Dan Haggerty, who gained widespread recognition for his portrayal of the kind mountain man with a striking beard and his bear friend Ben in the NBC television series and 1974 film “The Life and Times of Grizzly Adams,” passed away on Friday in Burbank, California. His age was 73 years.
Terry Bomar, his manager and friend, stated that spinal cancer was the cause of death.
Dan Haggerty was creating a name for himself in Hollywood as an animal handler and stuntman before landing his famous part. When a producer requested him to appear in a few opening moments for a film about a woodsman and his bear, it was his big break. The plot, which is based on a novel by Charles Sellier Jr., centers on a man who flees to the woods after being wrongfully convicted of murder, becomes friends with the local wildlife, and takes in an abandoned bear.
Haggerty accepted to do the part, but he had one requirement: he had to appear in the whole film. Despite having a relatively low budget of $165,000, the film’s remake brought in close to $30 million at the box office. Because of this popularity, a television series was created, and in February 1977, Haggerty went back to playing the character of the wild and outdoorsy wilderness guardian.
The audience responded well to the show. It lukewarms the heart, as The New York Times’ John Leonard observed in his review. A large lump in the throat and a lot of communing with nature are experienced when a man and a bear hide out in a log cabin. Haggerty won a 1978 People’s Choice Award for being the most well-liked actor in a new series because of the series’ warm and sympathetic tone, which won over a lot of viewers.
The series also yielded two follow-ups: “Legend of the Wild,” which was broadcast on television in 1978 and eventually released in theaters in 1981, and “The Capture of Grizzly Adams,” a 1982 television film in which Adams ultimately exonerates himself of the false charge.
Born in Los Angeles on November 19, 1942, Daniel Francis Haggerty had a difficult upbringing. He had a turbulent childhood, breaking out of military school several times before coming home with his actor-father in Burbank when his parents divorced when he was three years old.
Haggerty was married twice in his personal life. When he was 17, he got married to Diane Rooker, but they later got divorced. In 2008, he lost his second wife, Samantha Hilton, in a horrific motorbike accident. His children, Don, Megan, Tracy, Dylan, and Cody, survive him.
In his debut motion picture, “Muscle Beach Party” (1964), Haggerty portrayed bodybuilder Biff. After that, he played supporting parts in motorcycle and wildlife movies. He was a hippie commune member in “Easy Rider.” He also played the role off-screen, living with a variety of wild creatures he had either tamed or rescued on a small ranch in Malibu Canyon.
His expertise with animals led to positions as an animal trainer and stuntman for television shows including “Daktari” and “Tarzan.” He kept taking on parts like “Where the North Wind Blows” (1974) and “The Adventures of Frontier Fremont” (1976) that highlighted his affinity for the natural world. His love of outdoor parts brought him roles evoking Grizzly Adams to movies like “Grizzly Mountain” (1997) and “Escape to Grizzly Mountain” (2000).
Haggerty had appearances in a number of horror movies later in his career, such as “Terror Night” (1987) and “Elves” (1989). He was involved in court in 1985 and was given a 90-day jail sentence for distributing cocaine to police officers who were undercover.
Tragic incidents also occurred in his life. Haggerty suffered third-degree burns to his arms when a diner carrying a burning drink unintentionally caught his renowned beard on fire in 1977 when he was dining. Despite being admitted to the hospital and supposed to stay for a month, he left after just ten days, claiming to have expertise of curing animals.
“The first couple of days I just lay in the dark room drinking water, like a wounded wolf trying to heal myself,” he said, reflecting on his injury, to People magazine.
Man in Walmart Demanded That I Give up My Wheelchair for His Tired Wife – Karma Got Him before I Could
I never expected a trip to Walmart to turn into a showdown over my wheelchair, with a stranger demanding I give it up for his tired wife. As the situation spiraled and a crowd gathered, I realized this ordinary shopping day was taking an extraordinary turn.
I was cruising down the aisles in my wheelchair, feeling pretty good after scoring some deals, when a guy—let’s call him Mr. Entitled—blocked my path.
“Hey, you,” he barked, “My wife needs to sit down. Give her your wheelchair.”
I blinked, thinking it was a joke. “Uh, sorry, what?”
“You heard me,” he snapped, gesturing to his wife. “She’s been on her feet all day. You’re young, you can walk.”
I tried to keep my cool. “I actually can’t walk. That’s why I have the chair.”
Mr. Entitled’s face turned red. “Don’t lie to me! Now get up and let my wife sit down!”
My jaw dropped. I glanced at his wife, who looked mortified.
“Look, sir,” I said, patience wearing thin, “I need this chair to get around. There are benches near the front of the store.”
But he wasn’t having it. He stepped closer, looming over me. “Listen here, you little —”
“Is there a problem here?”
I’ve never been so relieved to hear a Walmart employee’s voice. A guy named Miguel appeared, looking concerned.
Mr. Entitled whirled on Miguel. “Yes! This girl won’t give up her wheelchair for my tired wife. Make her get out of it!”
Miguel’s eyebrows shot up. “Sir, we can’t ask customers to give up mobility aids. That’s not appropriate.”
Mr. Entitled sputtered. “What’s not appropriate is this faker taking up a chair when my wife needs it!”
People were starting to stare. Miguel tried to calm things down, speaking in a low tone. “Sir, please lower your voice. We have benches available. I can show you where they are.”
But Mr. Entitled was on a roll. He jabbed a finger at Miguel’s chest. “Don’t tell me to lower my voice! I want to speak to your manager right now!”
As he ranted, he stepped back—right into a display of canned vegetables. He stumbled, arms windmilling, and went down hard.
CRASH!
Cans went flying everywhere. Mr. Entitled lay sprawled on the floor, surrounded by dented tins of green beans and corn. For a moment, everything was silent.
His wife rushed forward. “Frank! Are you okay?”
Frank tried to get up, but slipped on a rolling can and went down again with another crash.
I couldn’t hold back a laugh. Miguel shot me a look, fighting a smile too.
“Sir, please don’t move,” Miguel said, reaching for his walkie-talkie. “I’m calling for assistance.”
Frank ignored him, struggling to his feet again. “This is ridiculous! I’ll sue this whole store!”
By now, a small crowd had gathered. A security guard and a manager appeared, taking in the scene—Frank standing unsteadily, cans everywhere, Miguel trying to keep things calm.
“What’s going on here?” the manager asked.
Frank opened his mouth to rant again, but his wife cut him off. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “We were just leaving. Come on, Frank.”
She grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the exit. As they passed me, she paused. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Then they were gone, leaving a mess of cans and confused onlookers in their wake.
The manager turned to me. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry for the disturbance. Are you alright?”
I nodded, finding my voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… wow. That was something else.”
He apologized again and started organizing the cleanup. People began to disperse, but a few helped pick up cans.
An older woman approached me, patting my arm. “You handled that so well, dear. Some people just don’t think before they speak.”
I smiled. “Thanks. I’m just glad it’s over.”
As the commotion died down, I decided to finish my shopping. No way was I letting Frank ruin my entire trip. I rolled down the next aisle, trying to shake off the residual tension.
“Hey,” a voice called out. I turned to see Miguel jogging up to me. “I just wanted to check if you’re really okay. That guy was way out of line.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I’m alright. Thanks for stepping in. Does this kind of thing happen often?”
Miguel shook his head. “Not like that, no. But you’d be surprised how entitled some people can be. It’s like they forget basic human decency when they walk through the doors.”
We chatted for a bit as I continued shopping. Miguel shared some of his own customer service horror stories, which honestly made me feel a bit better. At least I wasn’t alone in dealing with difficult people.
As I left the store, I couldn’t help but shake my head at the whole experience. What a day. But you know what? For every Frank out there, there are way more decent folks—like Miguel, that nice older lady, and curious kids.
I headed home, my faith in humanity a little battered but still intact. And hey, at least I had a wild story to tell. Plus, I got some free cereal out of the deal. Silver linings, right?
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