This article is a first-person account reflecting on the death of Jane Goodall and how she prepared others for a world without her presence. The author recalls an instance where Goodall humorously addressed the inevitability of death during one of her lectures, noting that while she had many plans, eventually, "death becomes the next step." This anecdote highlights Goodall's legacy in inspiring youth and her own mother's role in funding her initial research in Africa. The piece also touches on how the author's work with Jane, particularly regarding conflict zones in Africa, further bonded them.
Written locally by qwen2.5:14b on 2026-10-01,
using this article's own text rather than the other coverage of the
same event (that is the story summary below).
A year ago today, when Jane Goodall died in Los Angeles, the world lost an icon.
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world → die → icon
I lost one of my oldest, closest friends.
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I → lose → friends
Thinking both about that moment and how we should mark this one, I hear her voice urging us to look forward, as fervently as she always did—to the future she spent years preparing others to build, and, above all, to the youth she inspired to follow her.
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she → think → her
Years ago, as Jane and I shared a quiet dinner alone in New York during one of her tours, she drolly recounted an incident from her lecture the previous evening.
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she → share → lecture
She had filled a very large old theater with people keen to hear her share her history and hopes.
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her → fill → history
After her talk, two long lines of eager questioners filled the aisles.
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lines → fill → aisles
A young girl gushed, “Oh, Dr. Goodall, you’re so amazing!
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you → gush → ?
You’ve done so much!
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You → do → much
The whole house gasped.
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house → gasp → ?
Silence followed.
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Silence → follow → ?
Gently, Jane continued: “Let’s be clear.
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’s → continue → ?
I’m over 80.
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I → ’m → 80
I travel over 300 days a year.
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I → travel → days
Of course, there’s so much that I still want to do, but no one lives forever.
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one → ’ → that
At some point, death becomes the next step.
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death → become → point
And, as someone who has always looked forward to the next adventure, I’m actually curious about it.
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I → look → it
”
When, the following night, I joined Jane for dinner at her hotel in Manhattan, bringing vegetarian curries and a bottle of scotch, a combination we both adored, and she described this exchange, I nearly choked on my drink at her unexpected punchline, sputtering, “You really said that?”
She nodded mischievously.
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She → join → that
But, beneath her smile, I sensed something else.
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I → sense → something
I saw her beginning to prepare the world for a time when she would no longer be here to carry on her work.
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she → see → work
She was shaping her legacy, focusing forward.
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She → shape → legacy
That effort could be traced to her very beginning—and ours.
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effort → trace → beginning
In 1957, my mother, Helen Illick, was appointed Assistant Director for Systematic Biology at the National Science Foundation (NSF) at only 31 years old.
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mother → appoint → Foundation
Vetting grant applications, she discovered one that captivated her completely: it would support another young woman, one researching chimpanzees in Africa.
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it → vet → Africa
My mother championed it, and the NSF awarded a generous grant that helped fund Jane’s first field work.
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that → champion → work
The legend, the legacy, and the role of youth in both began right there.
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legend → begin → both
Jane always loved that our mothers, who had shaped our lives most, had been connected from the start, when the funding that my mother helped secure allowed Jane’s mother to join her daughter in her first months in the field.
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mother → love → field
But later, my own work, which took me into conflict zones in Africa, bound me to Jane in even deeper and more direct ways.
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which → take → ways
Rwanda, during its 1994 genocide, was the most harrowing mission I ever went on for the United Nations.
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I → go → Nations
Shattered by what I saw there, I reached out to Jane the moment I returned.
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I → shatter → Jane
We spoke quietly together of the horrors I had witnessed.
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I → speak → horrors
Then I asked her, “How did you cope when you saw the chimps go to war, when they killed each other right in front of you?”
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they → ask → you
Her eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored my own.
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that → fill → own
“I was horrified, Henry—absolutely horrified.
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I → horrify → ?
But, after the fighting ended, I saw them forgive.
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them → end → ?
They rebuilt their communities and their lives.
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They → rebuild → communities
In many ways, they’re better at forgiveness than we are.
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we → ’re → forgiveness
I’ve always hoped that we might learn that from them, one day.”
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we → hop → them
We both felt how far away “one day” was in that moment, but that ember of hope still anchored us.
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ember → feel → us
I, however, was not the only troubled youth then turning to Jane.
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I → turn → Jane
As the Cold War receded and the world briefly brimmed with an optimism that Jane captured and conveyed beautifully, young people—with no direct memory of the World Wars or Cold War—sometimes reflected something different back to her.
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people → recede → her
…and 46 more, not listed.
The Aporia
