It all started out when I was about eight years old. It was the summer after the second grade in school.

I was an assertive, attention getting, physical eight year old with all the normal problems of an eight year old.

You know, the beginnings of being a "know-it-all" and stretching the truth about things I had seen and done. Why, I thought I knew everything.

I was bad to interrupt, butt in and over-ride a conversation.

I guess I told a few stories or fibs to embellish something just to be sure and get everyone’s attention or for approval.

One thing that did save me many times over was the fact that I had learned to read well before starting school and was two years ahead of everyone with my reading.

I was reading books about Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn and river adventures; stories about the sea about Long John Silver, Pirates and whales; stories about the Great Northwest Territories by Jack London and the sled dogs; stories like The Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens where he talks about Tiny Tim and the real meaning of Christmas. I loved a good mystery story. Sherlock Holmes was my favorite.

In other words...............I was ahead of everyone with my reading and it helped me to become known as a "know-it-all".

Also, since I was an infant and sitting on my mother’s knee, she had read and shown geography books to me. It gave me a real sense of location for things when they were brought up in a discussion.

Geography of course talked about all the cultures and types of people. My mind worked on an international level. Whenever I heard someone talking about wheat, I didn’t just think of Kansas, I thought of the world. I thought about equipment used to harvest wheat and how different it was in each country. It always appeared that I knew too much about what we were talking about.

Now about the reason for this story.........which is why I am telling you all this.

School was out and we left for our first Florida vacation to Tampa, Florida. It was quite a trip and not as fast as today’s automobile vacation trips. Motels were called motor courts. There were no chain restaurants like MacDonald’s or Hardys or Shoneys. There were lots of things along the way that were different and new to us and especially to me an eight-year-old boy who thought he knew everything.

We stopped at a place called Dogland, where believe it or not, they had cages and cages of just about every type dog that you could dream of from the big Newfoundland work dogs to the little bitty teacup size Mexican Chihuahua. It was interesting to us then but today I don’t think it would go over too well as far as a tourist attraction.

We stopped at an alligator farm and saw hundreds of alligators from little ones to big ones. It was neat. They had a little monkey there on a small chain and he was tame and you could play with him. I thought he was the neatest thing I had ever seen. I fell in love with the monkey. When we got ready to leave, my Dad had to pull me away from the monkey. I didn’t want to leave.

When we got back in the car I talked and talked about the monkey and all of the tricks that "I" made him do, and all of the things he did because "I" made him do it. I wanted my dad to buy me a monkey. I talked and talked about the monkey and about how if I had one at home I would take care of him and build him a little play pen so he could run and jump and do tricks. It thought it was the neatest thing I had ever seen! Eventually my dad and mom said they wish I would stop talking about the monkey and talk about something else. It took me awhile and several scoldings before I finally stopped talking about the monkey.

When we got to Tampa, my grandfather had several things lined up for us to do. Go to the beach, go fishing, go to the zoo, and go to the new Busch Gardens.

I have to tell you........to an eight-year-old boy, all of these things were exciting to me. I liked my granddad. He told stories about things he had done and places he had been. He told me about my relatives and taught me about our family history and heritage. He was interesting. He was a veteran of the Spanish American War and had been wounded. That’s why he moved to Florida when he retired early.

My grandmother also made the trip very interesting for me because she was the world’s best cook. At least as far as I was concerned she was. I remember her fried chicken and all-day-cooked green beans just like it was yesterday. Yes sir.......fried chicken.

We went to the beach. We had fun.

We went fishing and caught some fish. Funny looking fish with teeth and stripes. Nothing like our fish back home but we ate them anyway.

Then we went to the zoo. It was a new zoo. Everything was clean and neat. They had the usual things that a small new zoo has. Zebras, elephants, hippos, giraffes, lions, tigers, birds and monkeys. M-O-N-K-E-Y-S..........yes I said monkeys. My favorite animal of late.

The monkeys had an island with a big cage next to the walkway. You could walk right up to them within four feet and there were a lot of them in the cage. At feeding time they would congregate and fuss and fight over the food. It was amazing to watch them. I had never seen that many monkeys in one place. I was in heaven.

I singled out the attention of one of the monkeys. He was smaller that most of the other monkeys and seemed like he knew I was paying particular attention to him. I spent most of the time we were at the zoo paying attention to that monkey. I got attached to him. So attached to him that I almost cried when we left the zoo because I wanted to take him home with me.

On the way back to grandad’s house I out loud stated and devised several plans to rescue the monkey from Monkey Island and take him home with me. I would build him a playpen and good fence and take care of him. I could teach him tricks. He could be my buddy........Everyone in the car just laughed at me and said I was nuts........That is until they got tired of hearing about the monkey and I was threatened with punishment if I didn’t shut up talking about the monkey. Enough is enough........I was told.

Busch Gardens was new and primitive. It was free admission. They had a bird show and several caged animals.....And!.........They had an organ grinder with a monkey. I was back in hog heaven.

I played with the organ grinder’s monkey from the time I saw him until the time we left. I begged the organ grinder to sell us the monkey. I would mow yards and rake leaves forever to pay for it. No deal. You can’t have a monkey. No deal the organ grinder would not sell his monkey. I had thoughts of me and the monkey going into town when we got back home and standing in front of the drug store making music while my trained monkey danced to the tunes. What a time we would have.

Or maybe.............running off and joining the circus and performing as a clown with a trained monkey that could dance. What a life that could be for me. Oh well!.........Back to reality John. You aren’t going to get a monkey.

Immediately after leaving Busch Gardens I began to make up stories about things I had made the monkey do that the organ grinder couldn’t make him do. I told stories about how the monkey in the zoo had listened to me when I talked to him and how he had spoken back to me. I told a tale about how the monkey at the alligator place had communicated with me..........I told stories about how I could talk monkey talk....I told some lies......................That night I got punished by my dad for making up stories and not telling the truth. I should have learned my lesson from the times I was punished on that trip for telling lies. It is wrong to tell a lie.

On our way back home from the vacation I remained fairly silent. I wanted to get back in everyone’s good graces. I looked the other way when we passed the alligator farm. My brother wisecracked as we passed by, "Oh look! There’s where John talked to the monkey and the monkey talked back"..................I remained silent. I could see the look of my father in the rear view mirror. A look of sternness. A look of not wanting me to say a word. I remained silent. Hurt and ashamed of telling so many lies.
Why did I have to make them things up and tell everyone. Why did I have to tell lies.
It got me in a lot of trouble. I guess I was looking for attention. What for I didn’t know.

After we got home I couldn’t wait to get with all my buddies and tell them all about my trip. We went to the river every day that we could. That’s how we spent our summer months unless we had chores at home to do.

At the lake we lived like Tom and Huck. Pretending to be pirates and digging for treasure, having sword fights, exploring, floating on homemade rafts on the river, fishing, .........all the things that Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn did in their stories we tried to do in real life.

Sometimes we would stay overnight and camp out. Our parents would let us because in those days it was considered a safe thing for boys our age to do.

We’d sit around the fire and tell tales of what we had read in an adventure or mystery book. Or maybe some history story about Davy Crocket, Daniel Boone or a cowboy story.

After returning from the vacation I couldn’t wait to be sitting in front of that fire and telling all of the other boys about our trip. I told them all of the details about going and coming and what we did while we were there. Including the part about me communicating with the monkeys. They all guffawed at that. Said I was crazy and it’s no wonder I got a whipping for telling lies. John, them lies are going to get you in serious trouble some day. You are a know-it-all and getting a bad reputation for telling lies.........I went home the next morning feeling as though I had lost all of my friends. Why had I told them stories........I promised myself I wouldn’t do it anymore.

Several weeks passed and most of the gang had accepted me back (You know that’s the way kids are. They’ll forgive and forget and let you come back. Adults seem to have a problem with forgiveness and sure have a hard time forgetting.)......................

We were walking in the woods one-day and I saw something way up high in one of the sixty-foot tall hickory trees. Looked like a monkey to me. Keep your mouth shut John........You know what will happen if you say you see a monkey....Looking more and more intensely.......Dog gone it! It is a monkey. Two of them. In a flash they had gone. You fellers see anything up there in the tops of them trees a while ago? Nope! None of them had seen a thing........Shut up John.......They won’t believe you.............Oh well!

That night at the dinner table, we were all seated around and dad asked what we did that day just to start a conversation. The usual yack yack went around the table and when it got to be my turn to talk all I said was, " I went to the woods and had a good time and came home". My dad asked what I had seen in the woods today. Anything unusual. "No sir, I didn’t see anything.........except.......well, uh.......two monkeys swinging high in the hickory trees". " John, get up from this table, go to your room and go to bed. I’ve had enough". "If I hear one more monkey story out of you, you are going to really get punished". I went to bed with my feelings hurt for trying to tell the truth..........

Oh boy, what now?

Several days after the monkey story blew over, we went to the woods again. All the guys were kidding me about it because my two brothers spilled the beans on my dinner story. I was embarrassed. What could I say. They even started calling me the "Monkey Boy".
The combination of my Florida trip stories about monkeys and the idea of seeing the monkeys in the tall hickory trees was too much for them. They said I had stretched the truth too far and deserved to get in trouble.

Being scolded by your parents is bad enough but being admonished by your friends and peers is even worse.

As I was walking back from the woods with my friends, I sort of lagged behind and was the last one in a single file coming out. Just as we were about to leave the woods, I glanced back only to see two nice sized monkeys high in the trees appearing to wave at me. I could not believe my eyes.

I yelled for the guy in front of me to look up where I was looking but they were gone by the time he looked.

"Whats the matter Monkey Boy? Did you see another monkey".

"He saw another monkey!". "He saw another monkey!" "Ha! Ha! Monkey Boy".

All the way home and back to the house "Monkey Boy, Monkey Boy, Monkey Boy"!

My dad was just coming in from work and heard them taunting me.

"See what happens when you tell stories", may dad said.

"This ought to teach you, John".

I went to bed that night determined to exonerate myself from lying about the monkeys in the woods.

The next morning armed with my Kodak Brownie 125 camera loaded with 12 shots of black and white film, I went to the woods and river by myself.

I spent the entire day walking in the woods looking for my monkey friends. No results.

After three days in a row of searching, I was about to give up.

The end of the third day just before dark, I’d stayed longer in the woods than I planned, I spotted two monkeys right in the top of a sixty foot tall hickory tree.

I grabbed my camera quick and took all twelve shots one right after the other as fast as I could. Now I had my evidence.

I was late getting back to the house and the family was sitting at the dinner table.

My dad and mom were both mad at me for being late and wanted me to explain myself.

As I started to explain myself, I thought about the trouble I had gotten in before for talking about the monkeys.

Now I had evidence. Evidence in my camera. As soon as it is developed, I will have the last laugh.

"Dad, you know how no one believed me when I said the monkeys in Florida talked to me and I said I understood them. Well, that was stretching the truth. I just pretended that they understood me."

"Remember when I said that I could make the monkeys in Florida do tricks. That was not the truth. I couldn’t make the monkeys in Florida do anything. Not at the alligator farm, the zoo or at Busch Gardens."

"I guess I was just trying to get everybody’s attention and I’m sorry"...

"But Dad and Mom, I did see the monkeys in the woods high up in the hickory trees, even though none of the other boys said they did".

"I have twelve pictures of them right here in my camera to prove that I am right".

"When these pictures are developed, you will see that I have been telling the truth about those monkeys in the woods’".

"John, let me have that roll of film and I’ll bring it in to the drug store tomorrow to get it developed. "

"If those monkeys are on film, we will all apologise to you".

"If they are not, you are grounded to the yard for the rest of the summer for telling lies"

It took one week to ten days to get your film developed back in those days. Not like today when you can get it done in one hour.

The ten-day wait was a killer. Every day all my buddies and my brothers kidded me and called me the Monkey Boy. They let me know that I wasn’t going to have a pleasant summer being grounded to the yard. They knew that I would be at a loss not being able to go to the lake, river or woods.

Dinner hour was a silent time for me all week long. I could hardly wait for the film to arrive so that I could be exonerated. Or maybe even a hero..........Hey this may turn out to be better than I expected.

I could see all my little buddies saying how sorry they were and making me out to be "Mr. Right"......Hmmm.A hero........lots of attention........hmm, that’s what got me in all this trouble to start with. Trying to get attention.

Well, the day finally came when dad drove up in the driveway with the pack of film in his hand. He said he would wait and open it at the dinner table.

After we ate, dad opened the packet up and started passing around the black and white photos, one-by-one.

One-by-one as they passed by me I could see that there was a glare of the evening sun going down where I had seen the monkeys in the trees. All twelve passed by. I knew I was doomed.

My dad looked at me and said, "Well, I guess this will teach you a lesson, John".

"You are not to leave the yard to play or go anywhere without my direct permission".

"You will not be allowed to go to the annual summer picnic this Saturday".

"I hope this teaches you a lesson"

I was stunned. I was sure that I saw those monkeys swinging in the trees and waving at me. Could it have been my imagination?

What else could it be?

Saturday arrived and I sadly waved my family bye as they drove off to go to the annual picnic. I was left alone to stay and play in the yard.

They were going to be gone all day. What was I to do?

After sitting on the back porch for over an hour and getting bored, I decided to break my fathers rule and go back into the woods.

I wanted to see for myself one more time if those monkeys were really there.

As soon as I entered the woods I saw them. I followed them for hours as they drifted from tree-to-tree. Not paying attention to how far I had gone, I realized that I had been gone all day and it was just about dark and I was lost.

Being lost in the daytime at age eight is not a real big deal. Follow the sun, listen for activity, etc. But at night, with no moon or stars showing, it is dark. All I knew was to sit down and be still. Someone would come for me.

Morning light came. I was cold, wet, hungry and scared. But, I had survived the night and would find my way home as soon as possible.

I saw the monkeys one more time before the crowd of folks in the woods yelled out my name.

"Hey John"! "It’s John, we’ve found him".

Everyone seemed glad to see me.

I saw the face of my dad in the crowd and he looked glad not mad.

I figured I would get the spanking of my life for the stunt I pulled.

Dad picked me up and gave me a big hug.

"Boy I’m glad to see you", he said.

"I want you to meet Mr. Martin Franks. He owns a small circus. They were in town when we went to Florida and they had a wreck. Some of his animals escaped. Two of his monkeys are missing". We found out at the picnic.

"John, in front of all these people, your mother and brothers, I want to apologize to you for accusing you of telling stories about the monkeys you saw in the woods".

"Mr. Franks is offering a substantial reward for the aid and capture of the two monkeys."

"Do you think you could help him"?

I was an instant hero.

For two or three more days, I led Mr. Franks and his men into the woods in search of their monkeys. They caught them. It made the headlines of the paper.

Local Boy Helps Capture Wild Monkeys!

There was a photo of the monkeys, Mr. Franks, and me holding a check for $50.00 (a lot of money when I was an eight year old boy).