A Love Letter to Jane
Dearest Jane,
Wherever you are, I hope you’re enjoying the next part of your journey, especially if it involves some rest! I know you were looking forward to whatever was to come next.
One thing I know for sure is that your energy lives on here through all the people you moved and motivated, gave hope to, and counselled – me included.
Since you left, I’ve been reflecting on our times together, how we met; the joyous interactions between you and my son Lenny; your heartfelt support for rangers and The Thin Green Line’s mission of supporting them on the front lines of conservation… or as you aptly put it when we first met – “protecting nature’s protectors”; the times philosophising; walking together; having a laugh with shared dark humour, and, of course, the quiet drams by a fire.
I’m not sure if I ever told you, but two weeks before I was invited for the chance to meet you at Melbourne Zoo, some 15 years ago, I’d seen you on the Denton program “Enough Rope”. You and I both believe in the energy of the universe, of nature, and whilst I was watching that programme, quiet tears rolled down my eyes as I realised that somehow you were going to get involved with this mission to support rangers. I don’t know how I knew, but it was undeniable. Two weeks later my friend, Jacqui, contacted me, and said that there’s no promises but maybe I could meet you if I got to this media event at the zoo. Your friend Polly dragged me over to meet you, having seen some of the work I was doing, and she told me to give you my elevator pitch.
After I explained that we were supporting the widows and children of rangers fallen in the line of duty, as well as trying to provide rangers with meaningful training, equipment and connections, I’ll never forget that quiet look in your eyes, a sparkle even, and the gentle smile that you gave me as you asked me my name. ‘Well, Sean Willmore,’ you said, “I know this story well myself having worked with many rangers in the field and I’m just so thrilled someone’s doing something about it! I’m going to talk about you and your thin green line mission for the rest of this tour”.
When you said that to me, the validation from someone of your standing and integrity was huge, especially when I was putting everything I had into to it. Maybe I was doing the right thing after all! When I returned back to that same living room that evening, the same one that two weeks ago I’d watched you on the TV, I opened my laptop to receive an email from you, and my life changed.
“Dear Sean, this is my private email so please do not share it with anyone. I’ve been thinking about you today since we met and your mission and I’m blown away that someone is actually doing something about this important missing link in conservation, protecting the protectors of nature. So, this is my solemn promise to do anything I can to help you and the rangers. Please count on me whenever you need it.
All my love, Jane”
It’s no surprise you were 100% true to that word. Fifteen years on and every idea I presented to you went answered and fulfilled without ever really being questioned. You gave me full trust and had faith I was on the right path. Be that the annual World ranger Day messages you did to boost the morale of rangers across the planet, naming a ranger award in your honour, or video messages from you to people of influence that might help the ranger cause.
I felt the emotional response from the ranger family first-hand and what that meant to them to have you standing with them and asking others in the world to join you – it was palpable. I felt it too. As you’ve always done, you gave the rangers and me hope in often difficult times. This on top of the huge demands and requests placed upon you from every direction.
I remember those huge demands on you and how sometimes, very seldomly, you, like the rest of us, got quite stressed. But I was lucky to be close enough at times to see how you handled that. How you dusted yourself off, ready to go again the next day, again and again, and again, until you’re 91! I’ve often said that you tour more than most rock stars at 300 days a year on the road, spreading your message of hope, and the need for action now!
I remember fondly walking through the gardens near Mary’s place in London and wondering at all the beauty of the spring flowers as we philosophised about serendipity and hope. You’ll remember at that very moment we came across a group of workmen releasing some ducklings and their mother into a pond, because they didn’t want to see them get hit by cars at a nearby building site. And they told you “We’ve all got to do our bit for the environment, don’t you think?” Ha! He said that to you… and then he said, “Hang on- I’ve seen you on Animal Planet, haven’t I?”
There, serendipitously was the hope we were talking about! Inside everybody (well most people) is that desire somewhere to do the right thing, just like these workmen downing tools to save a few ducks.
One of my favourite quotes from you is within a narration you did for a Thin Green Line promotional video. You would often ask me to draft a script in your voice and instruct me to do my best Jane impersonation whilst writing it. You never missed a chance to tell me that I was “doing a pretty good Jane voice these days” but that you “made it just a little bit better and a little more authentically Jane”, with a cheeky smile on your face. So, my favourite line in this video was where you said, with great poise and in a very Churchillian way, “The time to act… is now!” Quite right, Jane!
I remember the challenging conversations we had during the elephant crisis and the dire situation in which elephants, rangers, and the conservation world found itself. You advised me often, including when large NGOs would sometimes take the lion share of fundraising without acknowledging nor supporting their smaller counterparts doing the frontline work. You told me to take the higher ground and lean into the issue without pointing the finger. For big decisions you always told me to follow my heart, to listen to that same calling that brought us together in a shared passion for mother nature.
I loved the last conversation you had with Lenny my son, about ants. You could see the fascination he had with them and that he wanted to share that with you, and you told him how some fire ants or army ants, the kind whose bites really hurt, crawled up your legs in your early days with the chimps in Gombe, and you were told that they were no problem if they didn’t get past your knees. But they didn’t follow the guidebook and bit you everywhere, and the only cure for it, without medicines, was some tomato paste applied on the bites and some gin and tomato paste taken orally! I’ve never seen my son sit so still and respectfully as he listened to your story… he still talks about it. Well, maybe I do more so.
I remember we were having some whiskeys before a Thin Green Line event and while everyone was busy trying to get the show started you just wanted 5 minutes more to talk, because we hadn’t seen each other for a while. Five turned into 10 or 15, and a few drams later, before we put on our game face and you became iconic Dr Jane Goodall.
I remember how you spoke to my future wife Monika when I first met her and you told her how happy you were that we had met. You were a good wingman too! (thanks for that!)
Jane thanks for letting me into both of your worlds. One with the iconic Dr Dame Jane Goodall DBE, that helped rangers and conservation, and so many people and causes trying to protect our natural world. The real Jane was in there with Icon Jane too. I remember I watched on a number of occasions that, even after a huge day, a huge tour, you would never go home to rest until you had signed everyone’s books, because as you explained, “What if the last person is the person that changes everything, and I just had to give them that little bit of my time and encouragement?!”
You inspired so many. You drove your staff crazy too! I think you were like a farmer is with the rain – it’s either too wet or too dry but for you it was- too busy or not busy enough – all at the same time. You wanted to squeeze every ounce out of this thing called life. And you did just that! Ahh.
Thanks for trusting me, for opening up, for listening, for everything … and, well, thanks for just being you, Jane.
When I missed a call from our friend Jeremy in the early hours of October 2nd on a cold Tasmanian morning, he then messaged – “Call – I’m devastated”. I knew his message meant one thing – you were gone.
I was philosophical at first. I knew, like many, that you welcomed the next big adventure, and I saw you as the exemplar of a life well lived. You lived with purpose, passion and a cheeky smile. Your energy and intent will live on for the ages. Maybe this is eternal life?
A few days after you passed, I finally felt it was the right time to pen something publicly:
“There will be a time for more words and stories – now is a time for quiet reflection and honouring a Giant that walked amongst us. Grace, determination, humility, generosity, drams and a wicked sense of humour. Enjoy the next journey Jane and heartfelt thanks for you just being you.
Sláinte friend
I meant every word.
I miss you; I thank you and I love you, Jane.
As always, sending all my love to you…to wherever you might be.
Sean
xo


