The Monkey in Michigan

(a true story with a tiny bit of imagination…)

1957

I pulled over on Kenowa Ave to check my directions from the map in the glove box of my Studebaker Champion. My map, the one I use many times for my job as an ice cream delivery man, was a complete mess. One of the last times I’d used it, I jumped in my truck to avoid a snarling dog who was chasing me while I delivered Hudsonville Ice Cream to a nearby restaurant. I had thrown the map out of my way in order to slam the door shut and get away from that furry piranha of a dog. It was probably the biggest frustrations in my job, actually, animals. I tried to fold the map back into the accordion shape it started with so I could –

I heard a loud screech, a strange, running, thumping, but even as I looked up quickly and craned my neck, I couldn’t see anything. I shook my head a bit, put my car into gear and slowly hit the gas.

I was on a dirt road, surrounded by farmland. This job was a blessing for many reasons, not just that the owner gave employees ice cream often, but also, that I had a chance to see many parts of Michigan. It is a beautiful area, a church around every corner and good people. I was glad to be –

I hear another screech and a THUD on my bumper! I slammed the car into PARK, opened the door as quickly as I could and rushed to the front of my prized Studebaker. I could not believe my eyes…. I was at the crosswalk of Kenowa and Jacob. A biker who had been going west on Jacob, was turning back toward me and this…. this…. Chimpanzee? Though it was small, it was clearly mad at almost being squashed and also…wearing a chain around its’ neck.

I held the chain at arm’s length while the biker slid to stop next to me. “Hey Linda!” he said, but I noticed, he too was keeping a safe distance.

“Son, you know this…. monkey?” I hadn’t even registered how odd this conversation was.

“Oh yes, sir! This is Linda. She is a chimp and lives just a bit over there at Mr. Kronemeyer’s farm.”

I blinked, looking from him, to the dirt road and then back at the black monkey half snarling and it seemed, half smiling at me.

Suddenly a boy about 16 came running. Another about age 12 came running behind him, though he was hesitant at best. The oldest had curly hair, a teasing smile and spoke quickly to “Linda.” “Come here, Linda. So sorry about that. She loves bikes!” He turned and pointed to a tricycle and a little 3-year-old in the driveway. Linda screeched again at the boy and bike next to me. I could not believe I was standing in Michigan, for heavens sake! I was standing there having a conversation about a MONKEY, with said MONKEY standing in front of me!

I shook my head again, looked at my car and gave all three boys a small, but still pursed smile. “I, um…have to get home, good luck with your…. pet.”

I slowly walked back to my car, still going over the whole scene in my head. I was driving in Michigan, pulled over to check my map…I must’ve daydreamed that whole thing….

The boys walked slowly back to the house grinning and nudging Linda back to the farmhouse. This happened about once a week. Well, it had for the last 6 months or so….

That night at dinner, the oldest of the boys started to tell his parents and other siblings about the events on the road that afternoon. Linda sat at the table with Mel and Margaret Kronemeyer and their 5 kids, 2 boys and 3 girls. She nibbled her food right next to the youngest, Pat, who Linda thought was her “sister.” She was fiercely protective of the blond-haired, blue-eyed girl, vacillating between protecting and playing with her as much as she could.

The other kids, well, Linda had them figured out too. When she first arrived on the farm, just as she had back in the jungles of Liberia, she would grab the hand of someone (another monkey in Liberia, people here) in the troop. She knew they were “enemies” if they pulled their hand out of her grasp, snapped at her or sometimes flinched AND tried to strike her. She usually only gave them one chance to trust her. Yes, she bit them when she grabbed their hands, but THAT wasn’t HER fault…If they didn’t trust her the first time, she just kept biting and not liking them. But the opposite was also true, if they gave her their trust, she was the most loyal companion.

  Linda was ok with the oldest boy, the man, the woman and a couple of the kids. Pat was her favorite, for sure. But, the furry one over there? That one was the worst.

While the family ate, read out of the Bible and then began talking about the bike incident, they all began to talk about her.

“Mom, can you tell again how we got Linda?” One of the kids asked.

“Well, Dad’s brother Walt and his wife Ruth were missionaries with their kids, Faith and Dale. While they were preparing to come back to the States, someone in their camp found Linda alone after realizing her mother had been killed. As they were traveling by ship, they were allowed to bring her home. When they got here, they decided she would spend time with them and here at the farm.” Pat smiled at Linda and shared a carrot, which Linda took and gobbled down.

“Ok, Saturday night, everyone gets baths, whether you need one or not!” The kids knew to not complain, but inwardly felt extremely cross. Baths took FOREVER, the water always got cold and….” Mel cleared his throat and looked sternly from child to child. They got up quickly and brought plates to the sink. The boys went to get the “bathtub,” while the girls all began to clean up the dinner dishes.

After all the kids had bathed, Linda got a bath too. This particular night, Linda wandered into the living room after her bath, tugging at the diaper they always put on after baths. She knew she would get put in the basement “jail” soon, when they all went to bed. But for a few more minutes, maybe she could play with Pat again…

Linda wandered in, saw Chubby, the big furry dog, (no idea what kind she is, she hears the farmer say, “MUTT” quite a lot.) Linda slowed down, eyeing the sleeping dog warily. She reached out slowly and gave Chubby a poke. In a flash, Chubby’s lips curled and Chubby’s jaws clamped down on her arm! Linda hopped up on the back of the couch, began inspecting the sore spot just under her fur.

 How dare he?

She kept looking at her arm, her brain fuming. She pulled her attention away from her arm, looked around the room and spied Pat’s clamp-on roller skates sitting on the floor just a few feet away.

In a flash of her own, Linda scurried down, grabbed a metal roller skate, returned to her perch and immediately threw the skate with all her might, hitting Chubby in the head! With a loud howl, Chubby stood up and got as far as he could from the furry beast on the couch. Linda continued to check her arm until the Farmer came and got her to go downstairs.

The story goes that while the Kronemeyer family slept soundly upstairs, Linda found a way to get into the freezer for ice cream and into Margaret’s prized canned peaches for her own snack when downstairs.

Margaret would also come downstairs and find her freshly laundered cloths, (no small task in a family this size) all IN LINDA’S CAGE! Margaret was so confused. She hung the clothes again, then stepped around the corner to watch what happened next…

Linda gathered her rope, then swung the extra to lasso the clean clothes and yank them back to her cage. While Margaret felt very frustrated under her breath, she reminded herself that “God loves a cheerful giver,” and began to make work of bringing Linda outside to “do her business.” Linda knew the routine, scurrying up the basement stairs quicker than Margaret due to the big basket of laundry on her hip.

Margaret held Linda’s chain and the big laundry basket, shooing her along toward the clothesline and her run. I imagine Margaret breathed a sigh of relief as she turned her attention towards the clothing and as Linda could run safely. As Margaret finished securing the pins and clothes to the line, she turned to go into the farmhouse. Mel was at work during the day as a custodian in a local school. Margert took one step, and suddenly found herself pulled to the ground. Linda had a death grip on her legs! Margaret tried to cajole her, scold her, ignore and finally resigned herself to just staying with her out on the lawn.

Many hours later, she sat in the lawn with Linda on her lap. Linda had already pooped on her lap, but refused to move OR let her move. She didn’t have time for this, but also did not have a choice. Thank goodness her older son pulled in the drive in the afternoon. He had forgotten his tie for work at the local grocery and had to wear it. He was able to talk Linda into moving and she could finally move her legs.

A few days later, she realized that her phone was on the blink. She didn’t use it much anyway, but it was convenient to keep up with family and other church members. Somehow, she got word and Michigan Bell sent a serviceman out to the farm. He rolled up the quiet dirt road, noticing the farmland. The farm house that smelled of baking, bacon and peppermint as he walked in.  He spotted some loose wires on the main floor, reattached them, then assured Mrs. Kronemeyer that it would work fine now.

5 minutes later, as he was loading up his equipment and writing notes about this specific service call, Mrs. Kronemeyer called to him. Her face looked a bit angry, but then he realized she was just busy, flour on her face and wiping her hands on a worn apron.

“It’s not working again, sir.” She said, not able to hide all of her annoyance.

“I am so sorry, let me come back and take another look!” The wires on the main floor were still attached, how odd…he looked around, could not find a problem. Finally, he said to her, “may I check the wires in the basement?”

“Of course,” she said, still covered with flour. She showed him the way to the “Michigan basement,” the cellar to hold overflow canned goods, her trusty washer and some of the excess things needed on the farm. He carefully descended the stairs to the dark basement and felt around for the pull cord on the light she had described. Ah! There it is! He grabbed the chain and pulled…suddenly seeing two dark eyes peering at him!

The serviceman must’ve yelled, because Mrs. Kronemeyer came running! She explained that the eyes belonged to “Linda, the monkey who sort of lives on their farm.” Once the serviceman’s heart rate returned to normal, he cautiously eased into the basement space and found that the monkey could reach the phone wires from her cage and was pulling them out of the wall. After a genuine fix this time, he hurried to his truck still shaking his head…a monkey? In Grandville Michigan?

Linda had many adventures, swinging a family cat around by her tail, playing with Pat and generally making life interesting around this quiet farm. She would climb trees but if anything was happening below that she deemed “threatening,” she was down that tree and in defense mode quicker than anyone could blink. But as she aged, she spent more time with Dale who had made his way to the Coast Guard.

“The Old Man,” or Captain, allowed Dale to bring Linda with him as he worked on a barge on the Mississippi, and in reality, took a liking to her. He would order coffee to the bridge in the early mornings, then page, “Chips, to the bridge!” While Dale enjoyed coffee, Cap and Linda would play. Cap would allow Linda many joys while on the ship, even making the men waiting for a break, wait a bit longer if she needed to “get off and play for a while.”

She lived with Dale on the ship during his on-duty time and his own time. Dale would take Linda for drives in his off time and it was not uncommon for people to do a triple take when beside Dale at stoplights. She happily rode in the passenger seat and even sometimes, on the side of the car with the window down. Can you imagine riding along, in 1965 in Minnesota, and looking beside you at a red light to see a monkey grinning back at you?

One night as Dale rode past a movie theater and curbside ticket seller, Linda hopped on the side of the car and began peeing down the side of the car, just feet from the ticket seller whose mouth gaped. That was better than any movie she had seen there in MONTHS.

It became evident that as Linda grew stronger, that her time in this family environment needed to come to an end. Walt knew a man who had a ‘small traveling zoo,” a few animals that he would load in his car and showcase at elementary schools in the area. Linda became a part of his crew for the next few months. But one day as he drove, she began to get agitated in the backseat. He turned and scolded Linda and she scurried to one corner of the backseat. In a flash, Linda positioned herself behind the man who was still driving and began squeezing him around the chest. Though she was small, Linda the Chimp was fast and strong. She was also smart and calculating. The man pulled over and was able to settle her down. He was grateful that things hadn’t been worse, but sadly knew that his days with her were also over.

Linda was brought to a nearby zoo and lived her days happily entertaining many “Pats.”

Walt and Ruth attempted to bring two other orphaned chimpanzee babies’ home but as time went by, the rules became stricter.

The Present

The story of Linda has been passed on from generations, always evoking laughter, shock and general surprise from all who hear about her. “How in the world? In Grandville? Did she talk too?”

 Though I never met her physically, Linda has a special place in so many “Kronemeyer hearts.” I think her feistiness, loyalty and protectiveness have a lot to teach us, even 65 years after she lived on a small farm in Grandville Michigan. I think the beauty of a family of missionaries who cared enough about an orphaned monkey to bring her home is something to think about. I’m sure theirs (or many small towns) had at least a few comments about this.

The stories of Linda gives me new perspective on my grandparents and their own ways of giving and enjoying. And to tell you the truth, I just LOVE imagining her, examining her arm and glaring at Chubby, sitting at the table in a highchair and the way her mind worked. I love the grins and giggles that bubble up when my dad and his cousin Dale begin to reminisce about this family member and the impact she still has.

The next time you are sitting at a stoplight, at a curb or even driving down a dirt road, slow down and enjoy the scenery. Chances are, you will see everyday things, but you never know. If a family in Grandville can give a monkey some fantastic Michigan experiences, there are unbelievable things around for you as well.

I wanted to share this one out of pure joy. My hope is that it blesses you as much as it has blessed my family for generations.

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