The epitaph on my headstone can be read very well: He hired animal handler Joan Embery as an ambassador for the San Diego Zoo and set her on the path to fame.
I spent 50 years in a colorful career in public relations and journalism. But my name Joan for the new zoo booth and putting her on “The Tonight Show” seems to be what people remember.
And why not? Joan’s nearly 100 appearances with Johnny Carson made her a familiar face to millions of Americans. Nestled by snakes and loved by leopards, she was a natural success in bringing the fun, excitement, and drama of the world of wild animals into viewers’ homes.
Her rise to celebrity status began with her first appearance on “The Tonight Show” in 1970 with the young elephant she had taught to paint. When the artist, Carol, hesitated to act, then turned the brush in the trunk and ran it across Johnny’s crotch, it convulsed the audience and Ed McMahon. Joan, 21, became a “regular” for the next four decades, providing millions of dollars in advertising to our then-financially distressed park.
(Little Carol subsequently painted on her poster board for the 12 million viewers that night, and she gained notoriety as our artistic elephant for years, earning tons of publicity!)
As Joan’s fame spread, she appeared on other network shows with zoo residents and did hundreds of television and radio interviews. He subsequently traveled to Africa, England, Australia, and other parts of the world, spreading wildlife conservation messages, while promoting our world-famous tourist attraction.
Truth be told, Joan became our second zoo ambassador. I was wrong to choose the first one. And, of course, there was never a need for a third party. Joan made publicity and promotion of the San Diego Zoo a career for the next 35 years, until her recent retirement.
In the late 1960s, the zoo experienced a steady decline in attendance (due in part to competition from the new SeaWorld marine park). Our Public Relations Department was tasked with devising ways to attract more visitors to our burgeoning collection of animals.
Consequently, as the head of the zoo’s publicity department since 65, I proposed selecting and training a young woman to serve as an ambassador for the zoo. After due consideration, the board of trustees and the zoo director approved a small budget for the one-year trial.
Actually, my idea came from a previous visit to our children’s zoo by a young traveling Disneyland ambassador. If it was good enough for creative genius Walt, I remember thinking, why not someone similar to us?
Several hundred girls answered our first call from a well-spoken, photogenic young woman with a love of wildlife. The chosen one would give talks, take VIPS on tours of the zoo, and make appearances at events like the city’s upcoming 200th anniversary.
Long story short, the first time I managed to pick the wrong applicant, one who was not good at handling animals, was nervous about public speaking, and did not know the city well.
At the end of his year, we returned to the drawing board. I went through our resume file and spread the word publicly again with a mild response. One day it was pointed out that a good candidate was working right under our noses at the children’s zoo: Joan Embery.
The zoo had hired 18-year-old college student Joan to work with the baby animals. So, with several years of experience under his belt in 1969, I had come to know and admire his devotion to our orphan wildlife and his work.
I swore that Joan could talk to animals and vice versa. He knew he could easily see the pout of an insulted elephant. In fact, one of her elephant friends actually stuck a foot out to trip Joan as she ran past.
Several times, the ever cheerful Miss Embery had invited me to enter an animal enclosure with her. She would offer interesting information, such as the reason most zoos only have female elephants is because bulls are too dangerous when in musth during mating season. He told me that his hormones rage to the point that they can tear concrete or even attempt to kill his caretakers.
And I remember once watching with amazement how our future “ambassador” would put her hand into the mouth of an elephant to caress a pink, wavy tongue. “It’s a greeting for them, like a handshake,” she explained as I watched, my jaw dropped. “Go ahead, try it!” she urged. But I was too cowardly, deciding that I didn’t want to be so friendly.
For the second round, I named Joan the next ambassador for the zoo. And in the years that followed, I watched with pride the way he handled himself in public and in media appearances. His true love and devotion to wildlife reached the public, giving him a fame he did not seek, while the zoo and its wildlife causes flourished.
And many Carson fans today still remember the “Tonight Show” segment when Joan let Johnny hold a small marmoset, which climbed and relieved itself on the famous presenter’s head. Johnny’s expression is captured in reruns of “The Best of Carson.”
It even got over the night we brought “Dudley Duplex,” a two-headed serpent king, to the NBC show. It slid down the sleeve of Johnny Carson’s dress shirt to hide and wouldn’t come out. Johnny kept yelling, “Get out, guys, get out now!”
Selecting the wildlife-loving teenager as an ambassador for the zoo ranks, in hindsight, as the smartest (or luckiest move I’ve ever made). Other than marrying my wife of 60 years!