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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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Thursday
Apr162009

For you, Danny...

DateThursday, April 16, 2009 at 9:18PM

When Caleb was growing up, his best friend was Danny Elmore and he lived in this house with his family, all of whom were excellent people to have as neighbors. Never have we had better neighbors than these.

Danny has become a regular follower of this blog, and yesterday he made a special request that I photograph his old house and post the image here, as he has not seen it for awhile.

So today, I did, from my bicycle, with my pocket camera, as I pedaled by.

I shot other pictures today, too, but I am exhausted; beyond all reason, so this will do it for today.

I did work on another post today, one about a couple of poets, and I did place all of the photos, but I need a clear head to finish it and my head is not clear right now. The story behind those poets is a special one, and rather amazing. So I have put it on hold for at least one more day. 

Hey! You people out there who know how to sleep at night - what is the secret?

AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment3 Comments |
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Reader Comments (3)

Thanks Bill! Besides the color it has not changed a bit. I really appreciate it. Wow what memories. I think my brothers and I and your boys played 1,000's of wiffle ball, football, and street hockey games here over the years....THANKS.

April 17, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterDanny Elmore

Where the Elmore Boys were built. I expected something darker and creepier.

April 17, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterShreekar

Bill,
You asked how to sleep.
Try Melatonin... About 5mg for starters.
It's cheap and natural and it works.
It just replaces the Melatonin that our bodies don't make as we age.

April 22, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSteve Fox

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