For many U.S. veterans living with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), finding peace after service can feel like an elusive goal. But in the quiet corners of a Mississippi monkey sanctuary, some are discovering unexpected solace. The sanctuary, originally created as a refuge for rescued primates, has become a place of healing for those who have endured the psychological wounds of war. The story, reported by The Washington Post, follows veterans like John Richard, who turned to this sanctuary when sleep and daily functioning became a struggle.
Richard, an Army veteran who served three years, found himself gripped by traumatic memories one sleepless Monday night. The next morning, unable to face the world outside his home, he sought comfort in a place that has recently become his haven: the monkey sanctuary. The facility, founded by a woman whose dedication to primates began decades ago, now serves a dual purpose—offering both a second chance to animals once used in biomedical research and a lifeline to veterans battling PTSD.
The sanctuary is home to more than 160 monkeys, many of whom were once test subjects in laboratories. These animals, having endured isolation and experimentation, are now given space to live out their lives in safety. What makes this place unique is how its mission has expanded to include human healing. Veterans volunteer or visit the sanctuary to care for the monkeys, forming bonds that transcend species. The shared experience of trauma—albeit in different forms—creates a bridge between the humans and the animals.
I found this detail striking: the veterans are not just passive observers but active participants in the animals’ rehabilitation. The work involves feeding, cleaning, and simply spending time with the monkeys, many of whom have never known gentle human contact before arriving at the sanctuary. The connection is mutual. As the monkeys learn to trust, the veterans often describe feeling a sense of purpose and calm that had eluded them elsewhere.
According to the article, the sanctuary’s founder did not initially envision the space as a therapeutic environment for people. However, after observing the transformations in visiting veterans, she began to see the potential. The structured, peaceful environment, combined with the emotional engagement of caring for another living being, became a form of nontraditional therapy. For some, it complements professional mental health treatment; for others, it is a first step toward recovery.
The use of animal-assisted therapy in PTSD treatment is not new, but this sanctuary offers a rare twist: primates instead of the more commonly seen dogs or horses. The monkeys’ own histories of trauma and survival resonate deeply with the veterans, creating a sense of empathy and understanding that is difficult to replicate in traditional settings. The sanctuary does not claim to cure PTSD, but it provides a space where healing can begin in small, meaningful ways.
One veteran described the experience as “a place where I don’t have to explain myself.” That sentiment captures the essence of what makes this sanctuary so powerful. In a society that often struggles to understand the complexities of mental health, especially among veterans, the sanctuary offers a rare judgment-free zone. The monkeys do not ask questions or offer pity; they simply exist, and in doing so, invite their human companions to do the same.
While the sanctuary is not open to the general public, it operates with the support of donations and volunteers. Its dual mission—to provide lifelong care for former research monkeys and to support veterans with PTSD—has drawn attention from mental health advocates and animal welfare organizations alike. The founder’s vision, born of compassion and persistence, has grown into a model that others are beginning to study and emulate.
Veterans who visit the sanctuary often return, not out of obligation but because they feel drawn to the peace it offers. The routine of caring for the animals, the quiet setting, and the absence of pressure combine to create a therapeutic environment that is both simple and profound. For individuals like John Richard, who struggle with the invisible scars of military service, the sanctuary is more than a place—it is a path forward.
In a time when mental health resources can be hard to access or carry stigma, especially among veterans, innovative approaches like this one offer hope. The sanctuary’s success lies not in flashy programs or clinical protocols but in its authenticity. It is a place built on trust, connection, and the quiet power of shared experience. As the founder and the veterans continue to nurture this unlikely community, they are proving that healing can happen in the most unexpected of places.
Read more at washingtonpost.com
