Rescuing Monkeys Helped Me Work Through Trauma

Air Force veteran April Stewart, 51, lives in Perkinston, Mississippi, where she founded the nonprofit Gulf Coast Primate Sanctuary.

When I became an empty nester, some problems I’d been suppressing for years came flooding back: nightmares, panic attacks, insomnia. These were symptoms of PTSD related to a sexual assault I’d endured while serving in the military. It got so bad I had to quit my job, and I felt totally isolated.

My husband and I have always done animal rescue, and around that time, through a friend in the rescue community, I heard about three capuchin monkeys that needed help. They’d been living in some kind of facility that was shutting down. We’d owned monkeys before as pets, and that made us realize how difficult and unfair it was for them to be in a human home.

We took in Lucy, one of the capuchins, and she was a turning point for us. We wanted to get her back with her own species in a natural habitat. We worked with her for four months, getting her to a point where she was comfortable around humans, and then donated her to a friend’s private zoo up the road, where she can interact with other capuchins.

Word spread in the monkey community about our rescue work, and a year later we took in Louie, a spider monkey surrendered by a private owner who’d learned the limits of keeping primates as pets. We decided to get officially trained and licensed, and as part of the process, a USDA inspector came out to look at our property. We’ve got 15 acres. It was she who first suggested I start a monkey sanctuary, and the idea appealed to me. I knew that hundreds of pet monkeys are surrendered or confiscated from the illegal pet trade each year. Baby monkeys are cute, but when they outgrow that docile phase, they can be strong and willful, which a lot of people don’t realize. Creating a sanctuary seemed like a way for me to start over doing something useful, something I love.

Since word has gotten out about the work Stewart and her husband are doing, other veterans visit the sanctuary to help care for the animals, who in turn help them manage their PTSD.

Cedric Angeles

We got accredited, set up a nonprofit, recruited a board. We built structures that would separate monkeys from humans but allow them to interact with others of their species. We now have 11 animals — spider monkeys, marmosets, kinkajous, squirrel monkeys and a genet — most former pets whose owners couldn’t handle them, or animals rescued from unscrupulous breeders. People ask, “Why don’t you release them back into the wild?” But because they’ve been raised in captivity, they don’t know how to take care of themselves. That’s where a sanctuary comes in.