the great ape of my childhood passes.

r.i.p., Frank. He wasn't quite as docile as the article makes him out to be. In the old gorilla enclosure at the Lincoln park zoo, gorilla and man were separated by about an inch of clear plastic. Frank used to have a great trick, where he would lie about two yards from the glass with his back turned to the spectators. He would wait for a crowd (inevitably with dozens of children upfront with their faces pushed to plastic) gather to gawk at his bulk. In one motion, he would leap, turn and slam into the plastic. Screams, skipped heart beats and scatter. The closest description i can come up with is an unexpected house shaking thunderclap, except with the visual accompaniment of a 300 lb gorilla flying at you. By the time you could recover enough to look up again, he was lying back in the same spot, peeking over his shoulder.