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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Saturday
Aug152009

President? A carpenter looks for work; signs that Wasilla's summer has reached its end

I simply could not bear the thought of eating a sandwich and can of soup for lunch today, plus, I figured that if Margie felt up to it, I really ought to get her out of the house, as she had spent the whole morning and early afternoon sitting in one spot. 

"You up to getting into the car and going somewhere for a fast food lunch?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. 

So off we went to Carl's Jr.

After a scrumptious meal eaten from inside the parked Escape, watching cars go by, we prepared to leave. As we neared the exit onto the Palmer-Wasilla highway, I saw this guy, who, judging by his sign is a carpenter looking for work.

I was hoping that I would reach the corner just as a horde of traffic came barrelling down the highway, so that I would be forced to stop right by the man and then I could interview him through the passenger window as I waited for a break in traffic. I rolled the window down as we drew near. The capenter saw my pocket camera and hid his face behind his sign.

"I'll put you on my blog!" I shouted through the window, as I rolled by as slowly as possible. That seemed to catch his interest. He lowered the sign away and exposed his face, as if he were ready to be photographed and interviewed. Unfortunately, there was a break in the Palmer-Wasilla Highway traffic and there were several cars behind me and he drivers all wanted me to pull out onto the highway so they could, too. Not only could I not conduct an interview, but the pocket camera takes a full second to recycle and I did not have a second to wait.

So I had to zip out onto the highway without even taking a second picture, one that would show his face.

"We should hire him to fix our toilet," Margie said as I sped away.

Maybe. But we really can't afford to, right now, and once I am on the road, I do not like to turn around and go back in the direction from which I just came.

And how would I check his credentials?

I hope he got some work, though.

What does he mean, "President," at the bottom of his sign? 

Maybe he is the President of his company. Maybe he doesn't like President Obama. Maybe he likes President Obama. Maybe he means that not only can he do carpentry work for you, he can be the President of your company. Maybe he has just launched his campaign for 2012.

I don't know.

I wish I could have done that interview.


 

 

They say that when the fireweed blooms at the very top, our summer has reached its end. For any reader who may be unfamiliar with fireweed, all those purple stems were once blossoms. The ones at the bottom would have bloomed in mid-July, when I was on the Arctic Slope and then they moved their way up.

Now they have reached the top, so summer must be over. It felt like it today, too. It was so cold in the house that we had to turn the heat on for awhile.

Still, I wore a t-shirt when I took my walk and the cool air felt good to me. 

And here is another sign that summer is ending. Green remains the dominant color in the deciduous trees, but more and more yellow is appearing and soon the green will all be gone.

And here is still another sign. (In a comment added after my post, OmegaMom, who knows her mushrooms, suggested that I separate the above photo of what she identified as an amanite mushroom from the following discussion of Portabello mushrooms, lest some innocent person should become confused and poison themselves.)

I had a portabello burger at Carl's Jr. Oh, my goodness! It was good! No other fast food restaurant that I know of makes a burger to match Carl's Jr. In fact, very few restaurants do.

I was also reminded of when I first became aware of portobello mushrooms. I was down in the Lower 48 and portabellos were being touted as a delicious meat alternative. Some people were eating steaks and lobster. Others were eating portabello mushrooms. I told the server that I wanted the steak, the lobster and the mushroom. He scowled and said it was one or the other. 

So I ate the steak and lobster, then came back for seconds and got the portabello.

Now you can buy a portabello burger at Carl's Jr. that combines mushroom and meat and it is wonderful.

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Reader Comments (3)

Amazing! Maybe the guy wanted us to vote for him as the next President? If so, he should be a very confident & an efficient man...

Looks like you are happy about summer coming to an end?

August 16, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterSandy

Yup, autumn is upon us, and it's not even September yet! School starts tomorrow.

Just an suggestion: Maybe you could move that amanite mushroom pic away from your discussion of portobellos? Someone who doesn't know might think that amanite was a portobello, and that would be Very Bad Indeed.

August 16, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterOmegaMom

Thank you, OmegaMom. I have followed your suggestion.

Sandy, I am never happy about summer coming to an end - although I do enjoy seeing the fall come, and winter, too, It just gets long, sometimes, whereas summer is short.

So short.

August 16, 2009 | Registered CommenterWasilla, Alaska, by 300

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