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
Nov182009

Kalib gets sick and stays home, I take a walk in the cold air and later go on a coffee drive - how much more excitement do you want?

I have been very lazy and have yet to dig up any of my winter clothes - if everything hasn't disappeared - or buy new clothing if it has. I was desperate to go on a walk this morning, but with the temperature at -22 (-30 c), I needed some kind of protection. 

So I put on an extra sweatshirt, two light jackets and pulled a thin pair of pajama-like cotton pants over my Levi's. In and of themselves, they would not trap much heat, but I reasoned that they would create a layer of air between them and my Levi's and that would be good enough for a relatively short walk. I wouldn't want to be out all day dressed like that, though. Or even for more than just the tiniest while, if there had been a strong wind blowing.

Every single one of my three, good, beaver hats - each worth about $200 - has disappeared, but I found another hat that would do. I had no idea where any gloves were, but my hands are pretty cold-conditioned and I figured that I would be fine if I kept them in my pockets and just pulled them out every now and then to take a picture.

I put on two pairs of socks and then stepped into my regular, kick-around shoes.

As I headed toward the door, I saw these two, engrossed in something going on in Caleb's computer. Little Kalib did not go to daycare today, as he had a bad runny nose, sniffles, and other ailments. Hence, the Kleenix.

On that front, it has now been two weeks since whatever bug struck me, struck me. I hope it was the swine flu, so that I can be done with it. The symptoms read somewhat the same. Probably not, though - that one might still be waiting for me. I am certainly much better than I was two weeks ago, but I remain annoyingly congested and I have a cough that goes away and then comes right back again.

So I walked, and soon I saw a shaft of light falling through the trees, down the road. I could hear a car coming, so I got ready and shot the picture, just as the shadow entered it.

I rounded the corner, walked up the road, then turned around to see what my shadow looked like. I was surprised to see that it was frightened. "Don't shoot!" it shouted silently. "Please! Don't shoot! I have a wife, and kids! And a grandson! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

Silly shadow! I didn't even have a gun.

Shortly after I topped the hill and started to head down, a school bus rolled past the end of the road and the way the light looked coming through its window's was amazing. I tried to take a picture, but the pocket camera was just too damned slow.

Sometimes, a school bus will go by and another will soon follow. So, hoping this might happen, I stopped, raised my camera and waited.

After about 15 minutes, none had come. I noticed that my bare fingers were starting to go numb. So I decided to photograph the very next vehicle that came along and call it quits. It was this UPS van. I put my camera back in my pocket, tucked my hands in, too, and headed on, hoping that I might find some moose in the marsh.

I didn't, but even before I got to the marsh, I saw the tracks of a snowshoe hare.

And then two ravens flew over me.

At 4:00 PM, I took my coffee break and here I am, on it, driving down Pittman.

Still on my coffee break, passing by the fire-station. I liked the way it looked, but the damn camera would not focus. Oh well. I took the picture anyway.

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Reader Comments (5)

If my hubby walked out the door for a stroll when the temp is -22 and without his gloves, I'd be chewing him royally! Guys who do that need and deserve such. LOL. Nope. We do NOT wish for -22. That's a cold, cold, cold day here. Many winters we will experience something near that, but in a "good" winter, we seldom go below -10. Hope you find your beaver hats..they sound wonderfully warm. I figure if you're gonna wear fur, it needs to be the real thing. None of that faux stuff.

November 18, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterWhiteStone

Like WhiteStone, I was thinking that Margie needs to give you a good straightening out. No gloves on -22 degree days? Don't people lose fingers like that? Furthermore, wasn't it you that said, just a few posts back that although you didn't like being cold you loved the cold? Isn't that motivation to go looking for your cold weather clothing?

Jacob looks like a whole different person with his beard. Does he grow it in the winter for warmth?

Hope your little guy feels better. Hope you find your hats. Hope you still have 10 fingers. Hope Margie can talk some sense to you. Gees. I sound like somebody's mother. :^D

November 18, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

By what Whitestone & Debby had to say about your walk, I think that was kinda dangerous? Maybe I would've enjoyed it too? Hee...hee...
I loved the shadow you clicked. I chuckled at your comments that went to well with your shadow!

November 18, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSandy

Oopps...I meant, ' I chuckled at your comments that went too well with your shadow!'

November 18, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSandy

Whitestone - Beaver hats are wonderfully warm. I have never had any parts of my flesh that were covered by beaver hat get cold - even while wandering in real temperatures in the -60's. As for that little jaunt, you must remember that I have spent a great deal of time in cold weather, I know this neighborhood very well and I have a pretty good feel for what I can do and can't do.

Debby - The reason Jacob looks so different is because this is not Jacob, it is Kalib. Again, I was never in the least danger and it is true that I like being in cold, but don't being cold, but I probably have a different definition of what being old is than you do. I could feel the cold, but I never got cold on that walk.

Sandy - Don't worry, I was never in any danger. I know you would have enjoyed it. I do remember how you were shivering when we stopped at that high place in the mountains at night in Otee, where the air felt so good to me after the searing India heat that we had been experiencing down below, so I would have made certain that you were bundled up well against the cold.

November 19, 2009 | Registered CommenterWasilla, Alaska, by 300

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