Early Sunday morning, a quiet residential neighborhood near Heidelberg, Mississippi, became the unlikely scene of a dramatic wildlife encounter. Jessica Bond Ferguson, a mother of five and professional chef, awoke to her 16-year-old son’s urgent voice: he believed he’d seen a monkey darting through their yard. What followed was a tense decision that ended with Ferguson shooting and killing one of the Rhesus monkeys that had escaped from a research animal transport truck crash nearly a week prior.
The story began on Tuesday, October 28, 2025, when a truck transporting 21 Rhesus macaques overturned on Interstate 59, north of Heidelberg—about 100 miles from Jackson, Mississippi. According to the Associated Press and Mississippi Free Press, the monkeys had been housed at the Tulane University National Biomedical Research Center in New Orleans, Louisiana, a facility known for providing primates to scientific research organizations. However, Tulane clarified in a statement that these particular animals did not belong to the university, nor were they being transported by it. The accident left the truck wrecked, wooden crates labeled “live animals” scattered, and a handful of monkeys unaccounted for in the aftermath.
Most of the 21 monkeys were killed in the crash, but animal experts from Tulane determined that three had managed to escape into the surrounding area. Video footage from the scene showed monkeys crawling through tall grass beside the interstate, a surreal sight that quickly caught the attention of local residents and authorities alike. The search for the missing primates involved a coordinated effort between the Jasper County Sheriff’s Office, the Mississippi Department of Wildlife, Fisheries, and Parks, and animal care experts from Tulane.
Residents in the area were soon warned to be on the lookout for the missing monkeys. Initial reports from the truck’s occupants and some law enforcement officials suggested that the monkeys could be dangerous and were potentially carrying diseases such as herpes, COVID-19, or hepatitis C. These warnings, which spread quickly through local and national media, fueled anxiety among residents, many of whom had children playing outdoors. “It’s kind of scary and dangerous that they are running around, and people have kids playing in their yards,” Ferguson later told the Associated Press.
But as the days passed and the search continued, Tulane University officials issued statements refuting the disease claims. They confirmed that the monkeys had recently undergone veterinary checkups and were found to be pathogen-free. “Non-human primates at the TNBRC are provided to other research orgs to advance science. The primates in question belong to another entity & aren’t infectious,” Tulane’s primate research center stated on social media. Jasper County Sheriff Randy Johnson echoed these findings, stating, “Tulane officials reported the monkeys were not infectious, despite initial reports by the truck’s occupants warning that the monkeys were dangerous and harboring various diseases.”
Despite the health clearance, the monkeys were still considered a public safety risk. Sheriff Johnson explained that the animals “still needed to be ‘neutralized’ because of their aggressive nature.” Rhesus macaques, which typically weigh about 16 pounds (7.2 kilograms), are known for their unpredictable and sometimes aggressive behavior—a fact acknowledged by the Mississippi Department of Wildlife, Fisheries, and Parks. The agency’s conservation workers joined sheriff’s officials in the ongoing search for the animals, urging residents not to approach the monkeys and to contact law enforcement immediately if any were spotted.
For Ferguson, the warnings and uncertainty proved too great to ignore. On the morning of November 2, 2025, after her son’s sighting, she got out of bed, grabbed her firearm and cellphone, and stepped outside. The monkey was about 60 feet away, seemingly unfazed by her presence. Ferguson recalled, “I did what any other mother would do to protect her children. I shot at it and it just stood there, and I shot again, and he backed up and that’s when he fell.” Before acting, Ferguson had called the police and was told to keep an eye on the animal, but she feared that if the monkey escaped, it could threaten children elsewhere in the neighborhood. “If it attacked somebody’s kid, and I could have stopped it, that would be a lot on me,” she explained to the Mississippi Free Press.
The Jasper County Sheriff’s Office confirmed in a social media post that a homeowner had found one of the monkeys on their property Sunday morning, though they did not initially provide further details. The Mississippi Department of Wildlife, Fisheries, and Parks took possession of the animal after the incident. This left two of the original three escaped monkeys still unaccounted for, as local authorities and wildlife officials continued their search.
The story of the escaped monkeys quickly drew national attention, not only for its unusual nature but also for the broader issues it highlighted. Animal rights group PETA seized on the incident, calling it a clear example of the risks inherent in the “greedy monkey experimentation industry.” Their statement underscored ongoing debates about the use of primates in biomedical research and the safety protocols surrounding their transport.
Incidents like this are not entirely unprecedented. About a year earlier, 43 Rhesus macaques escaped from a South Carolina compound that breeds them for medical research after an employee failed to fully lock an enclosure. That episode also required a large-scale search and prompted questions about containment procedures and public safety. The Tulane National Primate Research Center itself experienced a biosecurity breach about a decade ago, resulting in the euthanization of three macaques and a subsequent overhaul of safety protocols after federal inspectors found lapses in biosafety and infection control.
The Mississippi Highway Patrol continues to investigate the cause of last week’s truck crash. Meanwhile, the search for the remaining monkeys is ongoing, with Tulane University’s team of animal care experts collaborating closely with local authorities. Residents are advised to remain vigilant but are reassured that, according to the latest veterinary assessments, the monkeys do not pose a disease threat.
For Ferguson and her family, the incident is a stark reminder of the unpredictable ways in which global scientific endeavors can intersect with rural American life. “I did what I had to do for my kids,” she said, capturing the tense mix of fear, responsibility, and relief that settled over her home that morning. As the search for the remaining monkeys continues, the community is left to grapple with the lessons—and lingering questions—of this extraordinary week.
