Bears Then and Now

About a week ago, I ran over a bear on the highway. What was a mamma bear and two cubs doing crossing a major highway? Well, it was a total shock when my car came upon them. I slowed down and swerved, but though I missed the mamma bear, my car struck one of the cubs.

Such a pity! Later when I surveyed the damage to my car, I was not happy to see the driver side front fender hugely dented and the headlight skewed out of place. Thankfully, it still works. Worse is the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think of the baby black bear I killed. In a few seconds, a life was extinguished!

I am reminded of the big brown bear that I saw in a cage at Brown County State Park in Indiana when I was four or five. My Aunt Mickie had a souvenir stand at the park. She took me with her to peddle her wares a few times. What I recall most about those visits to the park was watching the big brown bear in the cage. It was horribly abused by tourists and children who would throw things at it and torment the poor animal. This had to have been one of the few remaining bears in the state as all the bears in Indiana had pretty much been exterminated by hunters around the turn of the 20th century, about the time Charles Major, a resident of my hometown, Shelbyville, wrote his book, Bears of Blue River.

I recently saw the newly refurbished statue of Balsar and his bear cubs on Shelbyville's town circle. He had killed their mother and so made the cubs his pets. At least I had not meant to kill a bear. In Balsar's time, late 1880s to early 1900s, bears were hunted for their fur and to eat. Hard to take that in.

I believe in totems, though I don't think that my totem is a bear. I do
have a sentimental attachment for bears, and have spent many hours on the banks of both the Little Blue and the Big Blue River in Shelbyville, though there were better rivers to fish, as the Big Blue had been polluted by a factory's dumping waste in it for decades. I did love to sit by the rivers and ponder my life. Once I went on a boating excursion to pick up trash off the river. It was pretty disgusting to see how much trash was in my rowboat and in my brother's rowboat when we finished that river trip. Below is a photo I took of the Big Blue a couple of years ago. Pretty muddy!

I am reminded of many trips my best friend since we were six, Bonnie, and I took to that river, picnicking, or just sitting on the banks talking about our lives and our dreams. Beautiful, relaxing times with someone I knew and loved best in the world. Bonnie was struck and killed by a truck two years ago, when she was crossing a highway at night. That was a big loss. She was right by my side when I snapped this photo. Bonnie, who had a tender heart, would have cried with me about the death of that baby bear.

I need to reread Bears of Blue River.There is something mystical about the bears that flow through my life. I will think on that. As in the movie, The Lion King, there is a circle of life. Someone dies, someone is born. I know there will be a new baby bear born somewhere. These thoughts I find soothing. The words of a song I sang in Girl Scouts as a child, come to me. "Peace I ask of thee, o river. Peace. Peace. Peace."