Lion Juice, One Day in Zimbabwe

The Lion Park

A page from Jay's Autobiography

In kindergarten, Jay drew a picture of Africa and told his student teacher about what he had seen.  Concerned because Jay insisted that he spoke from memory and not imagination, the teacher sent home a note. I sent back photos of our trip to Zimbabwe. Far-fetched as it seemed, Jay had spent time in Africa.

We went to Zimbabwe to visit Bill and Lorriane Sheehan. They offered to show us around their adopted home and took us in as family. Bill, as knowledgeable as he is charming, planned our experiences and chauffeured us around rhinos and armed guards to some of the most interesting places that we’ve been. 

The strongest memory for Jay is of his terror at the lion park. Zimbabwe has a lot of national parks and protected areas for animals. One animal that the park rangers try to keep under control is the lion. Lions, predators synonymous with fear and danger, can change an outing to a disaster so lion parks were established. The lions roam freely in the park where, after feeding time, cars full of curious people are allowed to drive. 

We drove there with Jay, Em and me in the back seat, Rick and Bill in front. Bill drove slowly through the gates and brought us to an area where lions were resting on huge boulders and dry sandy soil, a monochrome scene of tans with just a touch of green in the crooks of rocks. 

In hushed voices we shared excitement. A few feet away, lions stared with menacing eyes. We snapped photos of them yawning and showing rows of impressive teeth. Sometimes a lion would roar and give us goose bumps. All together, it was pretty cool.

Then, our feelings changed. A male, huge and powerful, stood and ambled around. We took a photo or two and then realized that this beast wasn’t stretching. He was approaching. As he headed toward the car, Bill cranked his window handle in a frantic blur.

Why Jay was correct to be frightened

Jay became nervous. He knew what lions did and he knew that where we saw a boy, the lion saw a tasty morsel. The lion put his face at our window, closing out any other view. Little Jay’s breathing was rapid. My arms around him offered no reassurance. There were few things that Mom couldn’t deal with but this clearly was one of them.

Jay started screaming when the lion stood on the trunk, letting drool make gooey tracks on the back window as he watched us cowering. Jay wanted to go from the back seat to the front seat or maybe under the front seat. “Drive the car, Uncle Bill! Drive the car!” he demanded.

The other lions, of course, became somewhat interested in the ruckus. Emilie, wide-eyed and nervous, suggested that Jay play his mimbera (thumb piano) to calm the lion. Finally, the lion backed down and returned to his dusty resting place, Jay stopped screaming, Em resumed breathing, and Uncle Bill, calm restored, drove the car.