“See you later alligator
After ‘while crocodile
Can’t you see you’re in my way now?
Don’t you know you cramp my style?”
… Bill Haley & His Comets
What started out as an April Fool’s prank one year turned this city into a pandemonium. Don’t ask me the year. Suffice it to say it was sometime in the late 1970’s, long after I had arrived at the Gazette.
I remember my editor telling me to hunt down stories that would make people mesmerized. “Shock them. Make them laugh. Create an impact: that’s what draws readers.”
Easier said than done sometimes. It isn’t always that a story of untold proportions comes jumping into your lap, unless you use a little exaggeration.
I’ve always been one to pull a practical joke on April 1. It started with a whoopee cushion that sent my grandmother into a tizzy. For years, I had a blast with some fake dog poop. The dribbling glass soaked a lot of neckties. And what about the flexible fork? A formal dinner party came unglued after that one.
April Fool’s Day was around the corner and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some incredulous story that would send readers into delirium, like that Orson Welles “War of the Worlds” episode he unloaded one night over the radio in 1938. Remember that?
I mean, who would have ever believed an actual alien invasion by Martians, but Orson sent listeners into such a panic mode, they abandoned their homes and ran for cover.
I wasn’t out to do the same thing, a simple gag to arouse anyone’s sense of humor. That’s all. Like my editor said, “A little fun in life never hurt anyone. Human interest sells newspapers.”
Think, Tom. In this naked city of 1,001 stories, there must be one that can get people’s gander going. And then it hit me like a sack of potatoes.
There was this business off Winter Street called “Operation Alligator,” which dealt in reptile skin products. Back then, alligator shoes were in vogue and there were no restrictions. A guy named Metz ran the place and he had a mind of his own.
As you walked through the door, a stuffed ‘gator greeted you at the stairwell. It was his mascot and the mouth was open, ready for a bite. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a scene out of Lake Placid.
Keep thinking… What good would a stuffed animal be without a human prop? Well, Metz had just the person: an office worker who’d be willing to go along with the gag.
It would be my first encounter with Sally Gilday, later Sally Cerasuolo, even later, chairwoman of the Greater Haverhill Chamber of Commerce.
“Come with me,” I proposed. “We’re going for a little ride.”
With this six-foot ‘gator stuck in the back seat of a Volkswagen, tail sticking out the window, off we went to Plug Pond for what was to be a setup shot. Nobody was looking.
Off went my shoes and socks, pants rolled to my knees, and out to the pond I waded, reptile in hand. There before me was a boulder protruding from shallow water where the gator was carefully placed. Elton John would have loved this rendition of “Crocodile Rock.”
Next, I had Sally pull off the greatest acting scene you ever saw, mouth agape, arms hurled back, a face full of fright as if the jaws of life were lunching toward his next meal.
The next day’s edition (April 1) reported an alligator invasion at Plug Pond, and how some callous resident had admitted transporting eggs from Florida and tossing them into the water where they hatched over time.
“No cause for alarm, folks. The city’s animal control officer is addressing the problem and skin divers are on the scene.”
The paper’s switchboard lit up like a Christmas tree with petrified callers. Our beloved Plug Pond was infested with ‘gators! Would they suddenly make their way ashore and begin invading people’s homes? What was to become of summer activity at that recreation site? Who was to blame for such insolence?
All those questions came to resolve the next day in a retraction story that left the city’s population relieved. Some laughed about it. Others were not so amused after getting the scare of a lifetime. As for Sally, she never lived the incident down, even during her years of public service.
Tom Vartabedian
Latest posts by Tom Vartabedian (see all)
- Vartabedian: My Final Column - November 13, 2016
- A Hat to Match Any Occasion - October 19, 2016
- More Smiles Keep the Frowns Away - October 12, 2016
Be the first to comment