The Bear and the Ham Sandwiches

My brother wanted the sandwiches as much as the bear did

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This incident occurred in 1983 outside a small town in central Mississippi. My maternal grandparents’ old two-story home was left to my brother and me in their will. It was about 30 acres of just grassland, pine trees, mosquitoes, snakes, and black bears. Especially black bears. It included that home, which was in disrepair. They had moved from that home three years before my grandmother’s death. We had to check on it about twice a year and do repairs. We had a man who called himself “BW” to check on the house once a week. It was on one weekly check that BW met more than he had planned.

BW went in the front door to check on things. He went to the back patio, checked the area, and noticed that the back door was ajar. He thought maybe he forgot to close it the last time he was there. He then went back to the living room.

Here’s where things get interesting.

The Black Bear Wakes Up From His Nap

A black bear came walking out on all fours from the bedroom and into the living room at the same time BW did. BW screamed, and the bear roared. The bear went running out the back patio door, demolishing it. BW went running to the front door. Unfortunately, he forgot to open the door and knocked it down, momentarily knocking himself out. He regained consciousness when he felt something licking his face. It was the black bear. Once again, both the human and the bear went running in opposite directions.

The next day, BW called me and told me about the encounter. He also told me he was done as the home checker.

So, my brother and I had to drive 200 miles on a Friday afternoon after work to fix both doors. While we were there, we decided to do fence repair along the 30 acres. Sometimes, trees or big limbs would knock down parts of the fence. A bad storm would do the same.

Fencing Repairs And House Repair

We would go there twice a year to repair fencing and to work on the house itself. But because of what happened, we had to go and fix things that weekend. We were both unhappy about this. We were not having any success selling the property, and agents wanted to drop the price to about 50% of its appraised value. Neither of us wanted to do that.

When we arrived at our grandparents’ house, there was a note on the door (BW graciously propped it up so no skunks would crawl inside). “I forgot to mention this black bear has a red tag. Beware of him.” I had no idea what that meant. I always thought color coding on bears meant the year they were caught and tagged. Whatever.

We walked in warily. I had my 12-gauge shotgun, my brother had his Winchester 94, and a .357 magnum in his holster. We weren’t taking any chances. We found no wildlife inside, which was a relief. We pinned the doors back as best we could until we could go somewhere and buy new doors. But first, we had to go into town to get something to eat.

Conflict Over What The Red Tag Meant

The bartender at the bar and grill warned us about bears with red tags. He said they were problem bears. I didn’t agree. But we decided it was best we take no chances. The bartender tried to get us to try their “famous ham sandwiches.” We were stuffed already. My brother, Ed, said he would come back the next day and buy some.

We slept solid that night. But got up early, ate a light breakfast, and went into a town about 10 miles west of us to buy a couple of cheap doors for the house. That took about 2 hours. So, we were running late mending fences on the property.

It was late September, and it was hot. There are two seasons in the Deep South, summer and late summer. Our winters are little to talk about most of the time. Setting up fence posts and rewiring barbed wire was not much fun in the heat.

Ed Goes To Get Those Damn Famous Ham Sandwiches

It was about 2 p.m. when my brother said he was returning to the little town to buy us some beer and those “famous ham sandwiches” the bartender talked about at the bar and grill. He left his rifle next to my shotgun and just took his .357 with him to the truck. I continued with the pole digger and started setting posts.

About 30 minutes later, I took a break, looking into the deep wooded area hoping that damn black bear stayed far away. I heard Ed walking heavily behind me. “Ed, I think we should…” and I stopped mid-sentence.

It was the black bear with the red tag that BW had warned me about. He was at least 300lbs. He was standing up on his hind legs, clawing at the air toward me. I almost pissed on myself. The bear didn’t seem belligerent. It was almost like he was giving me sign language as he moved his paws. My shotgun and my brother’s rifle were lying against the partially torn-down fence. It was at least 10 feet away. I know how fast and quick bears are. He would have been on me in an instant.

The Black Bear Wouldn’t Let Me Near The Shotgun

I took a move toward the shotgun, and the black bear’s demeanor changed immediately. He growled, and that teddy bear face disappeared quickly. I noticed the red tag and immediately thought about the bartender saying this was a problem bear. The black bear kept up with the pawing of the air as if he was trying to tell me something, when I heard Ed coming back. He’s eating one of the ham sandwiches and digging into the bag to get me one.

“Damn, David, (chomp, chomp, chomp) that guy was right (chomp, smack, chomp). These damn ham sandwiches are great man. I wish…” And Ed now finally saw the 400lb (as you may have noticed, the longer this story goes, the bigger this damn bear gets) black bear. He turned white as a ghost. “David! Get the shotgun! I’ll shoot him with my .357!” Ed quietly said. “Ed, you won’t kill that bear with that .357. I won’t make it to the shotgun. Let’s just back…” and the black bear starts huffing and pawing furiously at the air.

He could smell those damn “famous ham sandwiches.” “Ed, he wants the damn sandwiches! Give them to him before we become a pair of ham sandwiches ourselves!” I pleaded with him. Ed hesitated. So, what does Ed do? He throws him ONE ham sandwich. The black bear caught it in mid-air and swallowed it faster than either of us could run. He still smelled those sandwiches in the bag that my brother didn’t want to give up.

The black bear was getting impatient. For the first time, he took a couple of steps toward us. He got back on his hind legs again. He wanted those damn ham sandwiches or he was going to make him some human ham sandwiches. “Ed, throw him the whole damn bag! For the love of Christ, we can get some more ham sandwiches! Throw him the bag! I’ll buy you a whole damn pig if you want. Give the (now) 500lb black bear the ham sandwiches!!!” I quietly growled at him.

Ed Finally Comes To His Senses

Ed threw the whole damn bag at him. He went through those sandwiches in about 30 seconds. Ed said he had four more thick sandwiches in the bag. That gave me enough time to throw the rifle to my brother, and I got my shotgun. I didn’t want to shoot the bear. But if it were him or us, it would be the bear.

The black bear wanted more, just as I feared. I noticed he got down on all fours and started huffing. I knew enough about bears that he was about to charge. This made me think this wasn’t the bear that BW found in our grandparents’ home. But he did have a red tag on his left ear. Most black bears are shy and run away unless it’s a sow with cubs. Then you are in trouble. Just as we were presently.

Then Ed finally did the one thing to defuse the whole thing. He took his handgun and fired it in the air. The black bear took off into the woods, never to be seen again. At least, not by us. We went back into town to alert authorities about what had happened. There was a school bus stop not far from my grandparents’ house. I was concerned about that. So, we notified the game and wildlife authorities.

We Laughed About This Story For Many Years

Ed got another bag of “famous ham sandwiches,” and we laughed about the whole thing that night and the next day as well. It was a story my brother and I never got tired of telling. He died in 2020 of a heart attack. The night of his heart attack, we were texting each other about that day. He sent emojis and emojis of laughter. The next morning, my brother was in the hospital, where he died three weeks later,

As for the black bear, I found out that authorities had to put down that black bear. He had been coming too close to homes and schoolchildren in the vicinity. We also found out it was the same bear that BW had encountered (I’m not sure how they would know that). A game warden told me that black bears or any predators that are fed by people usually have to be euthanized because they pose a danger. I suppose a case could be made against us for giving that bear the “famous ham sandwiches.” But, as the game warden told me, it was either give the bear the ham sandwiches or shoot him. My brother and I chose to give the black bear another chance at life.

Unfortunately, it just didn’t work out the way we wanted. Never, never feed wildlife, especially predators. It’s a death sentence for the animal. Admire them, watch them from a distance. But don’t feed wildlife.

And we finally sold our grandparents’ property at 50% of its appraised value. We didn’t want that either. (Originally published on Medium on 07/19/2024)