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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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« I put my mind back into India - and to Wainwright, where Jason Ahmaogak and the Iceberg 14 Crew landed a whale today | Main | Meanwhile, back on Sarah's Way in Wasilla... (I will return to the wedding and India, shortly, after one more Wasilla-Palmer post) »
Friday
Jun052009

Float plane landing on Sarah Palin's lake, and other Wasilla scenes: will soon continue the India series

DateFriday, June 5, 2009 at 2:28PM

I am so ashamed of myself. This blog has nothing to do with our former Mayor, present governor and ambitious woman traipsing about the nation in preparation for 2012, but I figured if I put "Sarah Palin" in the title, someone might google her name and wind up on my blog.

Not only that, the lake the airplane above is landing on is not her lake at all; she just happens to live on it. It is called Lake Lucille and it belongs to all of us Alaskans - even to you who are not Alaskans.

But don't try to get on Lake Lucille by passing through Sarah Palin's yard.

I don't know if she has a mean dog, but if she does, it might bite you.

The picture was taken through my windshield as I drove down Lucille Street.

A fence and imitation well on Gail street. We have a well in our front yard, too, but it doesn't look like that. We don't have a fence. I don't want a fence. I hate fences.

My next door neighbor has a fence. He put it up so that he would not have to look at my wrecked airplane.

Speaking of which, I saw this Citabria for sale at the Palmer airport. I had a doctor appointment at 4:00, but had to wait until 8:00 PM to see the doctor. I got bored, left the doctors office and drove to the Palmer airport to see what kind of airplanes might be for sale.

And here was this Citabria. Looks almost like the Running Dog once did.

Look at that! $28,000! When I saw that number, my hopes rose. But then I read that part about the fuselage and windows showing their age. Plus the part about the engine and prop "still" passing annual. And nothing about time on the engine or prop. I figure that means they must be high time and so soon will have to be replaced or rebuilt.

So I reckon that once this Citabria is purchased and put into good working order, the buyer will have spent anywhere from $45 to $60,000.

Hell. There's no way I can afford that.

In fact, there's no way that I can afford $28,000.

Yet, seeing this airplane gave me hope and still does.

I don't have $60,000 today but that doesn't mean I won't on another day.

And if I get it, I will buy me a good airplane and Margie will shrug and sigh and think of all the things that she could do with $60,000, but she will love me anyway, and she will smile, and be happy to see me take off and then later buzz the house and then come in for a landing.

That's how it used to be around here.

That's how I want it to be again.

And when it becomes that way, you will see this blog turn into something, because Alaska will once again be mine.

And here is a dog that was at the doctor's office when I returned. I was officially ahead of him in line, but still, he got in to see the doctor ahead of me.

I didn't see it for myself, but I'll bet she petted him.

She didn't pet me.

How come?

Despite suffering two flat tires since I returned from India, my bike works pretty good. I took this picture as I pedaled past this kid.

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