‘Elephant Man’ from S.A. Zoo a COVID victim
In 1951, Raymond Figueroa was a strapping 17year-old looking for a job at a San Antonio lumber yard, but it wasn’t hiring.
Someone suggested he try the zoo.
By 1 p.m. that day, the athletic teenager hadlanded a job in maintenance at the San Antonio Zoo.
He would go on to become chief trainer and supervisor of mammals and a belovedfixture knownto generations of visitors as the Elephant Man.
Figueroa, who retired in 1998, died Saturday at 86. Friends say he succumbed to COVID-19 after a stay at a rehabilitation center following hip surgery.
Jeff Perry, a longtime birdkeeper at the zoo, said he and other colleagues were drawn to Figueroa because of his dynamic personality, kindness toward all people and mastery of many disparate tasks at the zoo.
“In the days of physical restraint, he knew how to lasso and corner animals,” Perry said, “but then he could do pest control, whether it was with bait or a .22 rifle.
“Once, I was trying to feed fish to the shoebill storks, and guess what? Raymond turns out to be the expert on casting netting to catch their fish,” Perry recalled. “He was amazing.”
Anita Vincent, a coworker who retired after 40 years at the zoo, said she was a slightly overwhelmed city girl from Montreal when Figueroa spotted her raking animal waste in one of the enclosures.
“He jumped in the pen and said, ‘Pretend you’re dancing with the rake. It’s a waltz. Do it smoothly.’ He had this athletic prowess and natural instinct with animals that I had never seen before,” Vincent said. “There was not a situation he could not conquer. He was my mentor and taught me everything.”
Even on the zoo’s slowpitch softball team, which played on summer evenings, Figueroa cut an impressive figure. Perry, a ballplayer himself, recalled wondering if hewas good enough to make the team.
Generations of zoo visitors might remember Figueroa as the elephant
handler who helped people onto their saddles and led them around the exhibit space when animal rides still were accepted practice.
“He had this booming baritone voice,” Perry recalled, “andhe’dsay, ‘Climb on up. No one is too young, too old or too fat,’ and everyone would laugh.”
Vincent recalled with a chuckle that Figueroa “got away with so much that you couldn’t do today. Someone would be taking a photo of their family member on an elephant, and he’d say, ‘I hope you can tell which one is the elephant.’ He always joked with everyone.”
His friends say Figueroa adapted easily to the modernization of zoos and a greater awareness of ethical treatment of animals.
In 2015, the Animal Legal Defense Fund filed a federal lawsuit against the zoo, alleging its only elephant, a female Asian named Lucky,
was being harmed physically and psychologically by her isolation and captivity.
The plaintiffs dropped the suit after the zoo adopted two more elephants and expanded their habitat to include a bigger pool and yard and more foliage.
“Raymond was very practical and probably didn’t approach the issue in terms of moral ethics,” Perry said. “He had total respect for all the animals and treated them accordingly,
but I doubt he thought about it on a philosophical or intellectual level.”
Figueroa realized various practices at the zoo had become antiquated, Vincent said.
“Hewas all for the changes,” she said. “He knew that many of the animals that came to us had come from the circus and that many had been mishandled or brutalized to perform. He used an ankus” — an elephant goad that resembles a short-handled boat hook — “but it was all for positive reinforcement and he never used it harshly.”
In 2016, Figueroa returned to the zoo for a surprise reunion with Keith Hodges, a former zookeeper who had been diagnosed with lung cancer, and their beloved pachyderm, Lucky, who then was 56.
The two former co-workers hugged and kidded each other, and Lucky lumbered over as if to say, “We don’t forget,” and nudged them gently with her giant head.
Figueroa is survived by his wife of 36 years, Sheila; brothers Robert and Gilbert; sisters Mary Rose, Diana, Elizabeth and Denise; and five children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
The family asked that in lieu of flowers, contributions be made in his name to First Presbyterian Church of San Antonio, the San Antonio Zoo or other charities.