The Year of Flaco: Birds of a Feather Stick Together in NYC

On Friday, February 7, city dwellers flocked to The New York Historical for the opening of The Year of Flaco. Housed in a hallway-style gallery on the second floor just beyond the staircase, the informative but inauspicious exhibit is a fitting reflection on the life of Flaco. Flaco was a small Eurasian eagle-owl from the Central Park Zoo who escaped his enclosure on February 2, 2023, and quickly soared into celebrity status.

Flaco’s travels around Manhattan for just over a year captivated the hearts of New Yorkers who celebrated his newfound freedom, fell asleep to the tune of his nighttime hoots, and viewed him as the perfect embodiment of the city’s spirit — resilient and majestic.

The bird had spent his life in a limited enclosure and likely had no dreams of flying free. It wasn’t until vandals cut away the wire mesh of his cage that he had the opportunity to explore the urban jungle. And explore, he did — marveling at New Yorkers from various perches outside of apartment buildings. The subject of many photographs and videos, some of which are on display at the museum, Flaco’s adventures re-ignited an interest in birding and wildlife protection.

“How sad,” Flaco must have thought as he sat atop buildings and water towers — the same people who he had viewed from inside Central Park were now encased in their own glass houses. Little did he know the impact that he was having on the city. He was celebrated in life; but in death, he has renewed efforts to protect urban wildlife, galvanizing legislation to, for example, reduce light pollution. The Year of Flaco delves into the owl’s legacy, sharing the importance of birds to our ecosystem — they disperse seeds, pollinate plants, and help control pests; and it highlights the importance of New York City as a stop along a major migratory route called the Atlantic Flyway.

Flaco was spotted all around Manhattan, and avid and amateur bird watchers tracked his every movement — from Central Park to the Upper East and West Sides to the Lower East Side. He died on February 23, 2024 from a combination of flying into or falling from an Upper West Side building, pigeon herpesvirus and exposure to rodenticides.

It’s protocol for zoo employees to attempt to recapture escaped animals who have never fended for themselves in the wild. Owls raised by humans and then released are prone to exhibiting dangerous behaviors when free.

Like a commuter who slips into the subway car just as the doors are closing, Flaco narrowly avoided capture multiple times, until zookeepers decided that he had learned enough to hunt and eat prey to be able to adapt to his newer, bigger home.

One of the more hilarious examples of this is illustrated in a photograph on display at The New York Historical — Flaco stands defiantly in the foreground. He is in front of a small carrier that observers hoped he would simply just enter. The people in the image are obediently standing behind yellow police tape, but Flaco would not enter the cage. The museum caption gives additional context: had someone with expertise in wildlife rehab been present, they would have tossed a blanket or jacket over the owl’s head and then placed him in the enclosure.

Much to everyone’s delight, Flaco met no such fate, and his free-spirited flights became a bright spot in people’s lives. “You brought me so much joy and touched my heart,” reads one letter left at his Central Park memorial. “My sister said you were just an owl, but you’re more than that,” shared another fan.

The Year of Flaco allows us to remember Flaco and his improbable journeys around such a densely populated area. Perhaps it also encourages everyone to indulge in their own flights of fancy.

“The Year of Flaco” is on display at The New York Historical through July 6, 2025, 170 Central Park West, nyhistory.org, 212-873-3400.