Once upon a time, there was an owl named Flaco. This Eurasian eagle-owl is native to much of Europe and Asia, but not North America. Hatched in Scotland Neck, North Carolina, U.S.A. in March 2010, he was delivered to the Central Park Zoo a few months later making his “public debut”.

For over a decade, Flaco amused all the onlookers as he lived in his makeshift apartment the size of a department store window, furnished with tree branches, fake rocks and a painted mural of a mountain landscape.

Then, unfortunately, in February of 2023 vandals cut the protective netting of his cage - no one knows why and it is still an open investigation. 

Flaco the owl made his way through the opening and was suddenly experiencing freedom for the first time in his life in the wide expanse of Central Parks grounds and trees. With his new found independence came exposure to risk and all the real-life perils and thrills of New York City. 

Never before had the owl seen such wide open spaces. Never before had he been harassed by squirrels, noisy blue jays or streetwise crows. Even rain was felt for the first time in his life.

Flaco became an instant celebrity once the news of his “escape” became public via television and New York City newspapers. After living in a small zoo in America’s largest city, his story was a cliffhanger about escape, freedom and resilience.

For a year, New Yorkers and tourists followed his story. Somewhere and somehow, it was daily news. Never having to fend for himself, he was like the child who left home for the first time, venturing out on their own. 

For Flaco, there was the mixture of anxiety, hope and worry, that after a lifetime in captivity, he wouldn’t know how to feed himself or keep himself safe. The initial worry was he could crash into a skyscraper window, run into a Central Park coyote, or get hit by a moving bus. 

Within the week, he was spotted capturing rodents in his talons and vomiting bone and fur. Even after a decade of being fed quality dead mice and rats by the zookeepers, he still maintained a level of predatory skills. 

In the long run, Flaco did succeed. Initially his flying was a little wobbly, as reported by the myriad of daily onlookers. It took a little while to build enough muscle and strength, but he soon adapted to his new environment.

Flaco set up residence in Central Park. Curious New Yorkers adopted him as an unofficial mascot of the city.

He was spotted everywhere… from Central Park to many rooftops, flag poles, metal staircases, any secure landing spot for this seven pound owl with a six foot wingspan dubbed,  the ultimate New Yorker by tourists and photographers. 

Flaco soon became the underdog everyone rooted for. A number of artists painted murals of Flaco, poets wrote poems about him, musicians wrote songs about him, and some people got tattoos of his likeness.

Unfortunately, Flaco's run with his free life came to an end as he died from "acute traumatic injury" after crashing into a buildings clear glass window. 

Here are a few lines written by Janet Wikler, on February 24, 2024 titled,

Ode to Flaco...

Your reputation grew and spread until your tale was known,

Throughout the world; yet we rejoiced that Flaco was our own,

You crashed into a building, and we don't know the reason,

But we have lost a treasured friend this cold and bitter season.

Your spirit lives on, Flaco, in our minds, ourhearts and love,

You'll always be a part of us, as you soul soars above.

I remember the incident of his "escape" last year, with it being on the news. But living in New Jersey I never heard of Flaco again until this past weekend when a memorial was held for him in Central Park with about 1,000 onlookers.

Amazing that an owl developed into a celebrity, an underdog so many people rooted for and became a symbolof freedom and resilience.

R.I.P. FLACO