
By Bonnie Eissner
A year ago, Flaco, the Eurasian eagle-owl who escaped from the Central Park Zoo, was hanging out on the Upper West Side.
MJ Ansbro recorded him sitting on the fire escape of her building on West 85th Street. “He’s magnificent,” she said in a short video on social media.
The next day, February 2, marked Flaco’s first year of freedom since a vandal or vandals had cut the mesh of the enclosure where he had spent nearly all of his 13 years.
Two wildlife photographers who were among Flaco ‘s most ardent admirers, Upper West Side resident Jacqueline Emery and her partner David Lei, spent just under half the nights of that year following and taking pictures of the handsome owl.

They celebrated his year of freedom with friends and other Upper West Side residents as Flaco hooted from a nighttime perch atop scaffolding at West 91st Street and Broadway.
“We were hoping it was the first of many anniversaries,” Emery said on Saturday as she and Lei sat at Chalait Cafe on the Upper West Side.
It was not to be.

On February 23, Flaco died from a combination of a traumatic fall, severe pigeon herpesvirus brought on by eating feral pigeons, and rodenticides from the rats he dined on.
In their new book, Finding Flaco: Our Year with New York City’s Beloved Owl, Emery and Lei ensure that the raptor who became a symbol of freedom to the world is not forgotten.
Through evocative, close-up photos and brief essays, they depict Flaco’s transformation from fearful escapee to confident apex predator.
As one of their friends said in the book, Flaco’s tale is “like an illustrated children’s story come to life.” (Amazon now lists three children’s books about Flaco.)
Lei saw Flaco on his first night out of the zoo, and his photos capture the wide orange eyes, erect ear tufts, and skinny tawny body of a frightened owl. On Fifth Avenue, an owl who had likely never flown faced peril. Although Flaco managed to fly to Bergdorf Goodman that evening, his survival remained in doubt.
Massive and stunning, Flaco captivated Emery and Lei, who had bonded over their fondness for owls, from the start. Like others who learned of Flaco’s escape, they followed him with curiosity and concern.
But unlike fly-by-night fans, who were satisfied with seeing or photographing him once and moving on, Emery and Lei stuck with him.
“We wanted to see the behaviors, not just check him off a list,” Lei said.
They wondered, Emery added, “What’s he going to do tomorrow?”

The pair developed a routine of finding Flaco just before his daily flyout around sunset and following and photographing him into the night. Equipment, including Lei’s thermal camera and 400- and 600-millimeter lenses for close-ups, helped.
The book captures pivotal moments in Flaco’s life as a free bird. Lei was alone with Flaco in Central Park at the end of his first week as a wild bird when he caught a rat for the first time and proved he could hunt, a moment that the authors write, “would eventually change everything.”
The Wildlife Conservation Society, operator of the Central Park Zoo, soon ended its rescue effort.
Flaco stayed in Central Park through October, and the authors show him in majestic and quiet movements and poses: lifting his wings “DeLorean” style as he sat in a tree, soaring over East Drive, perched on a Komatsu excavator.
Outside the park, Flaco faced increased risk from rodenticides, which are used far more liberally on the streets. “We were very worried when he left the park,” Lei said.
Flaco flew first to the East Village, then the Lower East Side, Upper East Side, and, finally, the Upper West Side, where he stayed from November until his death in February.
Emery and Lei relied on tips from friends and neighbors to track Flaco to fire escapes and courtyards where he rested during the day. At night, they drove a path they dubbed the “hoot route,” listening as Flaco marked his territory and tried in vain to attract a mate that didn’t exist, far as he was from his species’ native regions in Europe, Asia, and northern Africa.
In the book, they report on the experiences of Upper West Siders like Alan Cohen and Nikki Rospond who found Flaco perched outside their apartment windows. Cohen, who had received some difficult medical news, was comforted by the unexpected visit.
Photos in the book show Flaco looking regal as he hoots from favorite Upper West Side water towers and rooftops, including that of the Beresford.
Emery and Lei saw Flaco alive for the last time on February 16 from the rooftop of a friend’s apartment building where they had a clear view of him atop a nearby water tower clutching a pigeon he would feast on, an unknown source of danger to the owl and his observers.
Flaco’s death was devastating, Emery recalled on Saturday as she held back tears. She and Lei had started writing Finding Flaco and didn’t know if they could finish it.
“We decided we wanted to honor his memory,” Emery said.
“And do something to benefit birds,” Lei added, noting that they want to spread the message about the dangers of rodenticides and other hazards birds face in urban environments. A portion of the proceeds from the self-published book will go to bird- and wildlife-related causes, including the Wild Bird Fund.

Last March, Emery and Lei spoke at Flaco’s memorial service, which drew hundreds of people to Flaco’s favorite oak tree in Central Park, where fans had left flowers, letters, and stuffed animals. “It was like he was a rock star,” Lei recalled.
Two of those admirers, Stella Hamilton and Valerie Hartman, saved the mementos and stored them in Hartman’s apartment.
On February 7, 70 of those items along with 14 video clips and 31 photographs by Emery, Lei, and others, will go on display in The Year of Flaco exhibition at The New York Historical.
“We didn’t expect this, and it’s just a really fitting tribute to what he meant to people,” Emery said of the show.
“Though in many ways Flaco’s life as a wild owl remained a mystery,” Emery and Lei write in the book, “what we do know is that his presence was a gift to every person who saw him, whether in the park or outside their apartment windows. Holding those deep orange eyes in a mutual gaze, we saw something in ourselves too.”
Emery and Lei will talk about Flaco’s legacy on February 12 at 6:30 p.m. as part of a panel discussion at The New York Historial.
The Year of Flaco exhibition will run from February 7 through July 6 at The New York Historical, 170 Central Park West.
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What a magnificent bird—nice that he inspired ppl but I find his life sad as well—imprisoned for 13 years in the zoo—I assume he was captured as a young bird or hatched in a zoo—I don’t know his backstory—but once released had to survive in a very hostile environment full of windows to fly into or vehicles to hit him or prey to poison him—not in the area of the world he evolved to live in with no hope of meeting another bird of his kind and no mate—he must have been so stressed—his story has been made so much about the ppls response to him and how he made them feel—sure he was a story of survival but overall I find it sad what humans did to him
Flaco’s freedom to fly was due to an act of vandalism, which subsequently led to his demise. Not sure why that’s never noted in any remembrance.
Not a birder, but have just enough interest to recognize the name of David Lei from his extraordinary, dedicated, respectful photography of owls, and that of Jacqueline Emery from earlier stories in the WSR and some other NYC bird sites. I was one of the many who saw – and heard – Flaco in passing during walks in the Park. Amazing photos by Lei and Emery have taught me so much, and immortalized this astonishing creature. Thanks to them, to their love and art about nature and birds and owls, to WSR, and NY Historical (Society) for letting us see more deeply into this odd, beautiful, sad, story.
I have pictures of him on my building fire escape on 89 St & WEA opposite my kitchen window. For about one week he would come and go during the day and sleep there at night after his journey to Central Park et al. A magnificent creature.
What a fabulous article. It has compassion, humor and wonderful detail not only of an owl named Flacco but of neighbors, and neighborhoods coming together. I live in Chicago and loved this story.
Not sure why a more serious attempt to capture Flacco wasn’t done—saw a video where a net or bag could have been thrown on him easily—seems like a mistake for a bird raised and living in captivity for so long—pretty cruel—anyone in the know of the dangers he faced must have known he was doomed
If any of you loved following the Flaco The Owl story as much as I did check out this picture book I created, now available! https://t.co/OFH4YNx8xv