I love an urban legend. From the “lion” who occasionally makes an appearance in the nearby suburb of Gahanna to the ghostly stories linked to the Ohio State Penitentiary that was still in operation when I moved to this area. The Penitentiary since been demolished and was eventually replaced by a spanking new NHL hockey arena. The lack of success for the first number of the years of the NHL team was so disturbing to some fans that they took it upon themselves to smudge the grounds on their own volition. Dead inmates don’t like hockey?
The following story has been misrepresented as an urban legend…it is not a legend because it is absolutely true. I wasn’t told the story by the friend of a friend, I actually witnessed it myself and have since found out that my friend’s daughter can back me up. She is a witness as well. She said she used to play on her friend’s swing set who lived next door. My mother would not have approved…
The absolutely true story is called “The Clintonville Alligator.” The one not quite true part of that sentence is the alligator didn’t actually reside in Clintonville, but just barely outside the official limits. That’s kind of funny in itself because Clintonville isn’t a town or even suburb, it’s a neighborhood in the city that sits just north of Ohio State University. The area runs from high-end older homes to much more modest homes and apartments although these days the desirable location makes housing prices and rents so over the top, it’s socio-economics are a lot less clear.
My roommate and I were visiting a friend who lived in the then modestly priced area of “not really” Clintonville when we decided to go for a walk. Our friend was a bit of a trash picker and liked to walk through the alley to look for treasures. While out, he asked us if we’d like to see the Clintonville Alligator, he couldn’t promise we’d actually get to see it since it wasn’t always out in its yard, but we could go have a look. He told us that one day while treasure-hunting he came across some young boys digging around a trash bin. He asked them what they were doing and they told him they were trying to catch mice to feed the alligator. Alligator? What alligator? “Want to see? We’ll show you!” Sure enough they led him to a nicely kept back yard and there sat (Do alligators sit?) an approximately six-foot alligator. There was a low fence that kept the reptile in although after I saw the fence, I realized it was probably the alligator’s choice not to leave the yard. He could have cleared it easily if he so desired.
It took us a couple of blocks to find the yard and much to our disappointment there was no alligator out on display but then the magic happened…an older lady who looked like she walked off the pages of a Far Side comic opened the back door and asked if we were looking for the alligator. It was quite obvious so we owned up to it and she said that he was inside but if we liked, we could come in and have a look. Doesn’t sound too scary…okay it was really creepy and a bit scary but there were three of us and one of her. Still, stupid idea, I know.
The three of us walked into her back door. It was an older home, the kind with somewhat steep stairs to the basement but we were used to houses with that floor plan and the place was very neat and clean. She proceeded us down the basement stairs (okay, we’re idiots, I know…) and as we were about halfway down, we could see the alligator in a blue kiddie pool in the basement, all happy and tidy. Mrs. Far Side told us that her son brought him back from Florida from a family trip and he’d been with them ever since. There were pictures of her son on the wall leading down to the basement, and she intimated that her son was “not quite right.” We interpreted that as maybe he didn’t conform in some way and/or was possibly gay.
Anyway, our Far Side friend situated herself behind the alligator next to the pool and was telling us how when he wanted to go outside, he would crawl up the stairs and knock his snout on the door to be let out and likewise to come in. What a polite reptile. I had to wonder if he was potty-trained. How does one potty train an alligator? Very carefully?
I didn’t ask the question because at that moment she grabbed the alligator by the tail and pulled to get him to greet us, at least I think that’s what she was trying to do, and the alligator responded by lifting his huge snout/head and hissing in what I interpreted as a very annoyed manner. That pretty much was the end of the visit as my friend who was step or so below me, pushed me against the wall and fled up the stairs. I guess my daughter is right, you just have to faster than the next person to survive the zombie apocalypse and apparently, I am gator bait.
That pretty much ended the visit, we thanked Mrs. Far Side and walked back. We didn’t have a lot to say, it had been a lot to take in.
I read a few years ago that someone reported Mrs. Far Side for having this rather dangerous and unconventional pet and when the animal control officials came out, they eventually determined that the alligator was being well taken care of and this was a safe(?) and heathy environment. I also believe that they probably took into account that moving the alligator to a zoo or other facility would be very bad for him as he was living in that environment for so long, he might not survive a move.
Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. I wish I’d come up with that line.
Khatzkel Did It 