The Bear Who Sat Through Sermon
A black bear wandered into a North Creek church during Sunday service, causing panic among the congregation before calmly exiting—leaving behind a confused minister and an eager bear hunt.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
A gentleman from North Creek, Warren county, New York, in the Adirondack region, in speaking of the mild winter we have had, related as something very remarkable the appearance of black bears in the villages in his neighborhood. He says that four bears appeared in one day in North Creek in broad daylight; that their presence was discovered by their visits in the nighttime, by the loss of sheep and hogs, but none had been bold enough to come in the daytime.
One Sunday a large bear entered the church at North Creek, just as the minister had commenced his sermon, and walked leisurely up the passageway until he reached the middle of the church. The women jumped upon the seats and screamed at the height of their voices; all was confusion, and the services came to a stand still. Bruin raised himself on his haunches, and calmly and in his native majesty surveyed the scene, with a look as much to say, 'What is all this confusion about?' and, seeming satisfied with his scrutiny, deliberately walked out.
Several men immediately followed him out, and a lively scrimmage was indulged in, but the bear got away. It is probably unnecessary to say that the services were brought to a speedy termination, the congregation all going to the bear hunt.
While this 1890s tale of urban-wildlife intrusion might seem like a quaint oddity today, it highlights how recently Seattle and its neighbors were on the literal frontier where human settlements and wild predators shared space with little buffer. It serves as a humorous counterpoint to modern headlines about bear encounters in suburban backyards, reminding us that the 'wild' was once just outside our front doors.
From readers
No comments yet. If you know something about this story — a correction, a family memory, a source — it belongs here.