said Dr. Prentiss.
"Wow, cool," Sandy said.
Sarah was only two at the time, and we felt that would probably pick it up naturally as she grew older. It would be a valuable experience for all of us.
Learning ASL would not be difficult, Dr. Prentiss explained, because Jennie would probably learn only five or ten signs in the first year. Over the course of the five-year project she could be expected to learn perhap one hundred signs. She would never be able to communicate as well as a deaf person, she explained, and her signing would not be as crisp or as rapid. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 8
Yes, Jennie was very kind; it was her most outstanding quality. It was just that sometimes she didn't know her own strength, and she didn't understand that people were a lot more fragile than she was. sometimes she was rougher than she intended, you see. Did you know that a female chimpanzee is three to five times stronger than a man?
Her kindness wasn't only to humans. Did I tell you about Jennie's pet kitten? Jennie just loved looking at pictures of animals in magazines, and she particularly liked cats. One day Sandy and Jennie and I were looking at a magazine, I forget which, and there was a picture of two cute kittens peeking out of a mailbox.
Jennie signed, like this, Cat, cat. Sandy was there and he asked Jennie if she wanted a cat. Well! Jennie loved the idea. Jennie started signing Give cat, ca give cat me.
Well why not? So we went to the pound and brought Jennie a kitten. It was a little gray-and-white Siamese cross that Sandy named Booger T Archibald. Please. don't ask me why. We set it free in front of Jennie. Now was that a mistake. We should have known better. Jennie did not like surprises. If a package arrived and was put carelessly in the hallway, Jennie would sometimes be frightened of it and hit or stamp on the package. She managed to break. a piece of Lalique glass my mother had sent, just stomping on the box. And this was after the post office had done their damnedest with it!
Anyway when Jennie saw the kitten she signed Bad cat bad cat angry! and rushed at it,. her hair all sticking up, and we barely saved its life. We were horrified. Then Jennie went and skulked in a corner while we talked about what we were going to do. Meanwhile, the kitten started wandering around. The next thing we knew it was heading in Jennie's direction. Sandy jumped up to fetch it, but Jennie reached out and tenderly picked it up and started stroking it. She'd just been frightened, that's all.
After that, they were inseparable. Jennie lugged that poor kitten around night and day. She put it on her back and Booger would cling for all he was worth while Jennie went about her business. At other times she would cradle it in her arms just like a baby and rock while it purred away like a little motor. She even tasted its food and made horrid faces. Cat food was the epitome of what Jennie considered bad food. All meaty and fishy tasting.
She showed real tenderness toward Booger. Booger wasn't quite so thrilled, I think, to be the property of .a chimpanzee. If. Booger was eating and Jennie heard something interesting going on in the other room, she picked it up and carried it with her; not thinking that maybe the poor little thing would like to finish its dinner first. That poor cat was carried around day and night. It was never allowed to just sleep on the sofa and be a kitten.
Jennie and Sandy used to argue about the kitten. There was no role in "Space Invaders" for a cat. Sandy would tell Jennie to put the cat down and Jennie would refuse, putting the cat on her back and taking up her position on the lawn. And Sandy would order her to put down the cat, and she'd sign Jennie's cat! Of course, while. she signed she'd still be holding the cat, and the poor thing would be slung about. Once, when Jennie finally put down the cat, she signed Stay, stay! I could hardly stop laughing.
Jennie signed to everything: animals, people, pictures in books. She never figured out that animals couldn't sign and that only a few people could sign. I told you about how she signed to the toilet. She just couldn't stop expressing herself Jennie had Booger for only three months. Then one day in the morning, we heard Jennie scream in her room and pound on the door. By this time we simply had to lock her into her room at night, or she would go wandering about and cause no end of trouble.
We rushed in and found Booger dead. His neck was broken. Jennie was simply terrified of the dead cat. She would reach out to touch it with a trembling hand and jerk away at the last moment. She was whimpering and hugging herself over and over again. With that hideous grimace of fear. Cat, cat, cat, she signed, and then Bad cat, bad, bad. I think she had rolled over on the cat during the night. The cat used to sleep in her bed, you see. Or maybe she played with it too roughly. Anyway, that was the end of Booger T Archibald.
I'll tell you a most interesting story .Years later, at least three years later, we were looking through some old photo albums. And there was a picture of Jennie holding her cat. She slapped her hand on the page and looked intently at the picture. She wouldn't let us turn the page.
Then, all of a sudden, she signed Jennie's cat! Like this, with both hands, Jennie's cat! And she fell silent--I mean. she stopped signing, of course--and she just stared at the picture with the saddest expression on her face. Every time we tried to turn the page, she'd put out her hand to stop us. She looked at the picture for a good ten or fifteen minutes and then started signing, very slowly and clumsily, as if to herself, Sorry, sorry, sorry. It was awfully sad. Brad and Trouble

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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 9
Let's see... Sometime In 1968 I got a call from the Ed Sullivan show. I don't know how they got our name, probably slipped to them by Dr. Prentiss. She was a careerist. Always trying to advance herself. Anyway, there was a lady on the telephone. I've forgotten her name.
She asked, oh so sweetly, if I was Mrs. Archibald. The lady with the darling chimpanzee?
Some darling! I said yes.
She wanted to know, Would Jennie and I like to be on television? She said this as if being on television was the apotheosis of a person's life.
I told her no thank you.
There was~a shocked silence on the other end. Well! She said, this was the Ed Sullivan show.
But, I said, I'm not interested in being on the Ed Sullivan show.
Her tone changed. That hard-bitten New York voice finally showed itself. Honestly, television. people are such horrors. She was prepared to offer a generous honorarium. She wanted to come up from New York to meet the "precious" chimpanzee.
Well why not? She came over one evening. She wanted Hugo and me and the chimpanzee's "trainer" on the show. Oh how I wish Dr. Prentiss had been there to hear herself described as a "trainer"! We talked for a while. It was a rather unexceptionable idea and they were offering a tidy sum. Hugo--who you know had inherited gobs of money from his father--bargained and wrangled over the fee arid got it way up, and then told the woman to donate it directly to the ASPCA. The look on her face! There would be no"trainer"--poor Dr, Prentiss--just the two of us and Jennie.
We took the train to New York. They wouldn't let Jennie fly, but we found we could just take her on a train without even asking. They put us up in the Americana Hotel. It was brand new then, a big ugly New York glass box. That day we went shopping for a new outfit for Jennie. Everywhere we went, crowds of people gathered and ooohed and aaaahed. Jennie was the center of attention and she loved every minute of it. She actually stopped traffic on Fifth Avenue! Hugo was having a marvelous time observing everyone's reactions. Always the anthropologist. But most people merely glanced at her and kept right on going. It was New York, after all.
Jennie was being so well-behaved that we decided to take a chance and go to Bloomingdale's. A woman screamed when we tried to get on the elevator so we took the escalator. We went to the children's clothing section, and I ran down a salesperson. She was terrified Jennie was going to soil herself in the dressing room or infect the clothes with a disease.
I held up an outfit for Jennie and signed Jennie like this?
Well! Don't ask a chimp a question like that. She wanted everything! Give, give, give! was all she ever signed back.
The salesgirl watched this for a while and then asked Hugo what we were doing. Hugo replied that we were discussing which outfit would be most appropriate for Jennie's appearance on the Sullivan show. He had a twinkle in his eye, of course.
Well! What excitement then. Oh my The Ed Sullivan show! She ran to get the other salesgirls and they came rushing over. Pretty soon we were surrounded by people. It was like that everywhere we went: Jennie was an instant celebrity.
The outfit we bought was so cute. A red-and-white checkered blouse with a big blue bow; a pair of blue pants, and brown-and-white saddle shoes. Big shoes. She needed them big to fit those long feet that were really hands. She strutted. around in front of the admiring crowd, hooting and grunting, with a big smile plastered across her face. She could be such a show-off.
That evening we were brought over to the studio in a car, and given a room all to ourselves. They called it the Green Room. We had brought some toys, and Jennie played with them while we sat there, feeling more and more nervous. Neither one of us said anything, but I knew we were both imagining all kinds of horror scenes. Anything could have happened. The Ed Sullivan show was live, you know.
Then we were brought on to the set. Ed Sullivan was just as hunched and cadaverous-looking in person as he was on television. I don't remember much of what we said. I do wish I'd gotten a tape of the show. Perhaps I should write to NBC, or was it ABC?
Ed Sullivan started off with something like, "We have a chimpanzee named Jennie who speaks sign language. Jennie, say hello to our viewers."
I signed Say Hello and Jennie signed, Hello hello hello! Hugo told the story of finding Jennie, how he delivered her right there in the jungle. I talked about raising a chimpanzee as a daughter. He wanted to know what our other children thought and I told them about Sandy signing with Jennie. And then Ed Sullivan asked Jennie some more questions and made some silly jokes and that was it. Well, not, quite. Jennie gave us quite a scare. In the middle of the session Jennie signed several times. Ed Sullivan asked, "What's she saying now?" and we had to make up something I think we said she was asking for a banana. I'm sure there were some ASL viewers who were rolling on the floor over that one! We really didn't know whether she was going to make it, or whether she was just looking for a reaction. But all turned out well. She may have been lying. You know, she often signed Dirty when she wanted to cause a ruckus or get out of doing something. She knew how fearful we human beings were of her bodily functions! Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 10
Our family took an August vacation in Maine every year, at a saltwater farm originally bought by my father. It was located near a town called Franklins Pond Harbor; a fishing village along the shores of Muscongus Bay. The property had over a hundred acres of fields and woods and a half mile of rocky shoreline, with a small cove and cobble beach.
These August holidays were a vacation for all of us, particularly Jennie. She was a very busy chimpanzee during the year; with ASL lessons three days a week, going to the museum and participating in cognitive experiments two days a week, and religious lessons once a week from Rev. Palliser. Our suburban Kibbencook neighbors would have envied Jennie's schedule; had she been human, it would have been the fast track to Harvard.
Sandy and Jennie were as close as human twins. They went everywhere together. As a result, there was not a morning that Sandy went off to school that Jennie didn't become anxious and distressed. She could never understand why he had to go away. In Maine, however; everything was different. Jennie could spend all her time with Sandy. Sandy had no one else to play with, and they spent hours roaming the woods, fishing for crabs in the tide pools, looking for a rumored buried treasure on one of the nearby headlands. Jennie was allowed to run free in Maine. The nearest neighbor was half a mile away, and Jennie was far too cowardly to venture that far on her own. We could release her to play about in the fields and orchard, and we did not even have to keep an eye on her. If she broke a few branches, screamed, or threw apples, it was perfectly fine.
Jennie's freedom in Maine had a curious effect on her personality. Instead of making her more wild and difficult to control, it seemed to make her calmer and more obedient. Her life in Maine, I theorized, more closely replicated the free life that chimpanzees lead in the bush, and as a result she was happier and less anxious.
Next to the house stood an old post-and-beam barn with a loft and hay mow. The interior of posts resembled a jungle gym and Jennie spent hours in the barn, climbing around and dangling from the heights. It worried Lea a great deal, and she tried to put a stop to it but I pointed out to her that, after all, Jennie was a chimpanzee. Sandy was forbidden to climb on the beams, and that frustrated Jennie and Sandy alike. She would scamper out on a beam and start signing: Play, play, Sandy play. Sandy would sign back No, Sandy not allowed. The barn loft had an old bed, where Jennie slept.
The old-apple orchard in the backyard was Jennie's favorite place to play. It was like a jungle gym hanging with her favorite fruit. She climbed into the crown of a tree, where she could watch the comings and goings of the family and eat apples until she was sick: She defended and protected her apples with vigilance. One morning we heard a scream and saw Jennie pile out of the barn and head down to the orchard, where two deer had the temerity to be eating her apples. She screeched and threw a rock at them as they bounded away in terror. None of us had the courage to pick apples when Jennie was around.
I spent much time sitting on the stone porch and watching Jennie swinging in the orchard. She was most like the ape she was when playing in those trees, hooting and chattering to herself in between stuffing apples into her mouth. She could eat enormous quantities of apples; I Once counted while Jennie ate twenty apples in a sitting.
It was in the orchard where Jennie acquired a taste for alcohol. One late-summer day in 1969, we could not find Jennie anywhere, and Lea and Sandy went through the fields calling for her. They finally found her in the orchard, fast asleep in the tall grass. When they woke her up, she acted groggy and unnatural. She waddled back to the barn and got into bed, which was highly unusual in the middle of the day. She was fine the next morning, and bright and early we watched her heading straight for the orchard. There, she began scooping rotten apples off the ground and eating them, although there were many ripe apples in the tree. We wondered why, until she began to stagger around like a drunk, laughing and tumbling through the grass, and then we understood: she was becoming intoxicated on the fermented fruit. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 11
Just as with human siblings who are close in age, Jennie and Sarah did not often see eye to eye. Jennie and Sarah were both five years old in the summer of 1969. Their relationship could be characterized as a Mexican standoff, They had very different personalities. Sarah, even from a young age, was quite fastidious, and she objected to Jennie's rambunctiousness. Where Sarah liked order, Jennie liked chaos. Sarah liked silence. Jennie liked noise. Sarah was a thinker; Jennie was a doer. Sarah was always smiling and quiet and sweet. Jennie was loud and liked to tease. They did not have much in common. Sarah had not learned ASL with the enthusiasm of Sandy, but she knew enough to scold, insult, and threaten Jennie, and set her firmly in her place.
Sarah, for all her sweetness, had a toughness underneath that intimidated Jennie. Jennie's modus operandi was identify and exploit weakness, but she never could find a chink in Sarah's armor. On the other hand, Sarah knew Jennie's weaknesses--her greedy materialism, her fear of rejection, and her upset at seeing human beings cry. She exploited them whenever the need arose. Sarah did not go out of her way to put Jennie in her place, but when Jennie crossed some invisible boundary Sarah knew how to react.
Even at. five Sarah was adept at controlling Jennie. One time in Maine Jennie broke a toy of Sarah's and hid the pieces under a chair in the living room. Sarah found them and, without saying a word to anybody went up to Jennie's loft and scattered the pieces in Jennie's bed, carefully pulling up the covers. Another time Jennie stole one of Sarah's favorite shirts and got it filthy playing in the dirt. Sarah caught her, but instead of trying to get the shirt back (which would have been impossible), she went up to Jennie's room, took out a shirt of hers, and flapped it around in Jennie's face. Jennie was protective of her "things," and when she saw Sarah waving her shirt about she tried to take off Sarah's and get her own back, signing Give shirt! Give shirt! Sarah just signed Phooey and walked away, while Jennie screamed in frustration, whacking the ground with both hands.
Jennie always seemed to know when the Maine vacation was coming up, and she became restless in the weeks leading up to August. When we started packing the car for Maine, she became almost uncontrollable. She would race about the house, scurrying up and down the stairs, out to the car and back in, signing Go! Go! Go car! Hurry! Sometimes she would pound on the car parked in the driveway and sign Bad car! Bad! as if the car itself were holding things up.
Jennie knew every landmark on the drive, and as we neared the farmhouse Jennie would become more and more excited. A large wooden Indian outside a shoe factory outlet always set her off, because it meant we were about to turn off the highway. Ten minutes later as we turned in the driveway and the barn loomed into view, Jennie would lose control entirely and begin a pant-hoot that would build in intensity until it ended in a drawn-out scream of magnificent intensity.
From a telephone call to Sarah Archibald Burnham of Manhattan.
I got your letters, I got your messages. You can call me until the end of time, and I won't talk to you. I just won't. I have nothing to say I don't think you or anybody else has any business prying into our family's private affairs. I will not read a letter. I will not answer a letter. So please don't bother. I don't mean to be rude, and maybe you're even a nice person, I don't know.
I will say one thing just one thing. I've never said this before. But why not. My father's dead and it can't hurt him now. It should be said. It took me a long time and a lot of help to figure this out. I want at least this one thing in your book, if you have the guts to print it. I mean it. Print whatever garbage you're going to print, but put this in there somewhere:
I hated that chimpanzee. And I'll tell you why my father loved that chimpanzee more than he did me.
So now it's said. Good-bye. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 12
The truth is that by the time Jennie reached four or five our lives had become--how shall I say it--anarchistic. When you've got a chimp living in your house, you find out soon enough who your real friends are. Many of our friends stopped visiting. Some of them were afraid of Jennie. Others found her noise or activity too trying. But we had many friends who loved Jennie. You had to love her to enjoy a visit to our house, particularly because you were likely to go home with broken glasses, a soiled tie, or a mussed hairdo. If you were lucky. Jennie's ability to create mischief knew no bounds.
People talk about the terrible tows with children. With chimpanzees, I'd call it the terrible twos, threes, fours. And fives and sixes. Oh, when I think about the things she did! I'll just give you a few examples. She'd climb up to the kitchen cabinets, take out ajar of honey, eat a few mouthfuls and then leave it sideways on the living room carpet. Open. I would be furious, but Hugo would say, "Did you see how she unscrewed that lid? Isn't that amazing?" He didn't have to deal with the mess. Or the time Jennie. removed the back of the television set and ripped out the tubes and wires with a great shower of sparks. She could have burned down the house. You see, Hugo, in one of his experiments, taught Jennie how to use a screwdriver. What a mistake that was! We took away the screwdriver, but she found one later and hid it. We found that. one, but a few weeks later she'd gotten another one. We started finding handles unscrewed, and door hinges dangling, and locks removed from doors. I was beside myself, but for the life of me I couldn't find where she had hidden that darn screwdriver.
I tried signing to Jennie: Where screwdriver? But she was a little liar and kept saying, Don't know. That's another thing she learned from those experiments, how to lie. I got mad and signed Angry! Phooey! Where screwdriver? But she stayed cool as a cucumber. Don't know don't know, with a guilty look in her eye. Wild horses would not drag that information out of her. This went on for a few days, and then there was a quiet spell, and we thought maybe she had lost the screwdriver. Well! One day, the screws on the liquor cabinet were removed and the bottle of gin gone. I went running up to her room and, sure enough, there she was, lying on the floor, giggling and clicking her teeth. Dead drunk! She'd taken a bottle of gin and a tube of toothpaste, and a dish, and she'd squeezed out a little toothpaste, and mixed it with gin, stirred it around with her finger, and slurped it up. And then repeated the process. She reeked of Crest and gin.. It was revolting.
When she saw us, she tried to get up but she fell back laughing. And then she was sick all over herself. I was wild, but Hugo found the whole thing fascinating. Why, he says, do you see what this means? Jennie has the ability to deceive! To plan ahead! Or some such rot. I can't remember what it proved, except that it proved Jennie needed a good licking. So I locked her in the bathroom, which coincidentally happened to be where she had hidden the screwdriver, and the little vixen unscrewed the doorknob and escaped. That's how I found it. It was in bathroom cabinet. Here I had turned the house upside down and there it was, in plain sight.
That was the way it went. Jennie would find ever more clever ways to get into mischief, Hugo would go on and on about her ingenuity while I cleaned up the mess. Do I sound a little resentful? I suppose I am. Hugo had all the fun, while I was mopping the floor.
Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 13
For years, we wondered when Sandy would lose interest Jennie. They were very close, but at a certain point, we figured, a boy moves on to other things. If you know what I mean. Pretty soon he'll he thinking about girls, and getting his driver's license. And Jennie would have to find another friend.
Our other worry was with the teenage years in general. We anticipated some trouble. Mix this with an excitable chimpanzee and heaven only knows what will happen. It was the tail end of the sixties, and some of our neighbors had had a lot of trouble. The Millers' son, down the street, died of a drug overdose, and there was the Newcomb girl's suicide. The Hoyt boy was killed in Vietnam, of course, and there were so many dreadful car accidents. Oh dear, there are so many things that can happen to a child in the world! When. you have children, that's when you realize the world is a dangerous place. You really do.
I was always so worried about Sandy. He was vulnerable in a way that Sarah wasn't. He was sweet and innocent, even when his hair stuck out like a rat's nest. He had good values. And good values are the best protection a world like this. You see, a lot of those other families hadn't raised their children with any decent values. They were so focused on success and money, and having manners, that these kids had no foundation. When they rebelled, they had nothing to fall back on. They had gone to a restrictive country club and Boy Scouts and ballroom dancing classes and sworn their allegiance to the flag every morning, year after year. Well, I ask you, what of a value system is that? They had done everything parents wanted. When they hit eighteen and saw their country was sending them to die in a jungle on the other side of the world, well! No wonder they rebelled. You can imagine the shock.
We raised our children differently. We encouraged to think on their own. We didn't tell them what to do, or make them. cut their hair. If they wanted to look ridiculous, well why not? We let them make their own decisions. So when Sandy rebelled, he could reject us and our life-style, hut he still had something to fall back on. Today he may not be the outward success that society labels as important, but he's always had strong values. That, to me, is what really counts. When he finds his niche in the world, he'll do something worthwhile.
Sandy turned fourteen on August 15, 1971 Jennie was six. The first thing that happened was when Sandy stopped playing chess. He was a very good chess player, you know and he won several school tournaments. And then he suddenly lost interest. He became sullen and slouchy. And his room! You've never seen a mess like it. Hugo and I knew the teen years had arrived.
The curious thing was, as Sandy got older he and Jennie remained just as close. He would go to a party and Jennie would go with him. When Sandy stayed out late and I was beside myself with worry, Jennie would be with him. When Sandy went to the bridge, Jennie went along.
Oh dear. The bridge was a place where all the teenage kids. hung out,. It was down there past the Kibbencook Golf Course, where the old Boston and Albany railroad crossed the Charles River. The trestle itself was closed off but the kids would gather under the bridge, alongside the river. They would light a fire and sit around and drink beer. I'm not sure exactly what went on there but none of it was good. There were girls there too. I worried terribly when Sandy went there. I didn't want to forbid him from going there, because of course that's the worst thing you can do with a teenage child. He would have' gone anyway and that would have encouraged him to he deceitful. The only thing we absolutely demanded from our children was honesty. And you know, the easiest way to make something attractive to a teenage child is to forbid him. from doing it.
So when Sandy was thirteen or fourteen he started going to the bridge. It was just across the golf course, within walking distance. Even at thirteen, Sandy into a radical intellectual. He had started to grow his hair and he had some books by Russian anarchists, Bakunin or something, .that he pretended to read and understand. He hung a burned and torn-up American over his bed, with a big peace sign painted over it. He was starting to spout a lot of nonsense. He sold his coin collection and gave the money to the Black Panthers. It happened so fast, as fast as it took to grow his hair. I mean, what were we going to do with this genius fourteen-year-old, kid who was spouting Trotskyism and sending money to the Black Panthers?
You'd think a chimpanzee would be a bit of a "drag" to a budding young anarchist. Not so. What we, hadn't realized was just how attached Sandy was to Jennie. Sandy didn't out grow Jennie as we expected. On the contrary Sandy's friends, far from rejecting Jennie, all .decided Jennie was the "coolest." [laughs.] That's what happened. Jennie became totally "hip," the hippest of hip. She drank, beer, I'm sure she smoked pot with them and heaven only knows what other drugs they gave went along with everything they did. I shouldn't say "went along"; I'm sure Jennie demanded to participate in whatever they were doing. I hate to think what went on at the bridge. I really hate to think about that. We talked to Sandy, we educated ourselves about the dangers of drugs and a few times when I just couldn't stand it any more I made Hugo go out there to get Sandy and Jennie and bring them home. Hugo talked to Sandy about sex and responsibility and things like that. Or at least he said he did. Maybe I'm exaggerating, and maybe nothing really that bad happened out there. I don't know. Oh dear. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 14
I felt I was losing control of both my children at once--Sandy and Jennie. We worried about the effect of whatever Sandy was doing on Jennie--drugs, late nights, whatever. She was becoming increasingly unruly and rebellious. Harold had warned us that as Jennie got older she would get more aggressive. All chimpanzees do, whether home-raised or not. Hugo and Harold had long talks about it and Harold felt that Jennie's aggressiveness was normal. I don't know. Jennie picked up a lot of Sandy's rebelliousness and refused to do everything we told her. Her favorite sign became Phooey! which she used as a kind of "go to hell" curse. As if that wasn't bad enough, someone--one of Sandy's friends, I'm .sure taught her the "finger." Do you know what I mean, the "finger"? Oh dear. We punished her severely when she made that gesture, but in retrospect I think it only made things worse. Jennie learned it would provoke a big reaction from us. And do you know what Hugo said? "Oh, isn't it fascinating how Jennie has learned the power of the signed word." Honestly this is what I had to deal with. Jennie giving the "finger" to some absolute stranger at a stop sign, and Hugo musing about how fascinating it was. He'd say, "Who can take it seriously? She's only a chimpanzee." But what did it say about your family? About how we were raising our children? And that chimp knew exactly when to make that gesture to horrify everyone around her.
Christmas dinner, I think it was 1972, the doorbell rang. Jennie raced to the door she was always the first to answer the door and opened it. There was my mother. Jennie blocked the door and made that terrible gesture. My mother burst into tears. You see, she had just lost her husband, my father, and this was her first Christmas alone. It was so grotesque. Jennie blocking her and making this hateful gesture. I don't know how she was able to hurt someone like that. And Jennie liked my mother.
Then of course the Jehovah's Witnesses came by and Jennie stole the lady's hat. When she asked for it back, Jennie made that gesture. It was so embarrassing. I suppose I should look at the bright side, because they never came back. Clearly we were beyond saving! [Laughs.]
And then Dr. Prentiss. Jennie started up on that with Dr. Prentiss, and she came marching into the house with her pinched face and said we needed to have a serious talk. As if I were some monster of a mother. She was b-tch. Excuse me. You should've heard the truth on her! When she lost her temper the words that came out of her mouth! She swore like a sailor.
She was also outraged at Jennie's drinking. "Forcing liquor on a poor defenseless animal." Defenseless! And Sandy started being so rude to Dr. Prentiss. Oh dear. He was rude to everybody of course. But he was so smart, and he knew exactly how to get under Dr. Prentiss's skin. He would accuse her of conducting "fascistic behavior modification experiments" on his "sister." Her relation to Jennie was "bourgeois," whatever that was supposed to mean. The accusations were, I have to admit, unfair. If I for a moment thought that Dr. Prentiss was abusing Jennie in any way I would have sent her packing. It made Dr. Prentiss wild to be accused like that. She considered herself a bit of a rebel, you see, and to be accused of having middle-class values made her hopping mad. She felt Sandy was trying to turn Jennie against her. And I think he was, but it didn't work. Jennie loved and trusted Dr. Prentiss. I don't really know why, but she did. Sandy you know, was the first to see through that woman.
I will say this however: Sandy never said anything to Jennie that was bad about me. We had our differences, Sandy never tried to turn Jennie against me. Or Hugo.
Everything seemed to change so fast. It was a very difficult time. Oh, it was so very difficult. I had this feeling something awful was going to happen. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 15
By the fall of 1971, we noticed that Jennie was growing fast. Every day she seemed to get bigger and stronger, more self-assured and less dependent. She abandoned many of her childish ways. She stopped hoarding her toys and guarding them obsessively. She became more at ease with strangers. She was less likely to throw a tantrum, but when she did her tantrums were more prolonged and violent.
At the same time our son was going through the throes of adolescence. He grew his hair long and participated in a protest of the Vietnam War in Kibbencook Square. It was a tame protest--a candlelight March for Peace--and we insisted on coming along, partly because we agreed with the protesters, but mostly because we did not want to see Sandy arrested or injured if the police should overreact. Jennie, naturally, came along as well.
The marchers gathered at the high school parking lot at sunset and proceeded down Grove Street to the clock tower in Kibbencook Square. There were several hundred marchers, mostly young people from the high school, along with a number of worried parents. Sandy and his young friends wore flowers in their hair and they carried candies. Lea and I followed behind, keeping one eye on them and another on the police. We were worried that one of Sandy's less intelligent friends would light up a marijuana cigarette and give the police a reason to arrest everyone.
They linked hands and sang "Give Peace a Chance," with Jennie right in there with the thick of them. She had no idea what was going on, but she loved the crowd, the singing, and the undercurrent of excitement. She was in her element.
The police and a National Guard unit lined the marchers' route, but there were no pointed guns or tear gas. The police were well behaved and the only unpleasant note came from a group of working-class men in black leather jackets, who were protesting our protesting with jeers and catcalls. Kibbencook was not a hotbed of radicalism, and even antiwar marches were organized with a certain decorum. It was a thoroughly suburban protest.
During the march, Jennie behaved herself beautifully. She did not start a riot, attack the police, burn the flag, or spit on the National Guardsmen. It was an odd sight indeed seeing these young teenagers treating this ape as a friend--albeit a rather special friend. Jennie would sign away until she was blue in the face with Sandy's friends, but none of them understood what she was saying without Sandy translating. This never seemed to matter much to them or to Jennie. She made herself understood in one way or another.
The local press was there, and the next day there was a picture of Jennie and a line of protesters, hands linked, on the front page of the Kibbencook Townsman. There were several nasty letters to the editor making crude comparisons between Jennie and the marchers. The letters made Sandy angry and he responded with a letter to the editor pointing out that chimpanzees were perhaps more intelligent than certain American politicians, since war was unknown among apes. This was, of course, before Dr. Jane Goodall's observation of a deadly conflict between two chimpanzee groups in Gombe.
The march deeply impressed me. It was a moving experience, seeing young people so earnestly concerned about the morality of our involvement in Vietnam. While many of their ideas may have been naive or youthfully excessive, their hearts were in the right place. It was one of the first times in the history of America where a large segment of the population. had questioned the morality of war--not just a war but any war. They were not going to accept blindly the values of their parents.
Sandy had just turned fourteen. I felt that I was witnessing the beginnings of a great sea change in America. I was deeply moved. Through this terrible ordeal of Vietnam, I believed, we might finally see America becoming what the founding fathers had envisioned, a nation with a moral purpose in the world and a nation that cared about all its citizens. We might see the end of the cynical Nixon-Kissinger version of realpolitik. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Preston part 16
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0812565339/o/002-9450577-8972814
Is the web page to order Jennie if you are interested. Or just go to http://www.amazon.com and type in Jennie. I have one more part of the book that I'm going to share and it is in four parts and will share it in the next four Apes and Monkeys' notes 17, 18, 19 and 20. When I first started reading the book I thought it was a true story. It seem like it could have been true from what I have learned about non-human primates.
Jane Goodall: "I love Jennie, the book and the chimp. You have created a very remarkable person and a very important book."
Acknowledgments by the Author, Douglas Preston:
"I owe a great debt to my agents, Tom Wallace and Matthew Snyder. I would like to thank my editor; Bob Wyatt, for his excellent work. I am deeply indebted to Mary G. Smith of the National Geographic Society for her enthusiastic support and excellent advice. I would particularly like to express my great appreciation to Dr. Douglas Schwartz, President of the School of American Research, for his support. I thank Stuart Woods and Lincoln Child for their helpful comments, and I am grateful for the editorial suggestions of the No Poets Society of Santa Fe. And I thank my father , Jerome Preston, Jr., for his very helpful advice, and my grandfather, Jerome Preston, Sr., for his great support.
I would like to thank Nina Root, Chairwoman of the Department of Library Services at the American Museum of Natural History, for allowing me access to the Raven papers and films. I would also like to thank the late Dr. Harold Shapiro of the American Museum for sharing with me his vivid reminiscences of Henry Raven and the chimpanzee called Meshie.
Finally, I want to thank my wife, Christine, for all her support.
The fictional characters in this novel are not based on real people and any resemblance to such is purely coincidental. As for the real people and organizations who appear by name in this novel, most of what is written about them is not true. Proxmire did not, for obvious reasons, award a Golden Fleece to the Jennie project Walter Sullivan did not write an article about Jennie. Teddy Kennedy did not meet Jennie. Nor did the Boston Globe, the Boston Herald-Traveler, Esquire magazine, Psychology Today magazine, or any other magazine or newspaper report on Jennie. Jennie did not appear on the Ed Sullivan show. I apologize for any negative opinions expressed by fictional characters about real people. The reader will be able to separate fact from fiction in these instances." Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 17
At the age of fifteen arid a half; Sandy got his learner permit. God save us. Of course, he had to have an adult in the car until he was sixteen, or something like that. That didn't stop him. He began taking the car out he when wasn't supposed to, and Jennie of course went with him. Jennie loved to ride in the car. She would hang out the window and make big vulgar noises and give people the "finger." I just cringe when I think about it. Hugo was not a stern disciplinarian, and I had more than I could handle.
That winter, the winter of 1973, the big "event" occurred. That was what made Jennie famous all over again. There was an ice storm and everything was covered with a layer of ice. I was out shopping and Hugo was holed up in his study, where he always was. Sandy snuck out the Falcon, and they went down to the high school parking lot. Well, I came home and the car was gone. I thought, that's funny, Hugo didn't say he was going out. And just then Hugo came out of his office. I said, "Where's Sandy and Jennie?"
He said, "Why, aren't they right here?"
As if on cue, the telephone rang. Oh my goodness. It was the Kibbencook town police. They were in an uproar down there. We were told to come down immediately. I could hear in the background this appalling sound that could only be simian in origin. The policeman was hopping mad. He started yelling at me over the telephone, all about how I was going to get a big bill for damages and the animal control people were there because Jennie had bitten a policeman and she would have to he destroyed.
Oh my goodness, you can imagine what we were thinking. We rushed down there. The whole place was in a shambles. The dogcatcher had arrived to get Jennie. The poor man was scared to unlock the jail cell where Jennie was shut in. Jennie was tearing up the place. Oh dear. Forgive me for laughing. It seems funny but at the time we weren't at all amused.
It seems that Sandy had been skidding around the lot, I think they called it "doing donuts." Making the car spin around in circles on the ice. The police arrived and this one officer ordered Sandy out of the car. The man was angry and acting like a bully, as policemen do. His name was Russo. Bill Russo. Well, I'd known Bill for years, and he was a bit, shall we say limited. He knew Sandy, or should have known him, but I guess he didn't recognize him with the long hair. Thought he was some kind of crazed hippie. So he ordered Sandy up against the car with his arms out, and started searching him. Well, you know how protective Jennie was. She tumbled out of the car with a scream and gave Russo a good bite on the leg, really opened it up. That chimp was strong.
Like the complete ass that he was, Russo drew his service revolver and pointed it at Jennie. Sandy, of course, went berserk, screaming and grabbing at the gun and wrapping himself around Jennie. He called Russo the most horrid names, fascist pig and that sort of thing. It must have been just awful, thinking this moron was going to shoot Jennie. I'm sure he would have if Sandy hadn't stopped him. Sandy saved Jennie's life.
So they threw Sandy and Jennie in the back of the car and brought them down to the Kibbencook police station over there on Washington Street. Even though Sandy quite reasonably asked that he and Jennie be put in the same cell, they were separated. And Jennie--who hated cages--Well! she just destroyed that cell, tore open the mattress, broke the toilet, unscrewed everything and busted the sink. The dogcatcher arrived and he was this horrid fat thing who was afraid to open the door. He was getting ready to shoot Jennie with a tranquilizing dart. Sandy told him Jennie was part of a secret government scientific project and that if they did anything to her the FBI would put him in jail. Can you imagine? Honestly, it was so funny. I don't know whether this idiot of a dog- catcher believed it, but the police chief had read about Jennie and the research, so he asked the man to wait until we came down.
When we arrived, Bill Russo was just getting into his car to go down to the hospital. He was all red and just furious that this chimpanzee had gotten the better of him. He said that Jennie should be destroyed and that Sandy was a menace to society and what was the matter did his barber die or something? Or was he trying to be one of these hippie radicals who wanted to make America Communist? Why, he said, if his kid grew his hair like that he'd show him the raw side of a belt. Imagine. He spoke like that to me. Well! I told Bill Russo that what he just said was slander plain and simple and that one more word out of his big fat mouth and I'd see him in court. He said that we'd be in court first for raising a vicious ape that, nearly tore his leg off. My goodness! I was so angry. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 18
When we got inside, Jennie was raising Cain, screeching and banging on the bars. You couldn't hear a thing it was so loud. Hugo went to the cells--there were just three little rooms down the hail--and told Jennie to shut up and she did. We had to pay bail for Sandy, and the dogcatcher gave us a citation. He said we'd have to go to court. In the meantime, he said, he would have to take Jennie down to the pound.
Hugo was magnificent. Very cool and patient He explained to the man who Jennie was, what she was, and why it was impossible to even think of putting her in the pound. He dropped hints about Jennie's strength and how she could escape from any cage made for an animal. He frightened the poor man half to death. He said, well, under the circumstances it would be acceptable if Jennie were kept at home, fully restrained at all times, until the court date. If she bit anyone else, well, that would be a very serious matter indeed.
We drove home in silence. Hugo was angry. So was I, for that matter. Sandy and Jennie were both subdued; I guess they knew they were in big trouble. Hugo said to Sandy: Come up to my office. He signed to Jennie: Bad Jennie, go to bathroom.
Jennie pretended not to react, but as soon as the, car opened she jumped and hid in the garage. Hugo madder than ever and shut the garage door, and Jennie spend an hour in there. It was cold in there, all she had was her Donald Duck T-shirt and pants.
Sandy spent quite a few weekends shoveling snow to earn money for his fine. Then the judge took away his learner's permit and he wasn't allowed to drive until he sixteen and a half.
Jennie's hearing was a more serious matter. You see, town really did have the right to destroy her. Kibbencook had very strict animal control laws, and a dog that bit someone and drew blood was required to be destroyed. First time; no second chances.
Hugo actually hired a lawyer, he was that concerned. Of course, we would never have given Jennie up. We would have moved away if it came to that.
The lawyer Hugo got was magnificent. His name was Alterman. Arthur Alterman. He cost a hundred dollars hour, but he was worth every penny.
It was a very funny trial. There was nothing in the history of jurisprudence like it. It wasn't a real trial, though. Just a hearing. There was no "prosecutor," just an administrative law judge running things, a little Italian fellow named Fiorello. Even so, the end result could have been horrible. It was a capital case.
Russo testified, and his partner. And then the dogcatcher, all sweating and red-faced, gave his little song and dance. Then Alterman got up and put Jennie on the stand. I noticed that there was a young reporter in the hearing room, sleeping in the back. When Jennie came in he woke up right away. He was falling all over himself looking for a pencil and taking notes and getting on the telephone trying to get a court artist down.
Alterman had hired a professional ASL interpreter from the Somerville School for the Deaf. Her credentials were impeccable. She was terrific and we had very carefully coached Jennie and rehearsed her testimony. For days on end we rehearsed what Jennie was to say. If she were human I am sure it would have been illegal, coaching the witness the way we did. Alterman didn't put Jennie on the stand for her testimony alone. He explained it all to us. The minute the judge saw Jennie in her little blue suit with the big red bow, and saw her signing back and forth with the interpreter; he would never, ever; in a thousand years, find her a menace to society and order her destroyed. How could he? She was just like little person!
The interpreter led Jennie and Hugo up to the stand and the two sat there together; since somebody needed to control Jennie if something happened. God forbid that she should bite the judge or a lawyer!
Alterman was marvelous. He was a showman. He explained that the witness couldn't swear on the Bible because she wasn't a Christian. There was a big laugh at that one. If Rev. Palliset had been there I'm sure he would have taken exception! The judge explained to the court, I suppose for the record, that Jennie's testimony was meaningless to determine the facts of the case, but that he was allowing it anyway The judge wanted to see the signing chimpanzee in action. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part 19
So Jennie was installed in the witness stand. She looked so funny, sitting in that big oak chair with her little feet sticking out, looking around with the utmost interest. Her little black eyes were just twinkling. I wish you could have been there. She looked so small and helpless in this grand room with the flags and oak paneling and the judge in his robes. let me see if I can remember how it went. Do you want me to demonstrate the signing again? It's surprising how little I've forgotten, really. I suppose it's like riding a bicycle.
[editor's note: At this point Mrs. Archibald stood up and as she described the questions, she demonstrated the signs at the same time.]
Mr. Alterman spoke to the interpreter only He said to ask Jennie--he called her "the witness,"--what happened on the afternoon of February such-and-such 1973. So the woman signed to Jennie, What happen? When Jennie replied she would immediately translate.
Jennie of course immediately demanded an apple or something. Apple! Give apple! Right away she was off the script. My heart just sank. But the interpreter was required to translate everything.
Well! The judge banged his gavel and assumed a very serious face, and said, "No eating in the courtroom." And everyone laughed. I was so relieved. I knew at that moment that we were going to win the case. The judge was already having a wonderful time. But then he said, "Tell the witness to respond to the question."
So the interpreter signed: Jennie, no apple. Later. What happened? And Jennie signed back, Hurt.
Who? signed the interpreter. Who hurt?
Man, Jennie signed.
Where man? asked the interpreter.
Jennie kept saying Man, man!
The interpreter asked her to point to the man several times, and finally Jennie pointed right to Officer Russo.
At this point Mr. Alterman thundered: "Let the record show that the witness has identified Officer William H. Russo!" It was so thrilling. Now I hate to admit this, but we'd rehearsed for days with Jennie using a blown-up photograph of Russo that Mr. Alterman had managed to find, I don't know where. Every single question had been rehearsed a dozen times.
Well! When Jennie pointed to Russo, a great Ahhhhh! went up in the courtroom and I could see the reporter scribbling away as if his life depended on it. I suppose for him it was the scoop of a lifetime. Here he'd probably around for months doing the Kibbencook courthouse "beat," and seeing nothing more interesting than a drunk driver. And now isn't it funny, but I wonder if Mr. Alterman didn't have something to do with getting that reporter into the courtroom? I hadn't thought about that before, but this case made Mr. Alterman famous. He was in Time magazine even.
Let's see now Mr. Alterman asked the interpreter to ask Jennie who the man hurt and why. So the interpreter asked: Man hurt who? and Jennie replied: Sandy.
Another murmur rose up in the courtroom and the judge was banging on his gavel. It was so thrilling, just like that television show "Ironsides," you know, the Perry Mason show Jennie stood up and started bobbing and hooting with excitement, and Hugo had to sit her down fast. I suppose the whole thing was highly irregular from a legal point of view but it was great fun. And nobody was having more fun than the judge. It wasn't a real trial, you see, so he didn't have to worry about all the legal niceties. Brad and Trouble
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Excerpts from Jennie by Douglas Presto part20
The interpreter asked. again, Man hurt Sandy?
And Jennie repeated it, Man hurt Sandy, a perfect witness. At this Russo jumped up and got all huffy with the judge. He was outraged. It was ridiculous, he said. Was the judge going to believe this monkey over him? Who was on trial here? What kind of kangaroo court was this anyway? He certainly made himself look like the fool that he was.
By this time the judge was completely on our side. He leaned back with a smile and said, "Correction, Officer: What kind of chimpanzee court is this?" That got a great laugh. So then the interpreter asked, How man hurt Sandy? .What man do?
Well! Jennie departed from the script again. She signed Bite. Man bite. But when had Jennie ever kept to a script? If there was a way to create excitement, Jennie would find it.
Russo jumped up again. The poor man didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. He hollered out, "Your Honor! I didn't bite anybody! It's a lie!"
Oh my goodness,. that just brought down the-house! Everyone was helpless with laughter. The judge was trying not to laugh but he couldn't help it. Finally he banged his gravel and assumed a grave face, and asked Mr. Alterman what the relevance of all this testimony was. He said, "Surely you weren't going to allege that Officer bit the ape?" He was laughing before he could even get out the question! Honestly, I'd never laughed so in my life. Russo and that horrid dog catcher sat with these sour expressions on their faces. Fiorello was banging his gavel and laughing at the same time, but he got mad and threatened to clear the court.
Mr. Alterman explained that he was merely trying to show Jennie's "state of mind" at the time she nipped the officer. So the judge let him continue.
Jennie signed apple, give apple! You see, we had coached her by feeding her apples, so she kept expecting a reward. From her point of view, she was answering the questions right but no one was giving her an apple! The interpreter signed No, apple later. Bad Jennie. No eat now. Man do what to Sandy?
Jennie signed Hurt!
The judge interrupted and said that he was giving Mr. Alterman one more minute to elicit information from the witness. So he said to the interpreter: "Could you please ask the witness why she bit the police officer?"
Why Jennie bite man? the interpreter signed.
Jennie replied, Man hurt Sandy.
At that point Mr Alterman was all smiles. He said, "That is all, thank you, Your Honor. And thank you, Jennie!" And the whole courtroom broke into applause, while the judge banged away.
When Mr Alterman summed up, he said something like, let's see if I can remember it. He said that Jennie obviously believed the policeman was hurting Sandy, even though he wasn't. Jennie mistakenly thought that her best friend and brother--that is, Sandy--was being hurt or attacked by a strange man. She responded to protect her friend and brother. It was a mistake. But it was a noble mistake. She was protecting someone she loved. Did the judge really want to destroy this kind, loyal, and brave chimpanzee for making a mistake? Of course not. He went on and on like that. I think the judge found her not guilty in about a minute. I don't mean to say not guilty, because she was guilty. It was really a hearing to determine whether Jennie was dangerous and should be destroyed. She was guilty of biting Officer Russo but not guilty of being dangerous.
And then! Oh my goodness. That little reporter's story got everyone else interested. The Globe and the Herald Traveler and the Kibbencook Townsman all carried the story on their front pages. And then the television stations carried it and it got picked up and was even written up all over the country in the Los Angeles Times, the Chicago Tribune, People magazine, the New York Times, everywhere. Actually, the New York Times ran a very good article on Jennie. It was the only intelligent thing written about Jennie during all those years. What was that reporter's name? He was such a nice man. Sullivan. Walter Sullivan. Anyway, all the talk shows called again. We were offered unbelievable sums by some of these drugstore newspapers. We turned them all down. We were a little shaken up by the incident. We didn't want to risk more public appearances by Jennie. She was getting toward puberty and becoming unruly and difficult. And strong. She could twist a heavy metal doorknob right off a door. Actually, she was becoming a major problem. It wasn't a laughing matter. Brad and Trouble
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she sucks
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kool

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