The GFAS Carole Noon Award for Sanctuary Excellence.
The Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries Carole Noon Award for Sanctuary Excellence has been created to honor visionary contributions to the animal sanctuary field.
The honor memorializes Carole Noon, Ph. D., a courageous and innovative sanctuary pioneer and champion of chimpanzees. The first award, given in 2009, will be awarded posthumously to Dr. Carole Noon.
Carole Noon, Ph.D. exemplified these traits with an innovative spirit, creating solutions to overwhelming challenges; a deep knowledge of those entrusted to the care of the sanctuary, a dedication to animals and a determination to succeed that manifested in a commitment to ensure humane and responsible care for the lifetime of each of the sanctuary residents.
In Memoriam
Carole Noon, PhD, Founder and President of Save the Chimps, the world’s largest chimpanzee sanctuary, passed away Saturday, May 2, 2009, after a battle with pancreatic cancer.
Dr. Noon, a passionate and tireless advocate for chimpanzees, created a world-class sanctuary for chimpanzees who were once exploited by laboratories, and the entertainment and pet trade industries.
Carole, a woman of action, was not content to talk about the problem of unwanted chimpanzees, but devoted her life to doing something about it.
Dr. Noon was inspired to help chimpanzees after meeting Dr. Jane Goodall in the early 1980s.
After obtaining bachelor’s and master’s degrees, Dr. Noon received her Ph.D. in biological anthropology from the University of Florida, specializing in the socialization of captive chimpanzees.
Much of her field work was done at Chimfunshi, a chimpanzee sanctuary in Zambia founded and operated by David and Sheila Siddle. After leaving Zambia, Dr. Noon began to lay the groundwork for developing a chimpanzee sanctuary in the United States.
Dr. Noon founded Save the Chimps in 1997 to provide permanent sanctuary to chimpanzees being abandoned by the United States Air Force.
The Air Force rejected her proposal to care for the chimpanzees and instead gave them to The Coulston Foundation, a biomedical research facility with the worst record for primate care of any lab covered under the provisions of the Animal Welfare Act. Dr. Noon sued the Air Force on behalf of the Coulston chimpanzees.
After a year-long legal struggle, the lawsuit was settled out of court in Dr. Noon’s favor. In 2001, 21 Air Force chimpanzees moved to their new island home at Save the Chimps in Fort Pierce, Florida. The next year, Coulston declared bankruptcy, and a new situation was needed for placement of the Coulston chimps. With generous financial support provided by the Arcus Foundation, 266 chimpanzees were rescued from Coulston. Save the Chimps soon became the world’s largest chimpanzee sanctuary. Over the next several years, Dr. Noon oversaw the renovations of the dismal Coulston facilities in New Mexico, as well as construction of the “chimp city” at Save the Chimps, where all of the chimpanzees will eventually be relocated. Today, 282 chimpanzees in New Mexico and Florida call Save the Chimps their home.
Carole Noon radiated a spirit, energy and drive that few people on this earth possess. She inspired and mentored those who shared her devotion and dedication to chimps. Those who knew her will always remember her strength, compassion, wisdom, humor and wit. But most of all, we will remember her love for the chimpanzees. She had a special fondness for the senior residents of Save the Chimps, the elderly chimps who had endured so much suffering, but who now greet each day with joy and excitement. Carole took great delight in making Rufus laugh, sitting with Dana for a quiet visit, or listening to Gromek hooting and drumming on his special island. Seeing the chimps roam the islands, free from their cages, made Carole’s heart sing—forever.
Carole Noon changed the lives of both chimpanzees and humans for the better. A dear friend, advocate, and champion has been lost. But the work that she poured her heart and soul into must go on. The greatest tribute to Dr. Carole Noon will be to continue to protect and care for the chimpanzees she so loved, and fulfill her dream of moving all of her beloved chimpanzees from New Mexico to Florida. Help carry on her mission by donating to Save the Chimps in memory of Dr. Noon.
Articles
In Memory of Dr. Carole Noon - The Humane Society of the United States
Carole C. Noon, Who Founded Save the Chimps, Dies at 59 - The New York Times
Chimps lose an unsung hero - Animal News: Animal Planet
Noon willing to fight to save chimpanzees, create sanctuary in Western St. Lucie County - TCPalm
'Save the Chimps' founder dies - WPTV Channel 5
A note from David Cassidy, director and producer of "One Small Step: The Story of the Space Chimps
A Tribute From A Dear Friend
FAREWELL, FRIENDS
No one I met during my long career as a primatologist and conservationist was remotely like Carole Noon. It is no easy task to memorialize her with my words despite having known her since she appeared on my doorstep in Washington, DC, back in 1986, seeking help with getting to Africa. I put her in touch with David and Sheila Siddle, who had set up a large sanctuary for young chimps on their cattle ranch in northern Zambia, mainly infants confiscated from wildlife trappers and dealers. So it was that the Chimfunshi Wildlife Orphanage near the southern tip of Lake Tanganyika became Carole’s introduction to the world of chimpanzees. The experience of taking care of Tobar, Liza, Charley and others at Chimfunshi altered her views of the world in 1987 as much as being with Mike, Flo, Leakey, Worzle and others altered mine back in 1968 at Jane Goodall’s field station in Gombe National Park, Tanzania. Chimps, you see, were the ones who brought us together onto parallel career paths where we both embraced various chimpanzee survival causes. I take much pleasure from having helped set her on such a course. A great many chimps benefitted over the years from Carole’s presence.
When Carole breathed her last on May 2nd, 2009, 282 apes she rescued from neglect and misery lost a fine friend and true companion. Indeed, they lost their most fervent protector and outspoken advocate. Carole’s Save the Chimps foundation and sanctuary stand as magnificent monuments to her tireless, selfless efforts to save as many chimps as she could from the uses and abuses perpetrated by humans.
To me, Carole was a strong friend through many an ordeal. She was an unwavering advocate for chimpanzee welfare and a staunch ally in our struggle to secure safe havens for these apes on a battered planet overrun by humans. A fellow skeptic about the motives and morals of humanity, Carole scoffed at posturing and empty promises. She was, in short, a straight-shooter who played no games of deception. And she was consistently loyal to anyone who did not shy away from helping chimps when opponents became nasty, even dangerous.
To chimps, Carole was an even more essential form of support … a triple source of salvation and sanity in one energetic package. Her titles: Companion, Caregiver, Champion. She fought hard for freedom from unjust incarceration, and stood firm as a savior from suffering and death. She always spoke up in their defense no matter the risks to herself. The challenges she shouldered were not seen by her as burdens. Yet it was evident to me that her backing of chimp causes cost her heavily, both emotionally and financially, on more than one occasion.
One might wonder what drove Carole to undertake so much on behalf of another species? The associations Carole forged with each and every chimp taken under her wings were anchored in mutual trust and respect. Both parties drew equal value and satisfaction from the relationship. At the simplest level, all the faces – hers and theirs -- flashed with evident joy and excitement at each meeting. And her daily rounds of socializing as she greeted the chimps each morning, baseball cap on, typically evoked affection and pleasure from nearly everyone. No resident of the sanctuary, no matter how rowdy or mean, mentally damaged or emotionally bruised, was given less than equal attention and kindness. We humans seldom achieve such limitless concern for one another, yet Carole extended her embrace to other species. In her heart and mind, the distinctions others saw between chimp and human had become so blurred over the years that at some level she became one of them. And in return, they responded by accepting and appreciating her on unusually egalitarian terms … as someone more than just a human. That acceptance in turn became the fire in Carole’s gut, feeding her extraordinary perseverance and unbreakable conviction. She was, in short, fighting for the survival and welfare of friends.
Describing the connection Carole felt with chimpanzees to persons unfamiliar with apes as individualists is enormously difficult. The relationships – both good and bad -- we developed over time with certain chimps remain puzzling to anyone who has never felt such cross-species reciprocal ties. How does one describe color to one who has no color vision? This is nothing like owning a dog, for example, as chimps are far more human and thus communication is far more easy and complex. Those of us who worked long and hard to help chimps did so because we had lived with some of them for long periods and in the process we learned to know and like and respect them as individuals with complex personalities, preferences, attitudes, intelligences, etc. Chimps had became more than abstractions, more than “animal” caricatures. In other words, they became persons. What we did not say or think about friends and relatives we also did not say or think about chimps we knew well. Carole used chimp names so interchangeably with human names that novice listeners were unable to tell whether she was speaking about apes or people. The affectionate, respectful, familiar way Carole wrote about chimps in various STC publications offers a glimpse into what I am trying to express.
I am reminded at this point about a milestone event in my own life that shows how our minds can be turned upside down by living (peacefully) in close proximity with chimpanzees. In March of 1968 I arrived at Gombe to begin two years of field work. Gombe is, by East African standards, a small national park on the eastern shore of Lake Tanganyika, our planet’s second deepest freshwater body. The lake forms part of the Great Rift Valley system, an immensely long and jagged rip in the continent along which a major piece of Africa is slowly tearing away and creeping toward India. The park thus straddles an earthquake zone where tremors are common and sometimes strong. Ruth Davis, a close friend whom Jane hired two months later, wrote home once as follows: “We had very strong earth tremors and it was quite spooky – not at all what I would have expected (i.e. a sharp jolt), but exactly as if the earth was made of Jell-O and it wiggled.”
One day late in the dry season of 1968 Ruth and I walk out of the field station with a group of male chimps: Hugo, Goliath, Hugh, Charlie, and others. We amble upstream along the floor of Kakombe Valley, then cut northward to climb a steep ridge toward The Peak, from which Jane first observed chimps in 1960. The group crosses the spine of Peak Ridge to a point where the next big valley, Lindi, drops sharply toward the lakeshore. The chimps stop just below the ridge crest in open woodland littered with large and small boulders. Visibility across the velvet green carpet of canopy forest lining the valley is superb. Beyond, the lake waters shimmer as far as the distant horizon, where the hills of the Congo shoreline divide dark blue water from pale blue sky.
The chimps pause on the steep hillside to stare into the valley below for several minutes, listening attentively. They all call out loudly and then watch again in silence, heads canted as they again listen for replies. Their brief bout of hoots and screams simply echoes back from the opposite ridge, without calls from strangers. They hoot again. Silence again. Several chimps climb trees, some of which lean downslope. They gradually relax: some doze or groom while others pick and chew leaves. Hugo sits alone on a rock outcrop, chin on a wrist propped on a knee, gazing into the valley. Ruth and I sit on two large rocks at a slightly lower elevation. Hugo ignores us completely. Thirsty from the long climb from camp, we share a tin of pineapple slices in syrup which she brought in her should bag. Then we wait quietly for the chimps to resume travel. Were it not for our pale skins, long hair and khaki clothes, we could easily picture ourselves as pre-humans living in this primeval paradise.
Suddenly the ground beneath our feet trembles. Pebbles become jumping beans. There is more sensation than sound, although a feeling of deep base rumbles climb up into our legs from the depth of the planet. Unaccountably, I think of a giant’s stomach rumbles. We freeze with surprise chased by anxiety. Some of the smaller saplings around us whip back and forth, alerting the chimps, all of whom glance hastily about. Loose rocks roll down the hillside. The tips of knee-high grass stems vibrate. Wisps of dust rise from patches of shaking ground. Our world is no longer stable, no longer safe! We jump up, grab our tape recorders and cameras and Ruth’s shoulder bag, and are ready to run if need be. We stand a few yards apart, legs splayed for balance, each with an arm braced on a boulder to keep from sliding downhill amidst cascades of loose dirt. Suddenly chimps rain down from the trees around us, no one emitting the slightest sound. My gut tightens with anticipation, as the quake is fiercer than any I have seen so far.
Moments later Hugo turns slightly, facing uphill, and stares steadily at Ruth. I am on her other side, farther from Hugo by several yards. I watch Hugo carefully over her shoulder, as his intent gaze and stiff posture worry me. Keenly aware that he dislikes humans, Hugo has been known to chimphandle them. I call out a warning to Ruth. Hugo’s hair is now slightly bristled, but I’m unsure whether he feels anger or fear. Ruth turns toward Hugo when I shout again. But no tree trunk is available to hide behind, and she decides to stand her ground by the boulder, trying to stare Hugo down. The earth shakes again. Hugo suddenly runs forward; my adrenaline surges in response. Ruth lets go of her rock, straightens up while still facing Hugo, and slowly backs away toward me. Hugo then surges forward to grasp both of Ruth’s legs behind her knees as if he intends to pitch her over backward. She staggers and nearly falls, arms flailing. Both her recorder and shoulder bag go flying. I shout Hugo’s name again and wave my arms about in a vain attempt to distract him.
Hugo has a purpose, however, and ignores my threat. He leans his stocky torso forward until both shoulders press Ruth’s knees, and, fingers curled behind her calves so she cannot pull free, Hugo pushes and walks her gently backward along the slope right past me. I am stunned. Before I can move in to help he releases Ruth, then steps away to calmly stand a few feet from us. Another ground sharp tremor comes, and a moment later a large tree just upslope from the spot Ruth stood slowly leans downhill, then slowly topples, emitting a series of groans and pops and cracks as the root network rips loose from the rocky soil. Chimps screech and scatter in all directions with lots of wary glancing about. Dirt balls and loose stones cascade down into the valley. The trunk of the tree slams the ground just where Ruth had been standing while clutching her boulder for support. Moments later Hugo pivots and calmly walks away without a glance backward. Hugo stares balefully at me with a reproachful look, and I intuitively feel ashamed that I yelled at him. The other chimps soon follow in his wake, their backs parting the knee-high dry grass …until they all disappear silently into a ravine below us.
We stay behind, speechless, staring at one another, my hand touching her arm. I continue to shiver inside for a time even after the landscape stills. Is it the aftereffect of the quakes, or the realization that Hugo saved Ruth? How did he overcome his aversion to contact with humans? Why did he act so selflessly on behalf of a species he clearly dislikes? To me, being a member in a society which ranks humans as superior beings spawned by gods, this event gives a brain jolt. Every detail of this afternoon is etched into my mind for a lifetime. I am no longer just human.
Ruth, with whom I was planning a life after Gombe, died on July 12th, 1969. She fell over the edge of a high waterfall while accompanying Hugh and Charlie and other big males on an 8-miles-in-3-hours hike across the park. Hugo and the chimps we once knew so well are gone as well. The park embraced everyone returning to the landscape. And then, on May 2nd, 2009, Carole Noon died in her home at the sanctuary she founded in 1994. I shared much with every one of them over a span of 50 years … and I owe them all more than I can say.
Why have I reached so far into my past to retrieve this story when I was asked to write a commemorative note on Carole for the STC newsletter? My answer is that the account may help explain what Carole and I shared. We are all, humans and apes, connected by bonds that go very far back in time. My Gombe anecdote is a window onto similarly stunning events Carole enjoyed in places such as Zambia and Florida.
My memories of Carole are crystalline. She always acted forthrightly, guilelessly; she was not given to subterfuge; self-aggrandizement was absent from her repertoire of behavior; she could be brittle at times but not without cause; her judgments were sometimes harsh, but mostly fair; she marched about with hair erect (albeit under a baseball cap) when upset, yet not with serious threat ; she hooted others into submission on occasion; most importantly, she was gentle and kind and polite to underdogs … to all hurting individuals of every kind. And I am absolutely certain she would have scoffed at so many complimentary words, dismissing me with the wave of a hand. The type of wrist-shake chimps use when fed up with someone bothersome.
1Most amazingly, that number is greater than populations surviving today in several countries of tropical Africa where chimps thrived before the 1940s.
Biography
Dr. Carole Noon, the Founder of Save the Chimps, was born Carole Jean Cooney in Portland, Oregon on July 13, 1949. According to her sisters, Lee Asbeck and Kay Shelton, Carole demonstrated compassion for animals—even fictional ones—at an early age. “The Disney animated film Lady and the Tramp was our first tip-off. Tramp, a lovable homeless mutt, was whisked off to the pound. Carole cried inconsolably,” remember Lee and Kay. In one of her first attempts at animal rescue, a young Carole attempted to nurse a sick mole back to health. Sadly, the mole passed away despite her efforts, but the stage had been set for her life’s work.
Carole spent part of her early childhood on an island in the South Pacific, where her father, William, had moved the family for a business venture. Her parents later divorced, and her mother, Dorothy, moved Carole and her sisters to Honolulu, Hawaii and later to Cleveland, Ohio. Carole met and married Michael Noon, and they established a business together. After ten years, the marriage ended, and Carole began looking for new path in life. She traveled extensively: to the Congo with her sister, and across the United States with her beloved dog, Zeke.
Carole enrolled in Florida Atlantic University (FAU), and attended a lecture by the world’s foremost chimpanzee expert, Dr. Jane Goodall. She knew then what her life’s goal was: to work with and help these remarkable beings who, despite the fact (or perhaps because of the fact) that they are so like us, had been exploited and harmed by humans both in the wild and in captivity. She sought the counsel of Dr. Goodall as well as primatologist Dr. Geza Teleki, and they encouraged her to continue her studies. She acquired a Bachelor’s from FAU, a Master’s degree from University of Florida (UF), and began her doctoral studies in biological anthropology at UF under Dr. Linda Wolfe. She gained experience with chimps wherever she could, primarily by observing them in zoos. Then Dr. Teleki introduced Carole to David and Sheila Siddle of Zambia, who were running a sanctuary for chimpanzees orphaned by the bushmeat trade in Africa. Carole became like a daughter to the Siddles. She lived and worked at the sanctuary, called Chimfunshi, completing her dissertation on the re-socialization of chimpanzees. She completed her PhD and became Dr. Carole Noon in 1996.
Dr. Noon founded Save the Chimps in 1997, in response to the US Air Force’s announcement that it was divesting itself of all of its chimpanzees, and placing them up for bid. More than 140 veterans or descendants of chimpanzees used in the early days of space research had the opportunity for retirement, and Dr. Noon intended to give it to them. However, the Air Force rejected her bid to retire the chimpanzees, and sent most of them to The Coulston Foundation (TCF), a biomedical research lab with a history of violating the Animal Welfare Act. Dr. Noon sued the Air Force on the chimps’ behalf, and eventually settled out of court for custody of 21 chimps. In 2001, the chimps arrived at the sanctuary she built for them on 150 acres in Fort Pierce, FL with the assistance of The Arcus Foundation. Her dream had been realized, but her life’s work had really only just begun.
In 2002, TCF went bankrupt, and with a special grant from The Arcus Foundation, Dr. Noon and Save the Chimps purchased the lab in Alamogordo, NM and rescued 266 chimpanzees and 61 monkeys, overnight becoming the world’s largest chimpanzee sanctuary. Carole worked tirelessly to improve their conditions, train staff to care for the chimps with compassion, raise funds for their care, oversee expansion of the sanctuary in Florida, and introduce the chimpanzees into families prior to their relocation to Florida.
Dr. Carole Noon was an inspiring woman with an amazing drive, passion, and intellect. She had a wonderful sense of humor, and was always quick with a witty comment. She had a powerful, no-nonsense aura about her, but she would also melt when around dogs, children, and of course her beloved chimps. She was incredibly charismatic and motivated others to share her love and devotion to chimpanzees.
Dr. Carole Noon passed away early on May 2, 2009, of pancreatic cancer. She was in her home at Save the Chimps, within sight and sound of the chimpanzee islands, and in the company of her sisters. The sounds of the chimpanzees starting their day reverberated through the air as she slipped away. Dr. Carole Noon lives on in our hearts, and in the hearts of the chimpanzees she loved so dearly.
Coming Soon
Photo above by Jo-Ann McArthur