On Wednesday, Feb. 28 students and faculty were greeted by an email from Environmental Health and Safety Director Patrick Gagnon informing everyone that a bear had been seen near the golf course in the vicinity of the townhouses.
Like all of you, I was quite surprised to be greeted by such an email on my exceedingly normal Wednesday, and thought the video of one of our beloved squirrels being dragged off a townhouse stoop by a weasel was going to be the most exciting animal-related incident of the semester.
But no, someone had to just bear-ge in and take the cake.
This incident, however, did get me thinking, have there been bears on campus before? So, I began to dive through old news archives to see if any reports of a bear roaming around campus could be found. Very disappointingly, I found nothing… at least, nothing about campus.
So, in the spirit of our new furry friends roaming the woods around campus, I thought it would be a good time to tell the story of Stanard Butler and the Bruin of Kildare Pond. If you leave campus and drive south, through Colton, then South Colton, you’ll drive by the town of Stark. Let me rephrase that, you’ll drive by a patch of woods littered with a few old homes that at some point someone long ago labeled “Stark.”
According to the Courier and Freedman, an old newspaper that used to service the county, it was here that in late July 1892, our story takes place. In the weeks prior, a large bear had been spotted in the area around Stark, specifically Kildare Pond.
One Stanard Butler (epic name), was walking through the woods near Kildare Pond when among the trees when, “He suddenly came face to face with the distinguished visitor.” Mr. Butler was armed with a double barrel shotgun loaded with buck shot. Not the best weapon to bring to a bear fight.
However, Mr. Butler was a Normal, and “Normals are proverbially courageous, so the intrepid hunter at once commenced hostilities.” In typical comic book fashion, just before our hero is mauled to death, another local, Adam Garlow, happened upon the scene and shot the “bruin” in the head with his Winchester repeater. The bruin went down, and to be sure, Adam sent two more bullets through the beast’s head. However, these two shots had the opposite intended effect, “For bruin at once scrambled to his feet and started off through the woods.”
The next day a party of hunters combed the woods, but no bear was found.
“All who have seen this bear pronounces him one of the largest they had ever saw and the glory of capturing his is still to be gained.”
So, next time you’re ripping a piss behind the townhouses on a Saturday night, just remember out there in the dark roams a massive magical black bear with a half blown off face who eats bullets like corn puffs.
Back on the topic of the townhouses, I still can’t get over the brutal death of our bushy-tailed friend, the squirrel. Speaking of which, apparently Features used to be the place to go to ask any old random, burning questions a student might have (I guess Featured Editors are just naturally wise and intelligent). Anyway, one anonymous student inquired about the nature of squirrels, quite literally, in our March 8, 2002, edition.
“Since when have squirrels become wild animals? I mean, granted, they live outside, but they’re kittens in comparison to some of the other possible creatures that you could get stuck in your room.”
This anonymous writer (I would be too) continued this train of thought, “can you even begin to imagine if you got something a little more substantial caught in your doom room such as a raccoon, deer, or, heaven forbid, a moose? (I’m not even going to entertain the difficulties of testing this hypothesis, considering that I live on the third floor of Dean Eaton and the dynamics of it are simply mindboggling. I distress).” They were left wondering; would security really deal with such a situation?
It’s fascinating to see a thought I am 100 percent sure we have all had being echoed through time. I could scarcely give a better response than Features Editor at the time, Jess Baker.
“My only consolation is that if you get attacked by a squirrel flying from one of the many garbage cans around campus, at least you know who to call. Though if it’s a moose, don’t come looking for me. I still can’t figure out how to get it up the stairs.”
Completely unrelated, the Molecule of the Week for that week was nicotine, which goes to show just how little things have changed in twenty-two years. Hell, I’m chewin’ on a Zyn and smoking a Marlboro while writing this at 7:18 p.m..
Life is great folks, so be thankful you’re not being attacked by bears or flying squirrels. Peace out, and I’m headed to the store to buy more mint Zyn’s, and a box of buckshot in case that bear ever shows up for round two.