During the 1880s, James Edwin Wide, a signalman with a peg leg, found himself in a bustling South African market, where an extraordinary sight caught his attention. He witnessed a remarkable scene: a chacma baboon skillfully driving an oxcart. Intrigued and impressed, Wide decided to purchase the baboon and give him the name Jack, transforming him into both a beloved pet and a personal assistant.

Wide’s own physical limitations posed challenges for his daily routines, especially his arduous half-mile journey to the train station. Having lost both legs in a previous work accident, he relied on Jack for assistance. The first task Wide trained Jack for was to push him to and from work in a small trolley, easing his commute. Before long, Jack’s capabilities expanded, and he eagerly took on additional responsibilities such as sweeping floors and taking out the trash, becoming an indispensable helper around the house.

However, it was in the signal box where Jack truly excelled. As trains approached the rail switches at the Uitenhage train station, they would emit a specific number of whistle toots to indicate to the signalman which tracks needed to be adjusted. Observing his owner, Jack quickly grasped the pattern and began pulling the levers himself.

Before long, Wide found himself able to lean back and relax while his furry companion took charge of the rail switching duties. As reported in The Railway Signal, Wide had trained Jack to such a remarkable degree that he could comfortably sit in his cabin, occupied with tasks like stuffing birds, while the baboon, securely chained outside, skillfully operated all the levers and points.

According to the tale, a well-to-do passenger traveling on a train happened to glance out of the window and was taken aback to witness a baboon, rather than a human, operating the gears. Disturbed by this unconventional sight, the passenger lodged a complaint with the railway authorities. However, instead of terminating Wide’s employment, the railway managers decided to test the baboon’s capabilities in order to address the complaint. What they discovered left them utterly astonished.

Railway superintendent George B. Howe, who paid a visit to the baboon around 1890, penned his amazement in words: “Jack is as knowledgeable as I am when it comes to the signal whistle and every single lever.” He further described a heartwarming scene where he observed the deep affection between Jack and his master. As Howe approached, he witnessed them both seated on the trolley. The baboon had its arms wrapped around Wide’s neck, while the other hand gently caressed Wide’s face.

Reportedly, Jack was even assigned an official employment number and received a daily wage of 20 cents along with a weekly half-bottle of beer. Tragically, Jack’s life was cut short in 1890 due to tuberculosis. However, throughout his nine years of service on the railways, he never made a single mistake—a testament that the pursuit of perfectionism transcends beyond the boundaries of human nature. His skull now resides in the collection of the Albany Museum in Grahamstown.