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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« 2009 in review - March: Kalib's first steps; ashed by Redoubt; Benson's final bow as Elizabeth Peratrovich; Iditarod dogs; cast off, brace on; little people at Gar and Emily's wedding | Main | 2009 in review - February: Kivgiq - dancers come from across the Arctic; Kalib behind the window »
Tuesday
Dec292009

Today in Wasilla: I find the children of Russian immigrants, sledding on Tamar

I think by nature they are friendly and open, as children usually are. I do not know the circumstances that brought their parents out of Russia and into Wasilla in the mid-90's, but they seemed to come with a bit of reticence, a suspicion towards outsiders. 

When they first arrived in the neighborhood, our Alaskan sled dog husky, Willow, was still with us and she would always accompany me on my walks. The Russian children all loved Willow, and would come rushing out to see her when we would walk by. In particular, there was a certain, freckled, boy with reddish-blond hair who completely adored her and he was very gregarious and outgoing.

I would have guessed his age to be five or six.

Sometimes, he would follow along with us for a ways, talking, asking me all kinds of questions about Willow, petting Willow, holding her leash.

There would be other times when he would be happily talking to me when the man that I took to be his dad would spot him, and call him back. 

There would be other days when he would be happily talking to me, petting Willow and then, suddenly, he would stop, look around, see nobody, get a worried look on his face and say, "I've got to go now." He would dash back to the house.

And then there would be still other days when he and the other children who loved Willow would stand a distance back in the driveway, nod at me and quietly say, "hi!" and "how's Willow?"

Sometimes, they wouldn't say anything at all.

I could see the desire in their eyes and faces to come out and visit Willow, but they didn't move. They stayed put. So I knew that their parents had warned them away.

Several families got together and, doing the work and labor themselves, built new houses, big houses, moved out of the smaller ones they had been renting and into the big ones, just a short distance away. 

In time, the gregarious, freckled boy became a teenager. Sometimes, I will still catch a glimpse of him, in a car or out on foot or fourwheeler and he will nod, making perhaps just the hint of a smile.

And usually, when I come walking and see the new crop of small children playing in the distance, they are gone by the time that I get there.

But today, they were sledding, having fun and they stayed.

This one, the oldest out today, asked me what I do with the pictures and I told him about this blog. "Okay," he said.

After they reached the bottom of the hill, they turned around and came back up again.

Some day, I hope to get to know their parents and gain their trust. Perhaps these pictures might begin to open the door with them. We will see.

This, by the way, was not really a job for the new s90 pocket camera, but it is the only camera that I carried, so I had to make it do.

And to be honest, that is part of the fun of these pocket cameras - to make them do in situations that they are not suited for, situations where you need a rapidly-focusing, rapidly-firing camera, but you do not have one so you make the pocket camera do.

 

As for my 2009 review, I hope to have March up in a couple of hours. It might take me a little longer, because I might decide that I want to leave this one at the top of board for just a bit more.

Two hours doesn't seem long enough.

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Reader Comments (5)

A beautiful little short story as could only be written by Bill Hess. Fascinating people the suspicious Russians with their happy faces. Also loved the photos below at the dance festival. Every culture loves its dance. And now even you dance! Okay, gotta hightail it to my support group on the coldest day of the year. I should complain. For you Alaskans it's tropical weather - a freezing 22 degrees. I wear layers. My PJ bottoms go under my jeans. Happy blogging!

December 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterRuth Z Deming

A nice story, nice pictures. Gees. Did you ever think about writing a book?

December 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

Bill,
You did it again. What a wonderful post. Love the closeup of the boy in red hat..what a joy on his face, actually on all their faces, absolutely priceless. Makes me want to be a kid again!!!! I hope these children get a chance to see your photos it would mean so much to them. Having grown up under communism I understand the parents. I sincerely hope you will meet and show them that they have nothing to fear. Your post brings back a mixed bag of memories for me.......Thank you.
By the way, there are always unexplained forces at work. Today it snowed in Texas again, and Debbie saw a Robin on a snow covered tree branch in Pennsylvania. Hallelujah! Hope is in the air...always.

Take good care, funnyface

ps please thank Lisa for working so hard to elect our President Obama

December 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterFunny Face

December 15, 2009 entry.............Leo and Naza invited me to stop at their house anytime. So, sooner or later, I will do just that.

Now there is an invitation to start breaking down the barriers. They also should see themselves in print...and experience the same feeling as I did when you acknowledged me (little ol me). Can't explain how blown away I felt. Could have knocked me over with a feather even though I was sitting down. I am sure Leo & Naza would love the intimate moments you caught of them through your lens during their outing. You need to get a card that you can give people after you take their photo and impromptu interview. Spread the joy and good will!! Bill Hess the Goodwill Ambassador of Alaska.
Awfully tempted to order a batch....know how to get help from google.

December 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAnonymous

I agree with FunnyFace about the little boy with the Red hat on! His emotion is really captured well and that is how I spent many of the days sledding in Wyoming as a youngster. Thanks for the smile you put on my face today. Also I was listening to a song that came on shuffle on my Ipod as I was looking through the new entry by Margaret Whiting called "The Way You Look Tonight" and it was amazing how the song fit with the blog's latest entries! Check it out people, I am not joking it was great, just like the blog itself! T

Thanks again Bill!

Charlie

December 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterCharlie

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