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
Jun262009

Point Lay: the day before the first bowhead feast in 72 years (part 1 of 10)

Point Lay whaling captain Thomas Nukapigak shows pictures of the whale that he and his crew helped to land to his nephew, one-year old Uavauq, also known as Jason. The whale was struck by the Atkaan crew, captained by Julius Rexford.

At the very moment Atkaan struck, Nukapigak and crew were closing in to take a whale of their own, but as soon as they heard Rexford's voice announce his strike over their VHF radio, they turned away from that bowhead and went to help him land his whale.

Other members of the Nukapigak crew ride on a fourwheeler driven by Thomas's brother, John. Except for one couple, Warren and Dorcas Neakok, Point Lay was abandoned after World War II, in large part because of the federal "Indian Relocation Program" that sent many of their residents to California, Chicago and elsewhere in an attempt to assimilate them.

After the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act passed in 1971, former residents began to move back, but their numbers were too few to resume the bowhead hunt. Then, when a conflict with the International Whaling Commission resulted in a bowhead quota in 1977, ten Alaska villages were recognized as traditional whaling communities. 

Point Lay was not one of the ten and so did not get a quota.

Sadie Rexford, Julius's mother, lives in Barrow but came over to help prepare the feast. She cooks "Eskimo Donuts," highly prized around here.

About ten years ago, Nukapigak and Rexford decided it was time for Point Lay to start whaling again, and began to petition to have Point Lay recognized as a whaling community. Their claim was questioned, as some doubted that Point Lay had ever hunted bowheads, but Dorcas Neakok had letters dating back before World War II describing whales landed by the people of Point Lay and telling of her own actions in hauling the meat and maktak back to the village by dogsled from the landing site.

In 2008, Point Lay was finally recognized as a whaling village and was alloted a quota of one whale.

I went out with them in the spring of that year and it was a great time, but no whales were landed. I might have been with them this year when they landed the whale, but they did so on the very day that I left for India.

But I am here now, for Nulalatak, the whale feast, which will take place Friday, June 26.

The feast has not even begun, yet I have already eaten several of Sadie's donuts. "Help yourself," she invited. And so I did.

This is Julius Rexford, the captain of Atkaan, and he gives Lloyd, who had long hair when I went hunting with them and when last I saw him at Kivgiq in February, a teasing pat on his now bald head.

Kuoiqsik, who was in the boat with Nukapigak getting bombs ready when they helped land the Atkaan whale, with Amy.

When I took my big fall in Barrow on June 12 and shattered my shoulder, Kuoiqsik was there. He is the one who accompanied me to the emergency room in Barrow and stayed with me until the doctors sent him away.

That meant a great deal to me. I will always be grateful. Kuoiqsik graduated from high school this spring and plans to go to the University of Alaska, Fairbanks, come fall.

A little boy whose name I do not know. He was at the site where preparations were being made for Nalukatak.

Amy again.

Little girl and little dog.

I took many more pictures today and have not even downloaded one of the two cameras that I used, but it is already one-hour and 34 minutes into tomorrow and I have other tasks that I must do before I go to bed.

Tomorrow will be a big day. Actually, tomorrow is already today, but you know what I mean.

At least I got a sample of today up.

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Reader Comments (4)

awesome as usual! i was happy to see the Anchorage Daily News posted a link to this in the Alaska Newsreader. Thank you for covering this Bill!

June 26, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterdahli22

THIS IS SO AWESOME BILL!!!! THANK YOU FOR POSTING AWESOME PICTURES!!! SPECTACULAR DESCRIPTION OF EACH PHOTO!!

THAT WHOLE WEEK WAS AWESOME "AMII"?!

July 15, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterWillard

so awesome...... another killing of a rare animal.

June 4, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterbob

I lived in Point Lay in 1997 and helped the Episcopalians there establish St. Alban's-in-the-Arctic. Your photos brought me to tears as I wondered who was still alive, and whose children, or grandchildren, are in your photos. God bless you for bringing 'my village' to life on the internet. My name is Allunqaaq--'to breath'.

January 11, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterMarjorie Bevans

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