August 31st, 1914—that is today.
I came to tell our story.
Since I am the only one left.

Once the most abundant in the world.
A Canadian man once said, “It took 14 hours for a flock of us to pass.”
Skilled in flight and maneuverability—we ruled the North American skies.
But everything good comes to an end…

Over the next hundred years, more and more people settled in the North.
And with them came gluttony, guns, and greed.
One by one, my brothers and sisters were silently severed from the sky...
Our flocks went from miles wide… to yards... to feet.
From the hunters to the hunted.

Centuries ago we lived as religious symbols among the Ho-Chunk, Seneca, and Huron tribes.
Later we reduced to cheap meat for the North American slaves.
Our iridescent green and violet feathers plucked along side with our jet black body feathers.
Roasted, baked, and then devoured, we were no one’s religious symbol.
My name is Martha, and I live in the Cincinnati Zoo.
Out of the once billions of passenger pigeons…
I am the only one left.*

*On September 1st, 1914, our dear Martha passed away. She was the last survivor of her kind.