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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Tuesday
Aug112009

Charging momma pitbull gives me a big scare

Not long after I set out on my walk, I saw three dogs in the distance, advancing towards me, side by side, a white pitbull in the middle, a beagle to its right and a smaller black dog whose breed I could not determine from that distance to its left. They looked tough, like a gang - a gang coming towards me.

I was only sorry that my little pocket camera does not have better telephoto capabilities, for I figured that if I could zoom in close on them coming like that, it would be a neat picture. "Three toughs," I imagined the title.

The beagle soon chickened out, but the white pit kept coming as the black dog fell in behind it. It quickly drew closer and began to bark and growl ferociously. Even as it advanced, it made little spring-board hops up into the air that made it seem all the more vicious. I have had a couple of bad run ins with pitbulls, including a white one that used to live in a house in the direction from whence this one came.

That house had been sold, but now I wondered if the dog came along with it. I took a couple of worthless pictures, but the pit just kept coming, growling, barking, snarling, the black dog on its heels. I figured it was time to prepare my defense, so I let the camera dangle and I picked up a BIG rock, big enough to crush a skull with, and then a second, just in case the first didn't do the job.

Usually, if a dog is bluffing at all and you pick up a rock, it will back away.

The pit kept coming, undeterred. I took that to be a bad sign that this was one of those pits that will attack through any pummeling or pain and go straight for the throat. I saw that it had lactating nipples. The black dog was its pup.

Geeze! How could the situation get any worse?

And then, as the pit drew nearer, I caught a certain glimpse of longing in its eye, a certain tremble shook through its body that belied the viciousness in its bark and growl. This pitbull only wanted love. It was raising a fuss just because it was afraid it might not get love - but love was what it wanted.

I cast my rocks aside. "Hey, silly puppy!" I spoke soothingly. "Come on over here! Let's be friends."

She stopped her bark and growl. Tail wagging lowly, she came running to me. I patted her on her head. We were now friends.

She and her pup followed me for awhile, romping and playing all the way.

It doesn't always work this way with pitbulls, but this time it did and I was glad.

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Reader Comments (5)

I use to have a very large pit bull. He was the sweetest thing, but he looked scarey to people. They would go across the street from us when I took him for a walk. When they did he would throw himself to the ground and start to cry, his whole body would shake. He was also very funny. He loved cats, but mine hated him. He tried to make friends with a cat one day and it scratched his eye. He had to go to the vet. It is all about how they are treated.

August 11, 2009 | Unregistered Commenteraspiecelia

Dad~
Muzz & I have meet this pit bull on a couple of occassions, she is quite submissive. I had to DRAG Muzz away, I think she spied Muzz as a potential suitor.
~J

August 11, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterJfH

This pit bull seems to be very different from the usual mommies... I sat straight, curious to know what happened after you picked the rocks.
Glad it was a happy ending!

August 11, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSandy

Her name is Tequilla and the pup is Rocky. Both are American bulldogs. Their temperment is very different from pitbulls. They are family/farm dogs bred for chasing cyotes and wolves from cattle and sheep. She is very sweet but protective and will quiet quickly when talked to. I am sorry she scared you but glad you gave her a chance. The beagle isn't mine but he visits several times a day. even following her into our house. She is fond of him and jumps the gate when we aren't paying attention. Sorry she was running around. She likes people and loves to run. If you see her wandering about again please call. Time isn't important. 907-209-7508. Thank you!- Malia, Tequilla and Rocky. By the way if you see a pug with her that one is mine too. Her name is Lolita. You are a good dog lover!

August 12, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMalia an

This is just the sweetest thing. As a pitbull lover.... I am glad to have come by a story with a happy ending: )

July 13, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterLauren

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