Yesterday, I was whisked back in time by a news report about a chimpanzee that escaped from its owner and was chased, or rather it chased people, police, kicked in a police cruiser window and generally went crazy. Why was I taken back in time? When I was young and living in Grand Island, NE only a few houses from my Grandmother's house, there has been severe winds one summer night. In those times, everyone listened to the radio. The next morning, a broadcast came on warning people to stay away from Ryder Park, a local ballpark near our house. During the winds the night before, the Drive In Theatre had been hit hard. So hard in fact, that the small zoo had blown over releasing several monkeys into the neighborhood. The monkeys had been spotted near the ball park.
Of course my mother immediately jumped into her car, picked up her mother and headed two blocks to Ryder Park. They had just pulled up along the street on the north side of the park and rolled down their windows when a flash jumped into the car. Sitting in the backseat was one of the wild monkeys. I'm not sure who was more scared Grandma, Mom, or the monkey. The police were nearby and rescued the monkey. Our family was showered with movie passes by Wally Kemp, the theatre owner for catching one of the monkeys.
I'm really glad I didn't hear about the escaped chimpanzee yesterday because I would have been compelled to go to the scene in memory of my Mom.
