Gorillas in our Midst

The year was 1982. My father was stationed in Montgomery, Alabama and we were living in a ranch-style house that we would inhabit for less than a year. It was just before dinner time, in the living room. Dad was watching the news (natch), and I was on the couch near him reading comics (natch).



I was thoroughly absorbed by George Perez art on the New Teen Titans. I was amazed by this incredible find that I had ignored for eighteen issues so far. I felt very behind. The smell of pipe smoke hung in the air and there was the sound of ice cubes tinkling in the ritualistic glass of pre-dinner bourbon. My father’s… not mine. I had a plastic cup of last night’s leftover iced tea. My mother was in the kitchen making dinner. The newsman droned on in the background. I ignored him, until the story came on about one particularly inhumane force in some foreign country or other being beat back by gorillas.

My head shot up in surprise. What? What did that newsman just say?

I turned to my Dad, who was showing no visible signs of having heard this amazing discovery. This revolutionary method of warfare that was straight out of a comic book.


“Dad, did I hear that right?” I asked. I was eager at my chance to show that I was actually paying attention to the news. (I was not.) “Did they really turn gorillas loose on them?”

“Yup.” was my Father’s standard, overly-verbose answer.

I laughed. “That’s awesome.”

He looked at me. Took a long drag on the pipe.

I went back to reading my comic book.

He looked back at the news.

Visions of Super Gorilla Grodd leading a charge of advanced gorillas on the helpless forces was making me giggle a little. Sometimes life really does imitate comic book art, as the saying goes. My little sixth grade head shook in worldly wonder. I took pride in that I was old enough now to share amazement in a news story with my father just as any other adult would.



It was years later when I learned what a “guerilla” was.






Thanks,
DCD