Famous Last Words

Imagine if we had the opportunity

to hear from a cultural icon after they've passed away.

A chance for them to shape their own legacy,

to be heard one last time in their own words.

Dr. Jane Goodall connected humanity to Mother Nature

in ways we had previously only imagined.

She was a scientist,

a conservationist,

and an educator.

We're all interconnected,

and we depend on the natural resources of this planet,

and they're not infinite.

Her bond with nature was instinctive

from the time she was a child.

Animals seemed to trust her,

and she credited them as her teachers.

At 26, she traveled to East Africa to study wild chimpanzees

and made a groundbreaking discovery that chimps could use and make tools,

something people thought only humans were capable of.

But Jane didn't just study chimps.

She befriended them,

assigning them names rather than numbers

and following their families for generations.

The work led her to become a UN Messenger of Peace

and a battle-tested leader in the war to save Mother Nature.

Whether she was speaking before CEOs or world leaders,

Jane's charm and calm demeanor reached hearts and changed minds,

including in the US,

where she helped end government testing on chimpanzees.

In more than 70 countries,

Jane empowered generations of young people through her Roots & Shoots program

to carry on the fight for a sustainable future.

With her passing,

the world has lost a moral compass and a relentless force for good.

Before she died, Jane Goodall sat down for a deeply meaningful conversation,

knowing that what you're about to see would not air until after she passed away,

even if that meant locking away the footage for years.

These are Jane Goodall's Famous Last Words.

-Here, you wanna take my hand? - How do we walk?

We're just gonna walk straight. We'll hold hands.

Whoopsie whoops. And then we walk around here.

- You're very spry. -Oh, yes.

You're gonna sit in this chair right here.

-Yes. -Got some whiskey set up for you already.

-For my throat, for my voice. -Yes.

-They already poured some in there. -It got very overused during COVID.

You know, I was doing up to four Zooms a day.

Wow. Do you like to have a drink of whiskey

before you start talking?

Would you wanna have that now, or you wanna wait?

Um, yes.

Having a little sip of whiskey at the beginning of a talk

is sometimes really, really good.

Please do.

-I am not an alcoholic. -

But I have said to my people,

if you give me more things to do per day,

and my voice gets tighter and tighter,

you may turn me into an alcoholic,

and then the world will blame you

for stopping Jane from giving out her message.

-Cheers. -Cheers to you.

I did wanna talk about him.

- Mr. H. -Mr. H.

Is he always with you?

Yes. He's 34 years old.

He was given to me by a man called Gary Haun,

which is why he's Mr. H.

Gary Haun thought he was giving me a stuffed chimpanzee

for my birthday 34 years ago.

It's not a chimpanzee.

And I took his hand, and I made him hold the tail.

I said, "Gary, chimps don't have tails."

So Gary went blind at 21 when he was in the US Marines.

But, you know, 34 years old is pretty jolly good.

He looks great.

And, of course, Mr. H. is far more than a toy.

He's a... he's a symbol of the indomitable spirit

because of who gave him to me.

- Mm. -And he's very famous.

- Very. -Yes.

Well, welcome, Jane,

welcome, Mr. H., to our set here,

which you can see is different than most other interview sets

in that there are no cameramen in here.

We have five cameras operated remotely.

We seem to have a little train going around.

Yes, they can move, they... but they can't hear anything we say.

So we are gonna have a very personal, private conversation

without any worries about the consequences of what you have to say.

You can speak very honestly about yourself and the people in your life

and anybody who you have some things to say about, which could be, uh...

'Cause I'm dead, so I won't have repercussions.

Exactly. This will not air until after you have died.

So anyone watching this is grieving you at the moment

and very excited to hear a little bit more from you, so...

There may be one or two people who say, "Hey, she's gone!"

I... I honestly think it's o... it's only one or two

because I... I think you are... you are

one of the most beloved people... in the world.

And how that happened

is a true mystery to me.

Well, I think other humans seeing what... what's possible,

seeing what a person can be, what we can be,

that we have someone committed to a mission of good

and relentlessly working towards that good is, uh, inspiring to us.

Well, I mean, I only do what I do

because... because people get inspired to do better themselves.

Mm.

All right, so I wanna read, um, your bio,

and it... it's quite extensive for you,

so if you'll just allow me.

Dr. Valerie Jane Morris-Goodall.

You were born on April 3rd, 1934 in London, England.

Your mother, Margaret "Mavenwy"...

Myfanwe.

- Myfanwe. -Welsh. Welsh.

Welsh.

Your mother, Margaret Myfanwe...

- -Got it.

...was a writer who wrote under the name Vanne Morris-Goodall.

Your father, Mortimer Herbert Morris-Goodall,

was an engineer who became a race car driver for Aston Martin.

You have a younger sister, Judy,

who you share a birthday with four years apart.

You were married twice.

First to Baron Hugo van Lawick, a photographer and filmmaker

who captured your research in the wild for ten years.

You share a son, Hugo, but named Grub,

a master boat and home builder,

who lives in Tanzania with your grandkids, Angel, Merlin, and Nick.

Tanzania is also where you met your late husband, Derek Bryceson.

Together, you established the Gombe National Park,

the birthplace of your scientific discoveries.

You were married for five years before he passed away.

Your study of chimps in Tanzania

is the longest-running wildlife study in history

and the world's largest scientific database

on humans' closest DNA relative.

You are the woman who redefined man

by showing that chimpanzees can make and use tools

and have distinct personalities, minds, and emotions.

And when this is broadcast, all of your work... will be finished.

How does it feel to... hear all that?

It just reinforces my belief

that I was put on this planet to make this journey,

because things happened which took me...

Like, for example,

I wanted to go to Africa.

It started when I was ten years old

and I read Tarzan of the Apes .

Before that, it was animals, animals, animals,

but Tarzan of the Apes , I fell in love with Tarzan,

was mad when he married the wrong Jane.

-His Jane was a real wimp. -

And, uh, everybody laughed at me.

"How will you get to Africa? You don't have money."

My family had little money. "Africa's far away. It's dangerous."

Back then, we knew... It was called the Dark Continent.

We didn't know much about it.

"It's full of fierce wild animals," which, of course, was what I wanted.

"And anyway, you're just a girl."

Girls back then... didn't dream of anything like that.

But Mum said, "If you really want to do something like this,

you're going to have to work very hard,

take advantage of every opportunity,

and if you don't give up, I'm sure you'll find a way."

So that was my mother's wisdom.

My supportive, amazing mother,

whom I give credit... a lot of credit as to who I am.

She supported this love of animals,

so that when I was 18 months, I don't remember, but she told me

that I'd taken a whole lot of earthworms into my bed,

along with the earth, of course,

and instead of getting angry, she said, "Jane, you were looking so intently."

"I think you must have been wondering how they walk without legs."

And when I was four, I was given a job to help collect hen's eggs.

And the hen would go in, go into the box, lay her egg in the straw,

and I would open the lid, get out the egg, and put it in my basket.

So I apparently began asking everybody,

"But where is the hole? Where does the egg come out of the hen?"

I couldn't see a hole like that, and nobody answered me.

So what I remember vividly was a hen who was... she was brown,

and she went into one of these hen houses.

I crawled after her, went, and waited.

And my mother was about to call the police.

Nobody knew where I was, and I'd been gone four whole hours.

And yet when she sees this little girl, all excited,

instead of, "How dare you go and do something like that

without telling us? Don't you dare do it again,"

would have killed the excitement, she sat to listen to my story.

So I love that story, because isn't that the making of a little scientist?

Asking questions, not getting the right answer,

deciding to find out for yourself, making a mistake,

not giving up, and learning patience.

Hm.

And a different kind of mother might have crushed that early scientific curiosity,

and I might not be talking to you now.

I was lucky.

I read you told your friends that you could speak with animals.