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Over the years, many apes of various shapes and sizes have passed through New York City's tangled confusion with varying degrees of success. Some have prospered and thrived, while others were left penniless and forlorn. Some have become renowned and legendary figures, while others became figures of derision and ridicule. Some apes were even elected to city government, joining other less-developed forms of life there. But one ape experienced the entire spectrum of highs and lows; working his way from the very top to the very bottom, one week in April 1983.

King Kong (formerly of Skull Island) was forced to relocate to NYC (if only, as it turned out, a short-lived move) and make it his home...and make it his home he did!!! Never before, or since, did an ape "do the town" the way Kong did it, with time and energy to spare. Learning self-reliance and initiative from his free and easy days on the island (battling a prehistoric beast here, a strange-looking intruder there), Kong was more than ready for his trip to New York and his star-crossed but high-spirited romance with Fay Wray. Alas, just when it seemed that the Big Ape had mad a monkey of the Big Apple and had achieved the heights of love and that of the Empire State Building, a squadron of biplanes ruined the King's plans for a triumphant municipal and nuptial future.

Any ape that comes to New York and makes a spectacle of himself atop the Empire State Building will invariably run into trouble: the bigger the ape, the bigger the trouble. This is what King Kong experienced in 1933 and this is what happended again in 1983 when the 50th anniversary of the film was being commemorated.

A probably well-meaning but hopelessly unfortunate group of promoters constructed a 3,000 pound, eight-story nylon balloon model of the late and legendary ape, which they intended to tether outside the 86th floor of the Empire State Building (minus Fay Wray, of course) for all to see. From the start, things went wrong with the ape-balloon suffering a blowout in its armpit during a test and dangling in a heap from the side of the building, bringing disappointment to eager onlookers. Undaunted, the promoters (after correcting the tangled tethers and repairing the punctured hole) cheerfully announced that Kong was still scheduled to make his debut for his seven- to ten-day appearance the next day. With millions of people watching on television, and hundreds of thousands along the streets and highways of the city craned for a glimpse of the ape, the Empire State Building was there...but no King Kong. And the next day came and the next, with no King Kong or just sporadic, momentary sightings of his inflated image...looking like an escapee from a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

The promoters continued the ballyhoo as if nothing untoward had happened. While Kong continued to foolishly dangle above, hemorrhaging air, in the lobby an endless series of press conferences featured government officials and corporations pledging services to the Kong Project in glowing terms and cynical posturings. King Kong-related memorabilia and souvenirs were on display and sold nearby, accompanied by a week of continuous showings of the film in revival theaters and on television. Hundreds of dignitaries and press representatives consumed hor d'oeuvres in the building's observatory as a man in a gorilla suit standing next to Harry Helmsley (then the owner of the Empire State Building) greeted everyone.

To add to the absurdity, dodging helicopters carrying news photographers and a few airliners flying special routes to give passengers a glimpse of the Kong balloon, two biplanes (replicas of those that had shot and killed Kong in the film) buzzed the building. By this time, however, no one really cared and most New Yorkers couldn't wait until the dignitaries, the officials and (especially) the promoters would get lost and take their balloon with them. King Kong had to have been rolling over in his grave during all of this...but such are the ups and downs of show biz concerning issues of ape and man.