Alan Mootnick
Pepper Scott
I first met Alan Mootnick through Terry’s stories, which arrived fully formed and slightly unbelievable, like postcards from a parallel universe that smelled faintly of hay, fruit peels, and idealism. Terry and Alan were housemates once. Not roommates. Housemates suggests a shared vision, which they absolutely had. They raised animals together, many animals, and practiced a kind of practical hippyism. Not the tie-dye kind. The kind where you quietly decide the animals get the good food and you get whatever is left, which is often crackers.
Their house was mostly for the animals. Terry described it honestly and with pride. Filthy, chaotic, and alive. Guests were warned to wipe their feet on the way out, not in. This always made me laugh. It felt like a perfect summary of their priorities and their humor. Civilization ends here. Proceed carefully.
So when I finally met Alan in Los Angeles, it felt less like an introduction and more like picking up a conversation that had paused decades ago. We clicked immediately. The overlap of interests was uncanny, especially our shared devotion to Asian food. Conversations unfolded easily, with no warming up required. Just filling in the spaces.
In the 1970s, Alan focused his curiosity and discipline and became a world-renowned expert on gibbons. This was not a career choice so much as a calling. One of the highlights of my time in LA was visiting the Gibbon Conservation Center, which Alan founded and nurtured for the rest of his life. The place felt purposeful and calm, like a forest that knew exactly why it existed.
Alan’s passion was quiet but absolute. He knew each gibbon not as a subject, but as a presence. He could coax them into singing, and when they did, the sound lifted and braided through the air. Wild. Sweet. Precise. It felt ancient and celebratory, like something remembering itself.
I like to imagine that Alan and Terry are together again somewhere spacious and slightly unruly. Not catching up, because nothing was ever really left unsaid. Building a sanctuary, naturally. For the animals who went ahead of them. There is probably laughter. There is definitely singing.
May their journey be Safe,
Peaceful,
and Free.
