Gramma arrived in San Diego sometime between 1928 and 1931, part of the very first group of Galápagos tortoises brought to the newly established Zoo. Her exact hatch date was never known, but her impossible longevity made her not only the Zoo's oldest resident, but one of its most beloved. Generations of wildlife care specialists, veterinarians, volunteers, and visitors grew up with her steady presence on Reptile Mesa, where she spent her days sunbathing, snacking on romaine lettuce and cactus fruit, and quietly embodying more than a century of the Zoo's evolving mission.
According to the Zoo, Gramma had been closely monitored for progressing bone conditions related to her extreme age. As her health declined, her care team made what they described as a compassionate and difficult decision to say goodbye. Staff members called the loss “immense” - the kind felt not just in one habitat, but across the entire institution.
Her passing also comes during a deeply painful stretch for the Zoo's animal community. Over the summer, three high-profile deaths shook the organization: Kalluk, the 24-year-old polar bear; Nicky, the 28-year-old matriarchal Masai giraffe; and Maka, the 30-year-old Western lowland gorilla whose unexpected cardiac event stunned both staff and longtime visitors. Each loss carried its own emotional weight. Together, they've created a sense within the Zoo that the institution is enduring a rare and heartbreaking cluster of goodbyes.
All of it is unfolding under the tenure of newly minted CEO Shawn Dixon , who stepped into the role just weeks ago after serving as interim chief during a year defined by labor unrest, internal frustration, and tense public negotiations with the Teamsters union. The sudden series of major animal deaths - combined with viral incidents like the October moment when a gorilla cracked an exhibit viewing window with a high-speed leap - have added another layer of scrutiny as the organization works to steady itself under new leadership.
But Gramma's death cuts especially deep because she represented the Zoo's history in a way no modern resident could. She was there before World War II, before Balboa Park had paved roads, before animals were ever livestreamed or photographed for social media. She lived through the eras of black-and-white postcards, then color brochures, then Instagram reels. She outlived 20 US presidents. She became a true San Diego icon - one whose legend grew quieter but stronger with age.
The Zoo says its teams are grieving, but also honoring Gramma's long life and the generations of conservationists she inspired. In her memory, the Zoo encouraged supporters to enjoy “a generous, fruit-filled salad” – a nod to her favorite treats and the simple pleasures that defined her century-long residency.
For a place built on the stories of animals, Gramma's is unmatched. And in a year defined by transition, controversy, and loss, her absence leaves San Diego Zoo without one of the last living links to its earliest days - and a reminder of why the work of wildlife care is as emotional as it is essential.
Originally published on November 21, 2025.
