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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Friday
Apr172009

I look through Little Miller's kiosk and see someone look back at me; poets on hold for one more day

Today, I took my coffee break at the drive through on the south wall of Little Miller's. When I drove to the window, I looked through and saw these two, and the guy looked back at me, with suspicion. They got their order before I did. I hoped that he would then come over and ask why I took their picture, so that I might learn their names and get a meaningful observation from them.

But they just drove away.

How would it be, to be young, and to drive away with a beautiful young woman at my side?

That used to happen. It was wonderful. Nothing was more wonderful than that. And now that beautiful young woman is aging and when she sits beside me as I drive, it is wonderful. If you were to ask me what my most enjoyable experiences of the last few years have been, I would put my long drives with Margie at my side right up at the top, along with hanging out with little Kalib (yes, my children, to hang out with you is most special, too).

But since she got hurt January 17, she no longer sits beside me. She needs the entire back seat to support her leg. She cannot stay in the car very long as it leaves her in too much pain.

Now, I must leave for awhile. Day after tomorrow. Who will drive for her?

Yet, I must go, as you will understand when you get to the bottom of this post.

On my way home, I detoured, to extend the drive. Along Shrock Road, this dog trotted by, going the other way. 

Right now, I sit at my computer as "Alaska News Nightly" plays on KSKA, our public radio station. The story is how the recession appears ready to smack tourist based industries in Alaska. Cruise ship bookings are down. They just interviewed a man who depends upon cruise ship passengers to make his living. He felt grim.

That's the Catch 22. I don't want anybody to lose their job. I want those who have no job and need one to find one.

Yet, the places in Alaska where cruise ship passengers congregate are much nicer when the cruise ship passengers are not here. It's a fact. Much nicer. And they are here during the nicest time of the year. Such a short time.

Cruise ship passengers, please do not take offense! Buy your tickets and come and visit our great land, with not only my blessing but my invitation. This land belongs to you as much as it does to me.

It's just one of the conumdrums of this life. The more people who come to enjoy a wonderful place, the less enjoyable that place becomes.

There's nothing to be done about it, but to accept it - and to get a new airplane when I can, so I can go to where few tourists travel.

Yet, I have $150 in my wallet, $19 in my checking account and not a dollar in savings. How can I buy a new airplane?

I could use some of that cruise ship passenger money.

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Reader Comments (3)

Bon Voyage!

If you are leaving for Bangalore, I hope the air pollution is not a issue with you. Enjoy the great food. Be careful when traveling after dark. Have a small amount of money in one wallet, enough for that day, and the rest of your money someplace safer.

April 18, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMissSunshine

Bangalore is not until next month. This trip will be to Barrow and hopefully other points north.

April 18, 2009 | Registered CommenterWasilla, Alaska, by 300

Wow, Joan Baez is playing on Last.fm and I thought of your picture (Little Millers truck girl), very nice!

April 18, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterChris Gibbs

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