El Bruin
Posted: Wednesday, May 28, 2008
by Ted Gragg
Myrtle Beach Shooting Range
The morning began calmly. I sipped my coffee and pondered
the heavy beach traffic flowing orderly along Highway 501. Nothing much in the
way of business appointments today…just a lazy warm Saturday… open the store,
visit with the customers and friends … talk about last year’s hunting season,
plans for the up-coming season… just normal everyday business… a quiet peaceful
morning….
And the radio crackled… Columbia dispatch calling first
one full-time Wildlife officer after another… no answer… then the list of
deputies… and I answered.
“Deputy Wildlife Officer Gragg" I said into the
microphone.
“Sir, state your 10-20." Came the response over the
radio.
“East of Conway on 501," I replied
“Sir, there is a report of a bear being struck by a motorist
on Highway 501 near Four Mile. Sir, are you familiar with that area?"
questioned the female voice from dispatch.
“Affirmative," was the response.
“Sir, would you head that way, investigate the call, and
report back, please." Dispatch operators were always so polite. Their dialog
always made me think of aircraft controllers and their directions to pilots.
The only thing missing from this lady’s instructions were assigned vectors and
coordinates.
“Yes, ma’am. I am en-route now." I turned the truck
around, crossed the medium, waited on the traffic to open a spot, and headed
for Four Mile, eight miles away. I suspected that someone had seen a large dog
and thought it was a bear. This was usually the case as identification of
animals seen by tourists traveling seventy miles an hour are not the most
reliable reports encountered. Shouldn’t take but a few minutes from an easy
morning to wrap this up.
Traffic was slowing down. I swung off of the road and onto
the shoulder to go around the stalled traffic. I could see a dozen people or so
standing in the ditch around something furry and black… And I heard the
incessant wailing of a police siren approaching. I pulled my truck up close and
parked to hide the scene from on-lookers in case the animal had to be put down,
shot, or “ten-sevened," as we called it. Wouldn’t do to upset anyone.
I looked… and sure enough… there was a bear lying in the
ditch… not a big bear… looked like a yearling… maybe 150 pounds or so…
“Columbia, Deputy Gragg." I spoke into the mike.
“Sir?" Came the response.
“Ma’am, we do have a bear down. It is confirmed. I
will report back after further investigation. There does not appear to be any
injured persons."
The bear was hurt, breathing but unconscious. I needed
some restraints. There was no rope in my truck, only handcuffs…but the bear had
four legs…not two hands…and besides the cuffs wouldn’t go around the critter’s
legs….and he was beginning to awaken.
A garbage truck had stopped to view the scene. And, lying
in the truck in plain sight was an old plastic shower curtain and some rope and
an old ragged fishnet. I grabbed the items and headed for the bear just as an
Horry County Police Officer rolled up in his cruiser.
“Need some help?" He asked.
“You bet!" I said as we headed for the bear.
Quickly, we threw the yellow and orange shower curtain
over the bear’s head and started to lash his paws together, hog tying the bear…
when he began to thrash. He was coming to and you could feel the power in the
animal. That’s when the officer grabbed the bear by the snout.
“Not there, don’t hold him there, He’ll bite!" I yelled
just as the officer exclaimed.
“He bit me!" and jerked his hand away. Give the man lots
of credit… bleeding hand and all, he held on. Together we wrestled in the ditch
with the bear until we had him tied, subdued, and wrapped in the old fish net
and brightly colored shower curtain. We picked him up with the aid of two other
County officers, deposited him in the back of my pickup, and started for Conway
four miles away.
Three police cars in front, blue lights on, sirens
wailing, and my truck bringing up the rear made up our small convoy. I
glanced up at the rearview mirror just in time to see the bright bundle of bear
rolling around in the bed of the pickup. He broke through the shower
curtain, shoved his head through the ripped wrapper, bit the rope in two,
lunged over the tailgate and bailed out of my truck.
Several things happened at once. I grabbed the microphone
and yelled out over the County frequency.
“He’s escaped."
All the police cars slid to a stop. The bear was running
in tight circles in the middle of the highway, hampered by a broken rear leg,
cars were jinking left and right to avoid hitting the injured animal; while I
and the other officers were trying to catch that bear and hold him. That’s when
a Yankee lady in a bright yellow Lincoln slid to a stop, rolled down her
driver’s window, and yelled at us.
“Why don’t you men leave that dog alone before you hurt
him!"
“Polite to the last, the bitten County Police Officer
started to approach the car, saying. “Ma’am, its not a dog, it’s a…" He never
got to finish the sentence.
The bear lunged into the side of her car, stood on its
hind legs, and with the bright yellow and orange shower curtain hanging around
his neck; looking for all the world like a cartoon bear, shoved his head
through the woman’s window opening, shook his head madly from side to side with
bear spittle slinging, teeth bared, and growled in her face!
She screamed, “It’s a bear!"
Poor woman. She panicked and slapped the gas
pedal with her foot as she tried to dodge the slobbering growling angry bear’s
snapping jaws that were lunging for her face. The car plunged head-on into the
roadway ditch and stuck fast, the rear tires whining and slinging
dirt.
El Bruin, well, he stuck his nose up with an air of
arrogance and turned disdainfully away from the chaos that he had created.
We tackled the bear again, trussed him up, and headed for
the game refuge on the far side of Conway.
By the time that we arrived, the bear, the County officer,
and I were all a bit calmer. We released the bear into the wild. The officer
reported to the hospital for precautionary rabies shots for the bear wounding,
and I went on to work.
The other officers and I made regular trips to check on
the bear, leaving food and corn for tribute. He survived, healed, and darted
out onto the highway a year later. This time he failed to survive.
We saved his head, though, and he is still hanging around,
on the wall at the rear of the store… a reminder of a quiet summer morning.
Hi Ted. Bravo!!! This has got to be the greatest story I have heard in a long time. My jaw dropped and I even found myself covering my mouth as if I were watcing it on TV! This is great--I am assuming it is a true story... I absoluty love the fact that he is still hanging around!!! Such morbid humor-I love it.
Wal,now, ma'am. I'm shore glad that you enjoyed this story. Thank you for your wonderful comment. Unfortunately, we had a fire last year and the bear finally lost his head.Oh No!! Now that is traggic. Sigh.
hi ted, well, that'll wake you up! we have bears come right up to our door. they are a sight to see, but once is fine! nothing like going out to a week's worth of garbage strewn all over the neighborhood! and i wish someone would tell them my birdhouses are for the birds! thanks for sharing a fun article, best regards, sue thomHi, Sue, and thanks for the comments. Interestingly, society is beginning to understand again that wild animals are feeders of opportunity; and as such, eat whatever wherever they find it. But there is nothing more exciting to watch than the antics of bear, deer, cougars, or even just squirrels and things. Have a super weekend. Ted
Well written Ted. It held me captivated till the end. Poor bear. In Switzerland we had one bear, just one. He was finally put down because the poor sheep couldn't defend themselves. Thanks for the story.Good morning, Jim. And I am glad that you enjoyed the story about Brer Bear. You should have seen what he did to one of the squad cars when the officer got out and left his door open, but that's another tale. How, pray tell, did we end up with only one bear in Switzerland? Thanks again, for the comment. TedWell, there's not much space for bears here. There used to be none, then this one was an experiment. Now there are none, again.
