From time to time, we hear about bear sightings in Portland’s Forest Park—but bears in Montavilla? That is what the Oregon Journal of October 9, 1920 reported. The story was based on the recollections of an unnamed man who had lived in what is now Montavilla since 1860. That is 29 years before the earliest Mount Tabor Villa lots went on the market, and the birth of the neighborhood officially began.
“The old-timer” —as the Journal reporter said—had lived in a log cabin that he built himself. Pointing to the intersection of Glisan and 80th, he said a bear family once lived in that wooded area.
He enjoyed watching the bears playing in the early morning. But sometimes, he would return home to find it ransacked by the bears.
It is hard to prove, but it is at least possible.
Records show that this general area was part of the black bears’ range. And, certainly, it was once heavily forested—the black bear’s preferred habitat. Written documentation of black bears in this general area goes back to the journals of the Lewis and Clark expedition. An April 2, 1806 journal entry mentions four of the expedition’s men killing an elk, some deer, and a black bear near the mouth of the Sandy River.
With a cursory search of Portland newspapers, I found numerous articles mentioning local sightings of black bears from 1869 to the present.
So, there is no doubt that we live in what was once black bear territory, now pushed back to the periphery of our cities and beyond. And even 160 years ago, they were already a rare sight.
Forests are the black bear’s preferred habitat. The old timer spoke of firs so tall and plentiful that it was almost a year before he knew about Mount Tabor and Rocky Butte. Maybe an exaggeration, but trees—including firs—were native to this area.
The Big Burn of 1846, spreading from Mount Scott almost to the Columbia River, destroyed much of the pre-existing thick forest. But did this fire burn trees in the area around today’s Glisan and 80th? That’s hard to say.
But fir—as well as hemlock and maple trees—still existed in this general area, as the Oregon General Land Office’s 1854 map shows.
Another account indicating forests in the general Montavilla area is found in Wilber Kerns Newell’s 1934 memoir. Writing of the “big wind” of January 9, 1880, he noted that so many trees were knocked down that he and his young friends could walk from Base Line Road (now Stark) all the way to Rocky Butte “without once stepping off fallen tree trunks.”
Why did the Oregon Journal run a five-paragraph story about a man’s recollections about bears in Montavilla? Were readers really that interested in bears? Judging by the stories about bears that span decades, they were.
Most coverage focused on black bears (Ursus americanus), although grizzlies (Ursus arctos horribilis) were also mentioned. Black bears—the ones still living near cities—were more populous. The grizzly population had dwindled to the point that in 1937 the last survivor was killed in Wallowa County.
Although the Ursus americanus is commonly referred to as the black bear, these bears also come in varying shades of brown. Sometimes, however, brown bears are described as if they are separate species. It was the black ones that sometimes wandered into Portland and other Oregon towns and cities.
The dangerous side of black bears was also a regular news feature, including ferocious mauling of humans and attacks on livestock.
Besides sightings, newspapers reported hunts for both sport and bear control. They identified bears ransacking fruit orchards and attacking sheep.
A particularly detailed story about an urban bear hunt ran in the Oregonian of September 8, 1962. A young bear was sighted near Reed College and was tracked by 20 policemen, a Humane Society officer, and neighbors. They chased the bear through the neighborhood but were unable to capture the bear alive. A police officer shot him when he stopped to drink from a backyard pond.
Given the keen public interest in the wild bear-urban interface, Portland newspapers also reported sightings and killings in other Oregon cities and other locations throughout the U.S.
Public interest in bears was not limited to wild bears. Newspapers also ran stories about performing bears—including boxing matches between declawed bears and strong men.
And then there was a stuffed black bear displayed on the ground floor of Portland’s City Hall. By 1909, this moth-eaten specimen was offered to any taker.
The dangerous side of black bears was also a regular news feature, including reports of ferocious maulings of humans and attacks on livestock. A newspaper article described how a man named Giuseppe was clawed by the bear he kept in a makeshift pit in Marquam Gulch.
Given the size, strength, and ferocity of the black bear, it is shocking to read that bears once performed on the streets of Portland. The Oregon Journal of June 6 and 7, 1923 reported on the performances of organ-grinder Cesare Zenzold and his dancing bear.
Given the known ferocity of bears, newspapers also highlighted the adorable antics of bears in the Washington Park zoo and applauded Little Teddy, the black bear at the Jantzen Beach amusement park in the 1930s.
The Oregon press sometimes portrayed bears as cute and friendly characters in song, story, and verse. Both the Oregonian and the Oregon Journal ran illustrated children’s stories in the early 20th century that featured playful bears.
The friendly bear image persisted for many decades in stories, toys, and songs. Some of you may remember “The Teddy Bear’s Picnic,” with music composed in 1907 and lyrics added in 1932.
And the teddy bear—that popular toy—goes back to 1902. The original was inspired by news reports that President Theodore Roosevelt went on a hunting trip and failed to bag a bear. But when his assistants caught and restrained a bear, “Teddy” refused to shoot it. That would have been unsporting.
Two clever stuffed-animal makers honored Roosevelt by creating a Teddy’s Bear line. It went viral in 1902. Soon, the Ideal Toy Company mass-produced teddy bears.
Was the old-timer’s story about the Montavilla bear family true? I do not know. But given the public’s fascination with bears—both ferocious and cute—I can understand why the Oregon Journal’s editors wanted to publish the story.
Perhaps bear-related stories speak of a nostalgia for the wilds replaced by buildings and streets, as the Montavilla old-timer implied.
Now, if you like, watch the video below and imagine you are that Montavilla man of old watching the bear family at the corner of Glisan and 80th: youtube.com/watch?v=uhZZT-WjAM8
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This is part of Montavilla History Questions Answered, a series of history related articles. If you have questions about Montavilla’s past that you’d like answered, local historian Patricia Sanders will investigate your question. Please email your questions to history@montavilla.net and we may feature it alongside Patricia Sanders’ research in a future.