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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Wednesday
Oct212009

I drop into a banquet for Iñupiat youth and Elders; Etok is elected to be the Arctic Slope's Elder's Rep; Kalib is thrilled by the fire

This is a banquet thrown today by the Arctic Slope Regional Corporation for Iñupiat Eskimo youth and Elders at the Hilton Hotel in Anchorage. I did not drive to town to photograph the banquet or the meeting that followed and I took very few pictures. I went to the banquet to meet a few young people to interview for my project. 

Here's the thing about that project - I am budgeted for 96 pages. My original layout came to 278 pages. I threw all kinds of stuff away that I wanted to keep - including many pictures that are better than others that stayed but did not tell the story as directly - and it now stands at 118 pages.

So it seems foolish for me to add even more material, yet, even if just interviews, for not a single picture that I took today will go into it, but there are still some things that I feel it needs. All these folks were down from Barrow and the other villages of the Arctic Slope to participate in the Alaska Federation of Natives Elders and Youth Conference.

Normally, I would have taken many pictures, but I have so many to deal with already that I just did not want to add too many more. Plus, I doubt that I slept for even two hours last night, so I was tired. I had little energy.

The youth and elders invited me to eat with them and I did. 

There was no Iñupiaq food - no whale, no seal, no caribou, no fish or ducks, no Eskimo donuts. It was all Hilton Hotel catering foods. Roast beef and roast turkey in gravy, red potato wedges, green beans, rolls of various kinds and pastries and coffee.

It was still very good.

There is a football field in Barrow that cost $3 million to build (and the game has proved very popular in Barrow). Luke Tetreau from Kaktovik said that if they could spend that much on the field, they should spend at least one million on school supplies. The statement brought loud applause.

Don't picture a big fancy stadium on the tundra, because there is no such thing. It just costs a lot of money to build anything in the Arctic. I had hoped to return to Barrow late this summer and photograph some games there, but it didn't work for me.

Maybe next year.

And yes, Barrow is cold now, despite the warm weather we are having here (although standing in the wind in Anchorage today, it did not feel warm at all. It felt cold.) Cold, snowy, and icy.

Hopefully, I will get back up there before too long and I will show you.

This is Etok, also known as Charlie Edwardsen, Jr. Etok was one of the original activists that launched the movement to settle Native land claims in Alaska, but he did not celebrate when the Alaska Native Land Claims Settlement Act (ANCSA) was passed in 1971.

Today, he was nominated to be the Arctic Slope's Elder representative to the AFN Elders and Youth Conference and this is from his campaign speech. Etok said that he had been absent from AFN for 30 years because he considered the acceptance of ANCSA to be a sellout. He noted that no Arctic Slope Iñupiat had ever agreed to accept the act, no Iñupiat had ever signed a document of surrender, and no Iñupiat had treated or any in way agreed to give up one acre of their aboriginal Arctic Slope homeland - including Prudhoe Bay - to either the United States government or Alaska.

Therefore, he said, it all still belongs to the Iñupiat.

Now, after all these decades, he had decided to get involved again. And he won.

It is very difficult for me to think of Etok as an Elder, but I guess he is. It is amazing how many young, vital, people are Elders now.

I have yet to hear the results of the youth election.

The Reverend Mary Ann Warden delivers the closing prayer.

The AFN Convention will be held Thursday through Saturday. I do not plan to cover the convention per se, but there will be many people there who I want to see, so I will attend at least two days, and possibly all three.

As I drove away, I passed this kid on the Glenn Highway, by Merrill Field.

At home, Kalib was fascinated by the fire.

Very pleased.

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Reader Comments (1)

great reporting on the banquet, bill! you're very talented. and, what a job! culling down hundreds of pages into only 96. whew! but that's how books are created. enjoyed the cozy fireside pix of kalib. we're having a day of indian summer here in suburban philly. i was fortunate to be out driving and enjoying the foliage and the wind blowing my hair. i'm an elder, i think.

October 21, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterRuth Z Deming

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