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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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« Half moon rises over Wasilla; black cat waits in the house; Kalib moves out, part 5: after a bit of exploration, he joins his family in the dining room | Main | Wasilla today: Three dogs act tough from the other side of the fence; Alaska awaits; car crash. Kalib moves out, part 3: Lisa amuses him with the big, red, inflatable ball »
Tuesday
Dec082009

Kalib moves out, part 4: he blows his nose, then flushes the tissue down the toilet; Wasilla today: At high noon, a short man casts a tall shadow

DateTuesday, December 8, 2009 at 4:03AM

You will recall that Lisa used the big, red, inflatable ball to take away Kalib's tears. A bit later, he switched his attention to a small, Spiderman basketball. But the little fellow was very tired, had missed his nap and was more than a bit cranky. Soon, he was crying again.

Grandma invites him into the bathroom to help her place the no-slip bath matt in the tub. This pleases him. 

After the matt is placed, Kalib blows his nose into a Kleenix. Grandma instructs him to toss it into the toilet. Then Grandma tries to stop him as he thrusts it in instead. She is too late. His hand goes all the way down to the water.

Oh well. Soap and water will kill any germs he might have picked up.

Kalib flushes the toilet and sends the snotty Kleenix swirling.

"Bye, bye!" Kalib says, as he waves to the tissue just before it gets sucked under.

Today in Wasilla, I took my usual walk. Very quickly, I came upon this sign that marks our street as Sarah's Way.

When I was in India, come high noon, my shadow would completely hide beneath my feet. Here in Wasilla, in late fall, my shadow falls very long. You would think I was tall, instead of short.

As I walk down Tamar, a school bus passes by on Seldon.

Car passing by on Seldon. Hey! That face looks familiar! I can't be sure, so I won't identify or misidentify the person, but maybe.

I do not know this guy at all. I am certain of it - the guy driving, that is. I do know the shadow. That is me. I am The Shadow.

Having fun on a snowmachine.

AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment5 Comments |
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Reader Comments (5)

Kalib saying bye-bye to the kleenix was just sooo... cute.. I laughed out loud at the picture :)

December 8, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterAsh

That Kalib is a mighty lucky little fella. Most folk are enjoying Kalib in all these pics but I also notice that he has some very loving family in his life. That is a good thing indeed.

December 8, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterWhiteStone

Gabbas always cast a tall shadow no matter what their height is. Hope you feel better today.

December 8, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

Funny -- in my mind, you are at least 6 feet tall!

December 8, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterGrandma Nancy

I've never thought about your height at all! Only the joy you take (and share) in your family. Having Kalib (and his parents!) move to their new home is so bittersweet. But I do know he's one lucky boy because of the love he is surrounded with!

December 8, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterManxMamma

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