Most people who won permits to participate in the first Florida black bear hunt since 2015 came away empty-handed. Jeff Nemeth wasn’t one of them — he and his son harvested a 503-pound bear on a private plot in the Panhandle last month.

Nemeth, 57, of Inverness estimated he put in 100 hours of research to prepare and spent $4,000 to $5,000 in travel and gear fees. He plans to shell out an additional $5,000 to an Ocala taxidermist for a full-body mount of the 8-foot-3 animal.

“It’s a lifetime hunt,” he said.

Nemeth was one of 52 hunters to kill a Florida black bear out of 172 permits issued during the state’s first hunt in a decade, according to Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission figures. The controversial hunt — which took place from Dec. 6 to 28 — used a lottery system to grant permits to the limited number of hunters. Each permit holder was allowed to harvest one bear.

The Florida hunt exposed deep emotional divisions among animal rights activists and hunters. In social media forums and in dueling media interviews, the groups fiercely debated the morals and heritage of hunting, the science of bear biology and its ecosystem — arguing even about the Biblical aspects of whether God would approve.

Many animal rights activists entered the lottery to win permits with no plans to use them — only to keep them away from hunters. These activists said data the wildlife commission used to support the hunt, which showed 53% statewide increase in bear populations since 2002, was outdated because it was collected in 2014 to 2015.

For its part, the agency said Florida black bear population counts can’t be taken more frequently than the length of one generation, or 10 years. The Commission said the hunt was intended to slow bear population growth and manage the species’ numbers before they outgrow their habitat.

Florida plans to make the hunt an annual event, although details about next season’s dates have not been released. Hunter success rates and the number of unused permits will be used to evaluate 2025 data and inform future hunts, spokesperson Shannon Knowles said in an email.

“The goal was to put the permits in the hands of those who will use them for hunting,” Knowles said.

The ratio of hunting permits to bears hunted turned out to be similar to other states with similar hunt parameters, the Wildlife Commission said. It has promised a full harvest report to be released in the coming months.

Nemeth, a retiree, said he was impressed with how the Commission managed the hunt. A lifelong hunter, he moved to Florida five years ago from Michigan, where he often went bear hunting — but was never successful.

Nemeth secured a lease to hunt on private land in Eastpoint, southwest of Tallahassee and four hours north of his home. A few large, older bears had been seen on the property, scaring away deer. Nemeth scouted these “nuisance” animals for months, analyzing footage and laying out feed, before traveling with his son to make the kill in early December.

The first two days of the hunt, he said, were rainy and miserable. But the sun emerged on the third day, and he and his son, Rees Nemeth, 27, took their spots at a blind. The camouflaged structure let them observe and shoot undetected. Just before daybreak, they saw a bear come to a nearby corn pile to eat. They waited for a clean shot — and took it.

Nemeth said he plans to enjoy the dark red bear meat in stews and chilis, as well as grilled in teriyaki sauce.

“I’m not a trophy hunter,” he said. “I hunt for meat. My freezer is full of game — my two gators are in there, and I’ve got a couple pigs in there, a turkey, and we eat what we kill. And that’s how it is, you know, I think that’s the right way.”

Chuck Mitchell, 73, of Tallahassee feels differently. After spending $1,000 on lottery tickets, at $5 per entry for 200 chances, he also secured a hunting permit. But he did so to keep a bear from being killed. Each person could buy unlimited entries, although they couldn’t win more than one tag.

Mitchell has lived in Florida for 55 years and remembers the last bear hunt in 2015. No lottery system existed during that hunt; instead, the FWC sold an unlimited number of permits. The season was called off after just two days with 304 bears killed.

Although Mitchell describes himself as a hunter and fisher more than an animal rights activist, he doesn’t support what he described as killing bears for trophies. He kills only animals he can eat, he said, and bear meat can sometimes be unpalatable depending on the bear’s diet and fat content. While growing up in swampy North Carolina, he said, he would sooner kill and eat a raccoon or a possum than a bear.

He lives in Tallahassee adjacent to a nature preserve, where he often sees bears as close as 75 feet from his house. The shy animals never bother anyone, he said.

“You’re shooting something to prove you’re a big hunter,” he said. “Gun down a bear and call themselves a man.”

Not all bear hunters are men. Ashlyn Croff, 33, and her husband both entered the lottery to win a permit. She won; he didn’t. When she called to tell him, he hung up on her.

Croff has been hunting her entire life, heading out solo since she was 22 and “decided I don’t need any man to go with me.”

The Pensacola native hunted every day for 23 days to harvest a bear, occasionally letting her husband accompany her so as not to hurt his feelings. When she finally shot a 142-pound female in Wewahitchka, she was joined only by her 12-year-old son. It was one of the best experiences of her life, she said.

Croff knows the bear hunt had its critics. Like everyone who won a permit, she was offered $2,000 from Bear Warriors United, an Oviedo, Florida-based advocacy group, not to use her tag.

Although she appreciates these activists’ love for animals, she said, hunters love animals, too. Bears frequently attack her feeders and cameras, scaring off other game, like deer. That keeps her from putting sustainably caught food on her family’s table.

“While (activists are) eating their beef at home, a cow was killed for that. While they’re eating their hot dog, a little piggy was killed for that,” she said. “It’s the same exact thing, it’s just not a big, black, fuzzy bear that is so cute on all of the magazines and on TV.”

Activist Janis Ingham, 55, doesn’t eat bear, hamburgers or any other meat. The Casselberry resident has been a vegan for 38 years, a decision she made for ethical reasons. She bought 350 bear tags, winning one, out of concern that Florida’s decade-old bear counts were no longer accurate given recent development in Florida cutting into their habitats.

Ingham lives near the Black Bear Wilderness Area, a popular 7-mile hiking loop where she once spotted a bear herself. She described them as resilient, smart and social — a species to protect, not to hunt.

“This has become an awakening,” she said. “Many people … will pursue various avenues to try to put some guardrails in place so that this type of thing doesn’t have to happen again, where people have to buy lottery tickets to get a permit to try to protect a particular animal.”

Between about 40 and 50 activists won hunting permits. Unlike Mitchell, some didn’t pay the $5 required for an entry into the lottery system. Instead, they gave their names and information to large buyers who bought tickets on their behalf.

Angels in Distress, an anti-hunting nonprofit, partnered with Hurricane Pet Rescue to help people sign up and cover hunting license costs. The nonprofit’s director, Steve Rosen, told the Orlando Sentinel he spent $200,000 of his own money. Rosen declined to comment for this story, writing in all-caps via email, “Stop bothering me. You are only out for yourself, not the bears like most all media hacks.”

Levis Morales, a Broward County resident, heard about the hunt from his boss, who asked if he would be willing to sign up. He gave his information on a website, and a donor bought 300 tickets, the equivalent of $1,500, on his behalf. Morales was surprised to win a permit but proud to save a bear, he said.

Another permit winner, Karen Gray, who lives in Arizona, also gave her information to an animal rights group to buy permits on her behalf. A dog and cat rescue asked her if she would like to obtain a license so it would go unused and less bears would die, she said.

Gray declined to give the name of the rescue for fear of getting them in trouble or publicizing their plans. The rescue bought 350 tickets, costing $1,750, under her name.

“I hope it had some impact and less bears were murdered,” she said.

People from inside and outside Florida bought over 163,000 entries altogether, which would account for $817,000 in application fees alone. Out of the 172 permit winners, six came from outside the state, while the remainder were Florida residents.

The Wildlife Commission called the hunt a success. One hunter received a warning for a minor Wildlife Management Area violation, and no citations were issued, the agency said in a news release after the hunt. No wildlife violations were found.

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This story was produced by Fresh Take Florida, a news service of the University of Florida College of Journalism and Communications. The reporter can be reached at [email protected]. You can donate to support our students here.