You know when there is a family story that a relative likes so much that you can just feel when it’s coming on? That is the case with the Urban Bear personal narrative, in which my dad and I witness a full-sized black bear running through downtown Gatlinburg, Tennessee. My dad and I have both told the story many times, but there is one time in particular sticks out to me. It serves to illustrate how my family thinks in a very different way than my mother’s family does and gives some insight into my own personal behavior.
Context
Much of my father’s family is gone so we almost always spend holidays with my mom’s family. Put simply, her parents and four sisters are all crazy. They all have a particularly irritating trait in which they feel that they must always one-up the people they are conversing with. About 10 years ago, for some reason, bears came up while we were around the Christmas tree on the evening of Christmas Eve. I think my mom had mentioned that we had seen them in crossing the road in the Great Smokey Mountain National Park the previous week, and then suddenly my Aunt Dorothy bursts in and to tell some silly story about petting bears in Canada on one of her excursions. Of course, it doesn’t take a miraculous sixth sense to figure out what story is coming next. My father, with a smirk, begins:
Last month the whole family went on a weekend trip to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. We hit some spots in town during the day, but in the evening Ryan (my little brother) had started to not feel well. So, Laura (my mother) and Ryan went back to the hotel and Eric and I decided to do a bit of exploring. There is hardly a destination where we don’t have a little bit of adventure. We thought we hit the jackpot when we found a real old style baseball arcade game. We goofed around with that for awhile, and then went back out into the street. This is the main stretch of town and we were getting a taste of Gatlinburg. Then we started hearing screaming. There were a group of old ladies on a second-floor balcony screaming and pointing. We thought they were yelling “Beer! Do you wanna beer?” We thought those old ladies were nuts and kept on walking. An instant later we realized what they were actually trying to tell us. They were yelling “BEAR!” And, there it was, coming right at us.
For an instant we were dumbfounded, but then I grabbed Eric and we got under the streetlight so we could see where we were going if we had to run. My plan, if it were to chase us, was to run into the nearby restaurant. At least in there we wouldn’t be the only food it might want. But, the bear turned away after a bus nearly hit it. Then it was in a motel parking lot scaring the tenants. They were running into rooms, into the pool, and on top of their cars. And then the bear narrowly misses another large bus before running off.
A moment later a park ranger was driving by. We flagged him down and frantically told what had happened and which way the bear had gone. He looked at us for only an instant and then said “We’ve got a lot of ‘em around here,” and drove off. We could not have been more shocked.
The next morning, as we were leaving our hotel, we were telling the story to Ryan and Laura. As we were speaking we passed a homeless man that was sitting on the side of the road. He overheard us discussing the bear and said “Those black bears, we got a lot of ‘em around here,” and then walked off. At that moment, we were too shocked to laugh.
Function
The most appropriate function I can identify would be to escape from repressions imposed by society. While not as clear as a Robin Hood tale, I think it displays an experience with an endangered feature of culture that is harder and harder to locate in the current American social status. That is man’s relationship with nature. Sure, anyone can have a day at the zoo and claim to have seen the bears. However, I can say from experience that they have never SEEN a bear until the 300 pound animal is having its daily snack search within a stone’s throw. And how many people can actually claim to have seen such a thing? I lived deep in the Great Smokey Mountains of North Carolina for six years, but it took a freak event like that one to get that close. We found cows in a yard once, but never any bears.
The personal narrative provides my dad and me with some unique cultural capital. Without spending thousands of dollars and flying to the Louvre we were able to witness something truly amazing. For a few moments, we were in the middle of old mountain folklore. We literally faced a beast and lived to tell of it. Because society has moved so far from nature, we are in a dwindling minority.
Meaning
For my dad, he had exactly one meaning in mind when he told this story that day. Through this story he found a rare shot to give an indirect “Up yours” to one of the most annoying people we know. I’m sure he was salivating at the opportunity too.
I have tried to make the most of one of the best stories that I have. My father’s family has lost several members already, and I’d rather not claim most of my mother’s family, leaving me with fewer sources for family folklore. Also, I haven’t yet had the opportunity to fly to Europe or even the west coast of the United States. Many of contemporaries have and now have great stories to tell about it. While I do wish I could make similar trips, I take comfort in the fact that I found a great story and I only had to travel an hour and a half and paid no admission fee.
Esoteric and Exoteric Factors
An esoteric factor that I could point out is the way in which my dad and I compose ourselves in new or unfamiliar places. When we have the opportunity to explore a new place, we go at it head on. We do this separately, but when we are together we tend to pressure ourselves into going the extra mile. This has gotten us into a sticky situation more than once, but more often than not it works out well and we get a good story out of it. I think there two ways that this behavior can be viewed. I think that others, including my mother, see this as a waste of time and energy. She doesn’t see any reason to go into new territory without a map and a travel guide. Also, someone always brings up the argument that we are two males and are just too hardheaded when together to do things the easy way.
However, I see it more as a frontier spirit that we take into every new location. There are few places that you can’t find a map for these days, so you have to make your own adventure out of every stroll through the park or visit to a new city. There are so few original experiences to be had in day to day working life; I don’t understand why more people chose to run their vacations like a board meeting.
My dad could give a pretty long and colorful list of exoteric factors when it comes to my grandparents and aunts. In addition to what we may believe about them, other exoteric factors lie in what we think other groups think about them. And, in a telling fact, outside of the immediate family I don’t think anyone knows my grandparents well enough to forward an opinion. If there is a phone call to their home it is either one of their daughters of their beloved credit union. No one comes over, no one says hi. As far as what my aunts think of my grandparents, one word comes to mind; reverence. They bow down to their word as if it was bellowed from the burning bush itself. Why this occurs is beyond me, but they appear to be the most trusted parents of all time.
This fact, coupled with my grandparents favoritism leaning toward the younger daughters (my mother is the oldest, lucky me) leads to Dorothy being the blabbermouth that she is. She has gone on trips all over the world on a house sitter’s pay? I don’t think so. We can thank granddad for all of these stories that we have to hear every time we are over for the holidays. If she wasn’t the family favorite someone would have told her to shut up by now. But she is and they haven’t. I don’t think she’ll try to bring bears up again though.
Conclusion
There are few ways to get people’s attention that is better than introducing an interstitial concept.
Bears belong in the forest, lumbering along picking bearing and roaring at squirrels. That is where Mr. Bear should be, but that isn’t where we found him. This bear wanted a taste of the city life, and the locals seemed content to let him or her have it. Not only is there a bear in town, but the authorities aren’t concerned? Now the story has them leaning in because they just have to know what happens to Mr. Bear and the brave souls who dared to face him. And I am glad to tell them this story. It isn’t a story of accomplishment, but instead of a unique encounter with a fellow and furry American who doesn’t hold the status that he did in times gone by. Some can say they have shaken hands with American Presidents, but I am not impressed with their tale of interspecies greetings. I’ve been a few picnic baskets away from a bear, and the ranger didn’t seem intent on returning it to the cave.
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