A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

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Wasilla

Wasilla is the place where I have lived for the past 29 years - sort of. The house in which my wife and I raised our family sits here, but I have made my rather odd career as a different sort of photojournalist by continually wandering off to other places to photograph people and gather information, which I have then put together in various publications that have served the Alaska Native Eskimo, Indian and Aleut communities.

Although I did not have a great of free time to devote to this rather strange community, named after a Tanaina Athabascan Indian chief who knew Wasilla in the way that I so impossibly long to, I have still documented it regularly over the past quarter-century plus. In the early days, my Wasilla photographs focused mostly upon my children and the events they participated in - baseball, football, figure skating, hockey, frog catching, fire cracker detonation, Fourth of July parade - that sort of thing. 

In 2002, I purchased my first digital camera and then, whenever I was home, I began to photograph Wasilla upon a daily basis, but not in a conventional way. These were grab shots - whatever caught my eye as I took my many long walks or drove through the town, shooting through the car window at people and scenes that appeared and disappeared before I could even focus and compose in the traditional photographic way.

Thus, the Wasilla portion of this blog will be devoted both to the images that I take as I wander about and those that I have taken in the past. Despite the odd, random, nature of the images, I believe they communicate something powerful about this town that I have never seen expressed anywhere else. 

Wasilla is a sprawling community that has been slapped down hodge-podge upon what was so recently wilderness of the most exquisite beauty. In its design, it is deliberately anti-zoned, anti-planned. In the building of Wasilla, the desire to make a buck has trumped aesthetics and all other considerations. This town, built in the midst of exquisite beauty, has largely become an unsightly, unattractive, mess of urban sprawl. Largely because of this, it often seems to me that Wasilla is a community with no sense of community, a town devoid of town soul.

Yet - Wasilla is my home and if I am lucky it will be until I grow old and die. Despite its horrific failings, it is still made of the stuff of any small city: people; moms and dads, grammas and grampas, teens, children, churches, bars, professionals, laborers, soldiers, missionaries, artists, athletes, geniuses, do-gooders, hoodlums, the wealthy, the homeless, the rational and logical, the slightly insane and the wholly insane - and, yes, as is now obvious to the whole world, politicians, too.

So perhaps, if one were to search hard enough, it might just be possible to find a sense of community here, and a town soul. So, using my skills as a photojournalist and a writer, I hope to do just that. If this place has a sense of community, I will find it. If there is a town soul to Wasilla, I will document it. I won't compete with the newspapers. Hell no! But as time and income allow, it will be fun to wander into the places where the folks described above gather, and then put what I find on this blog.

 

by 300...

Anywhere within a 300 mile radius of Wasilla. This encompasses perhaps the most wild, dramatic, gorgeous, beautiful section of land and sea to be found in any comparable space anywhere on Earth. I can never explore it all, but I will do the best that I can, and will here share what I find and experience with you.  

and then some...

Anywhere else in the world that I happen to get to, such as Point Lay, Alaska; Missoula, Montana; Serenki, Chukotka, Russia; or Bangalore, India. Perhaps even Lagos, Nigeria. I have both a desire and scheme to get me there. It is a long shot. We shall see if I succeed.

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Saturday
Nov152008

A hard working, lazy, day - take your pick

You could say that I put in a very lazy day, today, or you could say that I put in a reasonably hard working day. Depending on you define the day. If you define it from the time I got up, about 12:25 PM until now, 11:41 PM, then it was a lazy day. If you define the day as having begun at 12:01 AM, then it was a reasonably hard working day, as I was going hard on a project and kept at it until about 7:25 AM this morning, at which time I went to bed.

Once up, I could not bear to cook oatmeal. I just wanted to sit somewhere where people would wait on me, bring me hot eggs and ham and toast and coffee. Margie had the car at work. So I had Caleb drive me to Family Restaurant, and, indeed, I was waited on and it was very good.

The people in front of me were not eating breakfast, but lunch.

Afterwards, I walked home. Two and a half miles, maybe three; I must measure it. I was still feeling lazy, but when I saw this kid walking up between the signs with the mountains behind him, I found the energy to shoot.

"Hello," I said, just before we passed each other.

"Hello," he said, "how you doing?"

"Good," I answered. "How you doing?"

"Good," he said.

We were both good.

Good.

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Reader Comments (2)

Bill,

I really like this photo. I think the dark contrast of the kid and the mountains compared to the fresh snow and the brightness of the signs makes it quite memorable. I am glad to think that not everyone in Wasilla still drives a car to their destination. I admit that I have not walked nearly enough in your town. This is a very interesting photo!

Charlie

November 16, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterCharlie

I am enjoying seeing your photos from Wasilla! Keep them coming.

Tricia

November 18, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterTricia

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