Manitoba

Monkeys in the lingerie department: Things went ape at The Bay in Christmas 1957

Winnipeg's downtown Hudson's Bay store is often a bustling place around Christmas but for a brief time in 1957, it was bananas.

Shoppers were unfazed by the fugitives from the 6th-floor toy department

Three monkeys escaped their cages inside The Bay in 1957 and explored part of the department store amid all of the Christmas shoppers. (Winnipeg Free Press)

NOTE: This story was originally published on Dec. 25, 2018.

Winnipeg's downtown Hudson's Bay store is often a bustling place around Christmas but for a brief time in 1957, it was bananas.

A woman trying on a dress in a third-floor fitting room of the flagship department store on Dec. 11 heard feet hopping around — above her.

When she looked up, she was being stared at in return by a curious monkey. 

That monkey was Teena, one of three that figured out how to liberate themselves from their cages that were part of a display in the sixth floor toy department, according to a story in the Winnipeg Free Press, headlined Real monkey business in big city store.

The Winnipeg Free Press had fun with the story. (Winnipeg Free Press)

The other two, which weren't named in the article, spent their time swinging through artificial trees around the dining area of the Paddlewheel restaurant.

None of the monkeys caused any damage or, it would appear, distress among the Christmas shoppers.

Bought a banana

Rather than shouting or running, the woman in the lingerie department went and bought Teena a banana, according to the article.

Then other shoppers and staff in the department kept the monkey occupied while the woman went to the sixth floor to get the monkey's owner, Robert Page.

Teena is seen perched above shoppers in the lingerie department just a few hours before she was back in custody. (Winnipeg Free Press)

He said the monkeys discovered the ventilation doors on their cages were loose and managed to move them out of the way.

A few shoppers said the playful primates didn't bother them one bit. In fact, they enjoyed them being out of their cages more so than inside them, the article said.

Teena was rounded up soon after her banana but the other two spent at least another day on the lam.

The article, published a day after the monkeys escaped, said those two were still exploring and getting a kick out of the rotating paddle wheel in the restaurant.

"We'll just leave the cage open for them and they'll come back," Page said.

Monkey visits office

The unnamed manager of the toy department told the Free Press that one of them visited his office, looked over some papers on his desk then scampered off again.

Perhaps more shocking than the unflappable attitude of the people was the fact those three monkeys were part of a larger troop of 16 — as well as a chimpanzee and a baboon — that Page brought to the store to entertain shoppers.

It was a different time then, before laws prohibited private zoos. It was also a time when The Bay stretched throughout the six floors of its massive Tyndall limestone building.

The Paddlewheel served its last meal almost six years ago and current store has shrunk its retail space to just two floors.

While most of that store has vanished, so has any trace of Robert Page — at least the one with the supply of simians.

However, there is another Robert Page who remembers the man with the same moniker.

Christmas trees and candy canes decorate the sidewalk overhang of the Hudson's Bay in this 1961 photo of Portage Avenue and Memorial Boulevard. (University of Manitoba Winnipeg Building Index)

The present Page, a retired high school teacher and current trustee in Winnipeg's Louis Riel School Division, was a boy at Mulvey elementary school when the elder Page paid a visit with some of his animals.

"I remember him coming in, he brought a black panther," Page recalled. "And he made it purr for us. It was something I'll never forget."

Page says his father was also named Robert, which led to some confusion with the one who had the travelling zoo.

"One day my mother got a phone call and the person on the other end of the line said, 'Is this the home of Robert Page?' So my mom, of course, said 'yes,'" Page said.

"Then the man asked her, 'So where do you want the hay for the elephant?'"

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Darren Bernhardt specializes in offbeat and local history stories. He is the author of two bestselling books: The Lesser Known: A History of Oddities from the Heart of the Continent, and Prairie Oddities: Punkinhead, Peculiar Gravity and More Lesser Known Histories.