The great coyote hunt

Part I: 'Canis latrans' and the Rezko property

07/01/2009 10:00 PM

By DAN KELLY
Contributing Reporter

15 Comments - Add Your Comment


Dan Kelly
Photos by JENNIFER WOLFE/Contributor

The Diarist

Coyotes in the backyard don’t mean wolves at the door. Donald Jaburek learned this when he moved into his ziggurat-shaped condominium at 15th and Clark four years ago, and discovered several of his next-door neighbors were furry, four-legged and pointy of ear. His human neighbors told him about the population of coyotes living in the empty lot across the street. They’ve interested him ever since. He catches a glimpse of them every now and then.

“You know they’re there, but you can’t see them all the time,” he said. “They’re sort of mysterious. They’re nocturnal for the most part. Between the trees and the bush and prairie plants over there, it’s hard to spot them.”

Crisscrossed by railroad tracks, and bordered by the Chicago River, Roosevelt Road, 18th Street and a concrete wall running along Clark Street, the lot to the west of Jaburek sprawls across 62 overgrown acres. The land has its own stories. Trainspotters will appreciate its history as a railroad crossing — tracks from the long-gone Rock Island; Illinois Central; Gulf, Mobile and Ohio, and Baltimore and Ohio Railroad lines run through here, now ridden by Metra and Canadian National freight and passenger trains. An old-timey postcard of the area shows an impressive collection of tracks, bridges, and more grey than green, though the 16th Street watchtower and nearby B&OCT and St. Charles Air Line bascule bridges are the only remnants of far busier times. The main train action these days happens at rush hour. For the South Loop, it’s a fairly wild piece of real estate, and despite attempts to civilize it with crushed gravel, wood chips and construction waste, nature has slowly reclaimed the area.

More recently, the parcel of land was connected with no less colorful a personage than Mr. Antoin “Tony” Rezko. The July 31, 2003 issue of the Tribune carried chatter from Rezko’s Rezmar Corporation about building Riverside Park there, a “5,000-unit resident and retail development” with a “50-story tower” in addition to “restaurants and cabarets.” Rezmar was reportedly in advanced negotiations with Ikea to build a store and sell funny-named furnishings to Near South Side residents there. Interestingly, Rezmar claimed Riverside Park would be pro-environment. The company’s president Daniel Mahru promised “all green roofs and lots of open space” and “gently sloping river banks, nature trails, and bicycle paths,” the latter of which are currently present, if roughly hewn, by actual Nature. Bad news for Rezmar: Ikea pulled out, choosing instead to open their new location in Bolingbrook.


Called by some locals the Rezko property, the empty 62-acre site at the southwest corner of Clark and Roosevelt is fairly wild for the South Loop.

In September 2005, Rezko sold the property to British-based and insanely rich financier Nadhmi Auchi’s General Mediterranean Holdings (GMH) company for an estimated $130.5 million. In January 2006, per Donald Jaburek, some tree cutting and bulldozing was performed on the land. Then, according to a February 12, 2008 article posted on Newsmax.com, Auchi and GMH began touting Riverside Park once more, claiming it could be constructed in eight years. Two weeks later, the Sun-Times reported that Auchi had been named by the prosecution in Rezko’s corruption case. Auchi wasn’t accused of anything, but had had a fraud conviction against him in France that should have prevented him from entering the U.S. when he made the original deal. As it turns out, Rezko had appealed to the State Department and “certain Illinois government officials” to allow Auchi to visit the U.S., causing yet another snag. Today, land is managed by an LLC named Moni Equities, which happens to share an address in London with GMH. Riverside Park appears to be on hold, though the architectural model remains on view at the GMH Web site, like a shiny little Flying Dutchman.

All of which means less than nothing to the coyotes, who have made their presence increasingly known as the lot heeds the call of the wild.

Jaburek has seen coyotes of all ages prowling, prancing and playing in the field, chasing down rabbits and other prey, tossing around an old shoe, or simply ambling up and down the tracks and bridges. Mostly he hears rather than sees them. One particular thing sets the entire pack to singing. “Always at night, when the ambulances go down Clark with the sirens going, the coyotes howl in response.”

While it might seem odd to have a large predator living in an urban environment, Dr. Lawrence Heaney, curator and head of the mammals division at the Field Museum, isn’t surprised coyotes exist in the South Loop.

“Roughly 10 years ago, coyotes began moving from the distant suburbs — where’s there’s a lot of forest land and farmland mixed in with houses — and into the suburban areas,” Heaney said. “I think it was about five years ago they made their way into downtown Chicago.”

How you pronounce coyote — whether Ki-YOAT, Ki-YO-TEE or, if you’re feeling pretentious, the more flavorfully Spanish Ki-YO-TAY — is up to you, but their scientific name is Canis latrans, Latin for “barking dog.”

A ubiquitous creature, the coyote not only physically turns up from coast to coast, but also in Native American and modern cultures. Among tribes like the Nez Perce, Shoshone, and Crow (among others) Coyote is an earthy, anthropomorphic demigod, capable of sublimities like creating the human race and the stars, and nastier, prankish behavior. Just as often he’s an oaf, layabout, or cuckold, tricking himself into losing his penis or hearing the sounds of interspecies romance while his coyote wife is happily serviced by his rival, Old Beaver. In contemporary America, we have our own immortal yet oafish Canis latrans, Wile E. Coyote: eternally hungry for roadrunner flesh, and willing to subject himself to the body-scarring horrors of ACME brand jet skates, super magnets and tornado pills to get it. Less charmingly, coyote has entered the vernacular as a term for smugglers of illegal immigrants, while coyote ugly refers to a woman so hideous, you’d chew off your own arm to escape her. Clearly, the coyotes should fire their PR department, because, by and large, they’re admirable critters.

As urban interlopers, Heaney notes that coyotes are well-suited to city life. They’re the long-term houseguests you almost never see.

“They can be very fast, they’re very agile, and they’re very, very smart.” Heaney said, emphasizing that last point. “The coyotes are really smart, and are very, very adaptable.”

Before you panic and wonder when they’ll grow opposable thumbs and seize control of city hall, know that coyotes are more friend than foe.

“They need to have a higher percentage of meat in their diet than humans do, to maintain good health. But given that, they’re pretty opportunistic,” according to Heaney. “They undoubtedly, in these urban areas, eat a lot of rats, and that’s obviously a very positive thing. They certainly would be eating some of the cottontail rabbits, which have also increased fairly substantially in the last five to 10 years.”

Humans generally don’t see the coyotes because they’re more active between dusk and dawn, keeping a low profile to hunt food, raise their young and walk the city’s paths and alleys unmolested. Adrian the Quizno’s coyote two years back was the most media-saturated of the three coyotes who wandered into town that year. The furry urbanites, according to Heaney, have turned up everywhere: along the lakefront; in Evanston cemeteries; on Navy Pier, McCormick Place, and the Field Museum’s grounds; up and down the river; along railroad tracks; beside the sanitary canals; and strutting through the long stretches of green running through and around town. Coyotes cover much ground, their turf measuring anywhere from 20 to 30 miles in diameter.

Despite a beneficial relationship based on mutually letting each other alone, some humans carelessly muck it up. Leaving out pet food, not covering garbage cans, and tossing snacks to the coyote as if he’s your neighbor’s golden retriever Rusty/Buddy/Brandy rather than a wild beastie serves to eradicate the thin green line between us and them. Familiarity breeds more familiarity, and the coyotes lose their fear of humans. Your kindliness might also be repaid through the sudden absence of any feline friends allowed outside. As a plump, pampered pet, Mr. Mittens makes for a sweet and meaty coyote snack. Keep him inside no matter how much he howls.

“They will very happily eat people’s house cats,” Heaney warned. “They really like cats.”

Well-fed on facts and figures from Dr. Heaney, it was time for me to follow my editor’s original edict to see if Riverside Park had become a coyote condo. Some coyote trivia gave me pause. Did I really want to be around a sharp-toothed critter that can hunt in packs, run 45 miles per hour, and leap four meters? I drew comfort from learning that only 16 coyote attacks on humans were reported in the last 30 years in North America, with one tragic toddler fatality.

I liked those odds and chose to leave before dawn on May 23.

Next week, in Part II of the great coyote hunt, Dan Kelly ventures into Riverside Park to see if he can track down an urban coyote face to face.


15 Comments - Add Your Comment



By Anonymous from Albany Park
Posted: 07/30/2009 5:35 PM

For "habitat" you forgot 'in the cooler at Quizno's'... ;)


By coyote man from south loop
Posted: 07/12/2009 5:55 PM

Thanks for the great coyote coverage, although I admit I'm a bit coyote'd out. Never actually saw one in the SL, so don't know what I'd do if I did. Oh well.


By katedanaher
Posted: 07/10/2009 7:49 PM

Learn more about mitigating human/coyote conflicts at http://www.ProjectCoyote.org. Project Coyote promotes educated coexistence between people and coyotes by championing progressive management policies and fostering respect for and understanding of America's native wild "song dog." We believe that coyotes are a vital component of our rural and urban communities, deserving of respect for their adaptability, resilience, and intelligence.


By Margaret Frisbie from Chicago River
Posted: 07/10/2009 10:55 AM

Thanks for part 1 and part 2 of the coyote story. Much of the 62 acre site under discussion is also the old river bed that Friends of the Chicago River calls the South Branch Meander Site because the river used curve through there. You can see its footprint if you look down from a loop highrise. Wildlife along the river is more common than you think and in addition to coyotes we have 60 species of birds, 70 species of fish, beavers, muskrats, minks, and the occasional river otter.


By Brian from South Loop
Posted: 07/09/2009 2:55 PM

My dog got mange in the vacant lot on the corner of Harrison and Wells when he was a puppy. Vet said it was most likely from coyotes... or a homeless person. Just saying.


By TC from cisneros
Posted: 07/07/2009 9:06 AM

I don't usually bother commenting on the quality of writing, but I was also put off by the tone of this. Trying way too hard, but fine for a blog post.


By katedanaher
Posted: 07/06/2009 5:24 PM

Watch film trailer for “American Coyote— Still Wild at Heart” at www.projectcoyote.org/index.html Learn about mitigating human/coyote conflicts at www.ProjectCoyote.org. Project Coyote promotes educated coexistence between people and coyotes by championing progressive management policies and fostering respect for and understanding of America's native wild "song dog."


By Gilmoure from New Mexico
Posted: 07/02/2009 8:22 PM

Living 20 miles north-east of Albuquerque, we had coyotes running through our front yard (at end of 40 acres old farm land). Now that our dogs have made themselves known (70 lb and 80 lb ranch dogs), the bad boys, as we call them, stay around 100 yards out. One of our dogs got out of our yard and was following the scent of a coyote, about 50' in front of her. Silly dog didn't look up as coyote went around a juniper bush opposite dog, leading her on and then confusing her, before heading.


By Dan Kelly
Posted: 07/02/2009 4:56 PM

I would like to apologize for my tin ear. It's a childhood condition. Ear drops, Q-tips, and candling are all useless in its treatment. I am forced to wear ear muffs in public, albeit with a single muff. As yet, there is no cure. I encourage you all to donate generously to the Special International American Shriners March of Writers with Tin Ears Association. Together we can beat this thing.


By L Osbourne from Evanston
Posted: 07/02/2009 4:41 PM

I am a fan of coyotes, and thoroughly enjoyed this article. I disagree with the earlier comment about the writing. I like the occasional quirky phrasing--it injects a little whimsy and fun. Sure, the author could have written, "pointy-eared" instead of "pointy of ear"--if the writer wanted to be BORING! Looking forward to Part Deux.


By Anonymous from Lincoln Park
Posted: 07/02/2009 3:08 PM

Very much enjoyed this story, it is heartening to know the wild things are making a stand and making a living right here in the heart of the city. The image of the coyotes howling back at the ambulance was lovely. For the record, I like the writing.


By Micah Maidenberg from Chicago Journal Editor
Posted: 07/02/2009 1:59 PM

Katie, Thanks for the link to the terrific photographs. I had no idea coyotes were running around Ravenswood. It makes sense they'd camp out in Rosehill though ...


By Katie Scully from Lincoln Square
Posted: 07/02/2009 1:47 PM

I managed to catch them on camera every so often -- here's one who hangs out in Ravenswood: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kscully/3652036304/


By Mikey from Ravenswood
Posted: 07/02/2009 1:30 PM

Interesting piece. Big fan of coyotes and look forward to Part II!


By A Sanford
Posted: 07/02/2009 10:58 AM

Who writes like this? It is awful. "Pointy of ear"? "A shiny little Flying Dutchman"? The writer has a tin ear, and carnival talent.