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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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Sunday
Oct042009

Cocoon mode,* day 24: "Keep out!" I am warmly welcomed; road construction disrupts Metro Cafe

DateSunday, October 4, 2009 at 7:00AM

On my coffee break, I turned onto a road down which I had never before driven - or at least had not driven within the last 20 years or so. I soon came upon this scene. It gave me a warm feeling of exclusion.

That was yesterday's coffee break, after I looked for Old Girl. I looked for her again today from my bike but did not find her. This is today's coffee break, which I took with Melanie, Lavina and Margie. We are at Metro Cafe. Metro has had a rough couple of weeks.

And this is why. They tore up Lucille Street right in front of Metro to remake the road. Traffic has been blocked off, sometimes partially, sometimes completely, so it has been a little harder to get to Metro, but if you are determined and willing to be grilled by a flag woman, you can get there. They are not going to get the "drive by" traffic, because no one is just driving by.

On the other hand, Margie wanted me to buy a cinnamon role today, but there were none. All the good pastries were gone. "The construction workers bought them," the barista told me.

So they have getting the construction crew business. And when the construction ends, that business will go. I hope the business that comes back in to replace it will be greater, because I really want Metro Cafe to succeed. Their coffee is excellent and they usually have a better selection of pastries than do the kiosks. Plus, they are very nice people, so I want them to hang around.

As we pulled out, this flag woman stopped us. "Don't drive onto Lucille Street," she commanded in a friendly voice, "Drive down the bike trail and out onto Spruce."

"Oh, good!" I answered. "That will be fun. Now I will take your picture."

I raised my camera. She smiled and I did.

 

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month.

AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment1 Comment |
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Reader Comments (1)

I looked for you yesterday, at the state cross country meet. I see you were drinking coffee and playing with your grandson. :)

October 4, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSuzy (=^..^=)

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