Perhaps a few, remember the three great monkey escapes in 1940, 1945 and 1954.
There was something amusing and charming about a bunch of little monkeys escaping the Zoo and cavorting through West Philly and Fairmount Park with a posse of cops, firemen and zookeepers in hot pursuit.
About 50 rhesus monkey lived surrounded by a moat of water and a steep seven-foot wall. Standing atop the wall and water were visitors tossing peanuts and candy. Two Great Escapes occurred while the moat was drained to allow cleaning.
Monkeys on the run provided the perfect opportunity of news reporters who fancied themselves great wits and punsters to “go ape.” The May 1940 Inquirer story called those trying to round up the monkeys “great white hunters. It was the mightiest safari since Spencer Tracy found Dr. Livingston.”
One monkey was captured in a West Philly taproom “and by the time firemen arrived he was playing the pinball machine.”
Monkeys caught along the railroad tracks wanted to “hop a freight for the Congo.”
We counted 25 lame jests in this one story. One monkey died “emulating Santa Claus” by jumping down a chimney. Another corny quip had the monkeys captured with “butterfly nets, flypaper and putting salt on their tails.”
Only 13 monkeys escaped in 1940 and all were rounded-up in one day.
In 1945, 19 monkeys went on the lam when they got a wooden board and used it as bridge to cross the moat. It took six days to round them all up. The last one captured was sitting on top of George Washington’s statue in front of the Art Museum.
There were far fewer attempts at newspaper humor in 1945 when four monkeys escaped. These escapees scared motorists on what was then called the West River Drive. They played on the Girard Avenue Bridge and then returned to the zoo where they were lured into a ladies’ room with bananas and caught.
Pet monkeys sometimes escaped in the city. A rather large variety of monkey was jumping around on the rooftops of Montrose Street in South Philadelphia. Three SPCA workers were trying to net him while about 200 spectators cheered for the monkey.
The Inquirer writer couldn’t resist a little joke. After its capture, the SPCA guys “put a belt around his hands – probably to prevent him from signing a movie contract with Tarzan.”
Needless to say, headline writers got the phrase “monkey business” into all the escape stories.