This piece is the second in a three-part series about the mystery of the Boston Garden monkey. To read the first installment, click here. To read part three, click here.

Late in September, in honor of the 20th anniversary of the closing of the Boston Garden, we told the story of the Boston Garden monkey: In 1998, while taking down the historic arena, building wreckers were said to have come across the corpse of a monkey.

Despite our research, many parts of the story remained nothing more than urban legend. Where did this monkey come from? Where did it go? Was the monkey even real at all?


Thanks to Richard Bagen Sr., a building wrecker from East Weymouth who helped demolish the Garden, and his wife, Kathy Bagen, we may have some clarity.

Bagen, a member of Post 1421, remembers the monkey quite clearly—and has a binder full of photos to prove it.

Bagen said he was working on the roof of the Garden when he and his co-workers found the dead monkey wedged between a trestle and the roof panel.

“[The monkey] must’ve realized, ‘This is a dead end.’’’ Bagen said.

Bagen’s former co-worker, Eddie Sullivan, also worked on the demolition of the Garden and remembers the monkey quite vividly.

Members of the building wreckers who were working on the roof of the Garden and found the monkey. —Eddie Sullivan

“I believe it was five of us on the roof of the Boston Garden,’’ Sullivan said. “The Garden was built by roof trestles because there were no support beams in the middle because it was an arena. We were exposing certain areas of the roof when we would cut the trestles to take it down, and when we were peeling back the roof, that’s when we found the monkey wedged in between one of of the trestles and the roof of the Garden.’’

The Boston Garden, mid-demolition. The monkey was found wedged between a roof panel and one of the building trestles. —Eddie Sullivan

For the crew of building wreckers, the real challenge was keeping the deceased animal from officials at the Fleet Center and Morse Diesel, the company overseeing the demolition of the building. Bagen says that Morse Diesel was strict, and the wreckers had a feeling that they would want the monkey disposed of.


“We hid it from Morse Diesel for a couple of days, and they came looking for it,’’ Bagen said. “We actually put it in an electrical panel where we parked our cars, we hid it in there.’’

The Boston Garden monkey on a welcome sign to the Fleet Center. —Richard Bagen

The back of the photo above is clearly dated May 1998. —Richard Bagen

Sullivan recalled instances where footage of the monkey almost made its way into the news.

“We were working late one night, and Channel 7 News was there. And I jokingly said to them, ‘Hey, do you want an exclusive on the monkey?’ He didn’t believe the story.’’

The Boston Globe, which had the story—Judy Rakowski wrote about the monkey in May 1998— wasn’t able to get photos.

“A guy from the Globe came, he took a picture of me taking a picture of the inside of the Garden,’’ Sullivan said. “We told the guy from the Globe [about the monkey] and he came back to take pictures, and the Fleet Center stopped him from entering the building. Next thing you know, there were about five guys in suits coming around the corner [looking for us] and they wanted the monkey.’’

The photo of Eddie Sullivan taking a picture of the inside of the Boston Garden. —The Boston Globe

While both Bagen and Sullivan are confident in their belief that the monkey was real, their guesses are as good as anyone else’s as to how a monkey got lost in the Boston Garden.

“When we found him, you could see his hands and his fingernails,’’ Bagen said. “He wasn’t quite a skeleton yet, more just mummified. We just figured it was from the circus at some point and it lived on peanuts and popcorn. Up near the roof, there’s a space between the roof panel and the tressels, so he might have lived in there for who knows how long.’’

A photo of the Boston Garden monkey on the construction site. —Richard Bagen


Sullivan said he thinks that the monkey may have gotten his foot stuck, which ultimately led to its demise.

“The way he was wedged up in the rafters,’’ he said, “it was like something scared him and he got stuck.’’

The Boston Garden monkey, leaning up against a North Station sign. —Richard Bagen

For Bagen, this isn’t even the strangest thing he found in his demolition days, although he admitted it’s the weirdest animal he ever encountered. In 2007, while working in the Paramount Theatre in Boston, Bagen came upon a mysterious wallet.

“[Kathy] did all the research and found whose it was,’’ Bagen said. “He had died and it was there for [many] years.’’

As it turns out, Val Gregoire, an 18-year-old sailor on shore leave in Boston, left the wallet there on April 11, 1951. Fifty-six years later, Bagen and his wife returned the wallet to Gregoire’s widow.

Sullivan never saw anything else like the monkey in his career, and noted how crazy people go over the story when he tells it.

“People are just fascinated by it,’’ Sullivan said. “Certain guys at the bar will say, ‘Eddie, you got to come over here and tell the story about the monkey.’ I even brought it in the bar one night. People are just blown away.’’

The top left photo is dated May 1998 on the back of the photo directly below it. The back of the photo on the bottom right is dated above it.

It doesn’t stop there though. The story of the monkey has spread so far that Sullivan knows people who have taken the legend to a whole new level.

“I told a buddy of mine who I used to drink with,’’ Sullivan said. “His brother owns a super race car. He named the race car ‘The Boston Monkey,’ and on the side of the car it shows the monkey hanging off the rafters.’’

“They even said Larry Bird had seen [the monkey] a number of times,’’ Sullivan said, referring to the folklore evolved from the monkey story.

Sullivan mentioned three songs that make reference to “The Boston Monkey’’: “Boston Monkey’’ by Otis Redding, “Hard Drivin’ Man’’ by J Geils Band, and “Midnight Rambler’’ by The Rolling Stones.

Based on our research, the first two songs are likely based on a popular ’60s dance called “The Boston Monkey.’’ The origins of the dance, or its name for that matter, are unknown, but it has been around since decades before the monkey’s body was discovered. The Rolling Stones tune was based on Albert DeSalvo, aka “The Boston Strangler.’’ For what it’s worth, we also found no mention of a monkey in the Stones’s song.

Others outside of the group of Garden building wreckers can vouch for the monkey, though. After the first story of this series published, Ken Casey of the Dropkick Murphys gave his vote of confidence in the monkey, sending this photo as his proof:

@PerryEaton here is the proof of monkey from the Garden. Looking for another where the monkey has a hard hat on. pic.twitter.com/trbAxFiWe0 — Ken Casey (@KenDKM) November 5, 2015

So there are indeed people who have seen the Boston Garden monkey. Two men who worked on the Garden demolition have confirmed that it’s real. They have stories that match up and photos to prove it. Heck, even a Dropkick Murphy has given the monkey a nod.

Their evidence shows the Boston monkey was a living — then dead — thing.

So after finding the monkey in 1998, Bagen, Sullivan, and the crew of building wreckers got some pictures, had some fun with the corpse, and then said a proper farewell, right?

“No, my brother took it.’’ Bagen said.

He said he believes that his brother, John Bagen, who also worked on the Garden demo, may still have the monkey.

“He might sit out on the porch and still talk to it,’’ Bagen said. “I have no clue.’’

Sullivan also said he thinks the monkey is still hanging around.

“It’s still in the South Shore, someone has it,’’ Sullivan said. “He’s been to Laconia Bike Week a few times on the back of a guy’s motorcycle.’’