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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Sunday
Apr262009

It rained today in Barrow

I was the first one up this morning, so, very quietly, I put on my jacket and slipped outside to walk to Pepe's for breakfast. And it was raining! In Barrow, Alaska, on April 26! And then the temperature broke all heat records and topped off at 39!

In the years when I hung around up here regularly, you could pretty much count on temperatures being anywhere from about -10 or 15 to +15 or so right now.

The wind blew, hard. When I walked back from Pepi's, the rain had stopped. I could see open water out in the sea. Some whaling crews had already gone out, but with the rain, the warmth and the hard wind, they pulled back. The weather is improving now, though and at least a couple have gone back.

If conditions continue to improve, more will follow and a whale may well be landed soon.

There is thin, jumbled ice out there to make things dangerous and difficult.

Maybe some of it blew away with the hard wind.

This is Dawson, napping on Savik's snowmachine. People keep asking me if I have come to photograph whaling, but that was not my purpose this trip. If I had more time and if I were not still battling injuries that make driving a snowmachine or hanging onto a sled impossible, it would be different.

We will see.

As I was going into the store, Melba and her little son were coming out. She told me his name and I was certain I would remember, but I don't. I just have to start writing these things down. The old days are gone, but everytime, I think I can get them back.

And this is little Allen. He likes to hang out with me. His mom, Shareen, says she has never seen him take to anyone the way he takes to me - except for people his own age.

 

 

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Reader Comments (2)

I see you and Willie Hensley were mentioned on The Mudflats today. Nice going!

April 27, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMissSunshine

P.S. I also liked your pictures. You just can't miss with little kids and animals; they're just who they are.

April 27, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMissSunshine

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