Grizzly Bear 399 lived to old age because we made room for her. She died because we’re in her wilds

Rangers in the two parks were primarily trying to keep the few bears they had left apart from the growing numbers of humans. In the forests the federal government had bought out the grazing allotments of most of the remaining sheep ranchers in the area.

Keeping human food and livestock away from bears was the mission. Training the surrounding communities and residents to keep their garbage away from bears, a practice completely opposite to how garbage and bears were managed in the 1960s. Garbage dumps were where you could see grizzlies in those days.

I told the story of the Endangered Species Act and grizzly bears in my 1993 book “Saving All the Parts” through the life of another grizzly bear, Bear 59.  Her success at catching elk calves to feed her and her cubs demonstrated that the park’s bears were weaning themselves off of garbage and living a natural life living off the fruit of the land. They ate spawning cutthroats in season, seeds, berries, roots, forbs and even ants and moths.

Unfortunately Bear 59 also had become habituated to humans. She could be seen around Canyon Village and would attract photographers when she came out of the forest. In 1986 she killed and ate William Tesinsky, a photographer from Great Falls, Montana, teaching that generation of park managers to discourage human-bear contact.

As the grizzly numbers grew, managers couldn’t keep people and bears apart. The human population was also growing, both inside the park and around both parks. Yellowstone had 3 million visitors when Bear 399 was born. Today visitation has grown to more than 5 million a year.

A new generation of bear managers, like Kerry Gunther of Yellowstone, had learned to finesse the habituation that many of the grizzlies experienced. All of the grizzly bear habitat was filling up and especially female bears and subadult males were forced to live near roads by the dominant males who were taking the best habitat.

Visitors began forming “bear jams” around these bears who would go about their lives grazing and hanging out. Smart animals, these bears, who didn’t have access to human food, were habituated but not aggressive. I watched Gunther and two other rangers expertly manage hundreds of people in a bear jam around three grizzlies in 1998.

Bear 399 was captured by biologists in 2001 and radio-collared and was seen with cubs in 2004. But she got in trouble in 2007 when she attacked a hiker. He asked the authorities to spare her and now with a following of millions, they did. The National Park Service increased its efforts to protect her around people and formed a Grand Teton Wildlife Brigade of volunteers to manage the crowds flocking to see her. Kate Wilmot, Grand Teton’s bear manager, led this group that carried bear spray and enforced a 100 yard viewing distance.

I watched the brigade, and rangers allow hundreds of visitors to watch 399 and her cubs in 2014 along the road just south of where she was born. She was the most famous grizzly bear in the nation, probably the world, who had become the major attraction for Grand Teton National Park. ‘Grizzlies of Pilgrim Creek,” by writer Todd Wilkinson and photographer Tom Mangelsen captured her in all her glory and helped her story help all grizzlies.

Bear 399 was hit by a vehicle in the Snake River Canyon in October ending her life but not her story. In fact her death made grizzly bears front page news worldwide. The way she died showed how humans remain the major threat to the species.