Otherwise en-caged

In 1980, while I was working in the newsroom at WTOP, the CBS all-news radio station in Washington, D.C., I got the opportunity to serve as a volunteer animal keeper at the National Zoological Park at the Smithsonian Institution.

I loved it!

Among other things, I was responsible for feeding all the small mammals. That meant I had to walk under Ham’s cage, which hung over the stairs that led to the basement kitchen.

Ham was pretty famous. On January 31, 1961, he had blasted into outer space for what was supposed to be a 16-minute ride but lasted longer and paved the way for America’s first manned spaceflight a few months later. Ham retired from NASA in 1963, the year I graduated from high school, and was moved to the National Zoo. Whenever I had to walk under his cage on my way to the kitchen, Ham would wait until I was immediately under his metal floor and suddenly jump up and down with all his might, creating a deafening thunder, which he always seemed to enjoy.

I was also responsible for cleaning the outdoor cages of the baboons. To get from one of the huge enclosures to the next, I had to pass through a narrow lane between the bars of the cage and the fence protecting the visitors. One baboon, named Joe, sometimes managed to reach through and grab a fistful of my hair as I tried to run past. Sometimes I wasn’t fast enough, and he got a good grip that was hard to pry loose.