WHITTLE: Crockett not only Tennessean to whip a bear
April 08, 2012
DAN WHITTLE, Post Columnist
As the Volunteer State's black bear population grows, as verified recently by Tennessee Wildlife Resource Agency experts, the trail of good tales is expanding too. Bears have proliferated to the point, back in the mid-1990s, the late C.L. Vickers and some Bradyville-area neighbors confirmed a bear sighting in a pasture filled with livestock. There were also confirmed reports of bears spotted in the Milton and Christiana areas of Rutherford County. More recently, two bears have been killed by vehicles on Interstate 40 in and near Cookeville.Since earliest U.S. history, bear legends, some true and untrue, have proliferated in Tennessee, including the likes of the legendary Davy Crockett, who reportedly "killed a bar" back in his youthful days in East Tennessee.The following is a modern-day bear-fighting legend. How a mountain man formerly known as "Hulk" became known as "Bear" is the stuff of which Cumberland Mountain legends are born. Here are the bear facts, so pull up a nail keg and enjoy the journey. "You gotta have a strategy," explained Barry "Bear" Vinson, whose claim to fame echoes forever in his beautiful native Upper Cumberland mountain setting. Recognized as "a big mountain of a man," ole' Bear bared his bear-fighting soul with me when we shared newspaper employment in the 1990s. He was a Murfreesboro newspaper's circulation manager.
As a newspaper columnist, for me, he was a dream-come-true.Having a lifelong interest in origin of names and nicknames, it was only natural that I inquired how he came to be called Bear."It was 1979, when I was a young lad at about age 20, when some of my buddies and I went to annual Old Timers Day at the White County Fair in Sparta," Bear said about his pre-bear fighting days. "My buddies dared me to fight a 720-pound bear named Ginger that measured at least 8 feet tall when standing on her back legs." And that's not stretching the bear's dimensions. Barry, no small man, was known as Hulk prior to climbing into the ring to grapple with a grizzly, whose trainer bragged and billed his bear as having never been defeated by a mere mortal man. "! was a big bear of a guy myself, but I weighed only 250 pounds, which was big enough to play on the offensive line at Tennessee Tech in nearby Cookeville," he described. "So, I wasn't afraid of much, but the idea of wrestling this bear made me nervous. "To combat "pre-bear-rasslin" jitters, Hulk said he previewed his furry opponent, which had never lost to a man. "In my scouting, I noticed that Ginger, the bear, would immediately charge her human adversary upon his entering the ring," he said. He claims to do his "best bear-fighting thinking" in the woods. "I went in seclusion up at a friends' cabin on Short Mountain, in the quiet of the woods over the line in Cannon County. That's where I strategized. On the scheduled day of the big fight, I got on my game face, to implement my strategy," Bear recalled. "It took that long to get my nerves under control... "Meanwhile, drama was building throughout mountain towns as folks heard that he was going to grapple with a grizzly. "I noted that the second a man got in the ring, Ginger would charge," he recounted. "And the man didn't have time to do anything but yell for someone to get that big bear off of him. "He said his "strategizing" on Short Mountain paid off. "I decided to change things up a little and try to surprise the bear," he recalled. "Instead of stepping into the ring, I dove through the ropes to the other side. Ginger came at me, immediately, swinging her arms and big paws, which had been declawed, but the bear could land a powerful wallop with her big arms and paws. "A hush immediately swept over the crowd of bear-fight spectators. But then, cheers echoed through the mountains as he made his move on the bear. "| reverted back to my football training. I got my feet spread and shoulders squared up, and kept moving," Bear reported. "I kept moving, you know, to stay out of the bear's reach. "| finally managed to get Ginger to stand down on all four of her feet, when I suddenly climbed on her back," he noted. "The bear tried repeatedly to knock me off my own feet, but I kept them out of her reach. "Bear-fighting drama was building. "Ginger stood up, and I dove at her feet, and was able to flip the giant grizzly over my back. That ole' bear hit the ground with a loud 'thud," he said. But, the bear wasn't through."' decided to do the exact same move again, again flipping her over my back," Bear added. "This time, Ginger got up, but she went back to her own corner of the ring, and sat down. Her trainer started poking her, trying to force her to come back out and fight some more. But that brave ole' bear began growling at him, so the trainer ended our fight." He said the trainer informed him and his buddies that he would never again let Ginger enter the wrestling ring with him. "He needn't worry, for I wasn't about to climb back in that ring,” Bear confirmed. "Besides, in looking back in reflection, I don't think it right for a man to fight beasts. But I remember feeling like little biblical David in the battle with the giant Goliath.” Bear-fighting records indicate Ginger had more than 10,000 fights with men, with her only loss coming to Bear, the now legendary grandson of the late Monroe and Pansie Cole, whose ancestors helped settle the unincorporated community known as Coles Chapel located near Burgess Falls in White County. In 2006, Bear moved back to his beloved mountains to start a computer business after retiring from the newspaper business. Today, Bear is permanently etched in the fabric of Cumberland Mountain bear-fighting legends.
