Flaco’s Cause of Death Confirmed; a Central Park Memorial; and an Ode to the Eurasian-Eagle Owl

By Gus Saltonstall

In the days following the tragic news on Friday night that Flaco the Eurasian eagle-owl died after crashing into a building on West 89th Street, a memorial has begun to grow in Central Park.

Over the weekend, countless New Yorkers visited a large tree in Central Park around East 102nd Street near the North Woods, where Flaco was known to visit in the early months following his escape from the zoo in February 2023.

People of all ages paid their respect to the fallen owl, bringing flowers, drawings, and handwritten cards.

“You moved us all, we loved you so much,” one of the many cards left at the bottom of the tree read. “We are so glad you had a year of freedom.”

A Bronx Zoo pathologists performed a necropsy over the weekend on Flaco, which confirmed that the bird died from an “acute traumatic injury.” He sustained hemorrhages under the sternum and in the back around the liver, but there was no evidence of significant head trauma or bone fractures.

The report added Flaco appeared to be in “good body condition at the time of his death,” but that next steps would be to identify any “underlying factor” that might have negatively affected his health or contributed to his death.

The results from these further tests, which would include any levels of rat poison in his blood or possible viruses, will take multiple weeks to obtain.

As reported by The New York Times, Flaco will be one of a billion birds that will die in the United States this year after striking a building. Building strikes are a leading cause of death for birds, especially during migration seasons, and cities have begun taking actions to try to mitigate these fatalities. You can read about the topic — HERE.

Janet Wikler, a West Side Rag reader, penned an “Ode to Flaco.”

Ode to Flaco
By Janet Wikler
February 24, 2024

At Central Park, inside the zoo, in Feb of ’23,
A silent someone slashed your cage and swiftly set you free.
It happened in the dead of night; and no one saw or heard,
When, liberated, you took flight, a lone majestic bird.
How wonderful it must have been to rise above the trees,
To spread your six-foot wings at last and soar upon the breeze.
And as the city slept you rose and flew into the Park
Where soon you found a comfy tree to roost on in the dark.
What joy it must have been to leave your tiny little space!
Yet freedom held some challenges that you would have to face.
You’d never hunted on your own; the experts thought you’d fail.
The zoo folks tried to capture you and take you back to jail.
So, you set out to learn to hunt and catch your prey alive,
And before long you had the skills you needed to survive.
With beauty, strength, and courage, and a passion to live free,
You soon became a symbol of our love for liberty.
Oh Flaco, how you stole our hearts and won our admiration!
For us New Yorkers you were neighbor, friend, and inspiration.
Your reputation grew and spread until your tale was known
Throughout the world; yet we rejoiced that Flaco was our own.
For one full year and more you brought us hope, and love, and joy;
Yet tragedy awaited you, our dear, beloved boy.
You crashed into a building, and we don’t yet know the reason;
But we have lost a treasured friend this cold and bitter season.
Your spirit lives on, Flaco, in our minds, our hearts, our love.
You’ll always be a part of us as your soul soars above.
We’ll miss you, Flaco, all our lives; and though we shed a tear,
We’re grateful that you graced us with your presence for a year.

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