You’ve probably seen him hundreds of times, roaring majestically before countless MGM films, but did you know that one of the original MGM lions—Slats—is buried in a quiet, unassuming spot in Gillette, New Jersey? It’s true. The iconic lion that helped brand Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer isn’t laid to rest in a fancy Hollywood cemetery but instead on the front lawn of the very man who trained him.
Back in the 1920s, MGM’s first lion, known as Slats, wasn’t like his roaring successors. Born in Dublin Zoo in 1919 and originally named Cairbre (which means “charioteer” in Irish), Slats became the face of MGM’s logo from 1924 to 1928, quietly gazing around instead of letting out the famous roar. Sound hadn’t yet come to movies, so his growls were strictly for show behind the scenes. That iconic roar would come later with another lion. But Slats had something no other MGM lion did—a unique relationship with his trainer, Volney Phifer.
Phifer, a renowned animal trainer, worked not just in Hollywood but also on Broadway. He trained Slats to growl on command, despite the limitations of silent films at the time. When Slats passed away in 1936 at the age of 17, Phifer retired to his farm in Gillette, New Jersey, where he kept a menagerie of other showbiz animals. True to his bond with the lion, Phifer buried Slats right there on his property, placing a simple block of granite to mark the grave.
But that wasn’t the end of it. In a strange twist, Phifer later planted a pine tree directly over the grave, explaining that the tree’s roots would help “hold down the lion’s spirit.” Talk about an eerie and poetic tribute!
If you want to visit this quirky piece of film history, head to Morristown Road in Gillette. Just north of Valley Road, and south of the train tracks, you’ll find Slats’ grave, hidden in plain sight on what was once Phifer’s farm. While the exact spot might not be heavily advertised, it’s one of those offbeat, roadside attractions that makes New Jersey’s history even more colorful.
So next time you’re watching an old MGM flick, you can tell your friends that the first lion to grace the silver screen didn’t just end up as Hollywood legend—he’s buried under a pine tree in rural New Jersey.
