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
Oct232010

It's all Kalib and Jobe, all the time... A lion roars in Africa, then sleeps through the Alaska night

Yesterday, I drove into Anchorage to visit a friend who had come down from Barrow for medical care. Afterward, in the early evening, I stopped by to visit Kalib and Jobe, who had just returned home with their mother.

Not long after I arrived, their dad pedaled up on his bike, home from work. He stopped at the mailbox, then looked up a Kalib, who was looking at him.

The two greet each other.

Lavina was amusing Jobe.

As he waited for his dad to get situated and come in, Kalib decided to give Jobe a hug.

Kalib can get a little rough, but Jobe didn't seem to mind.

He pushed it to the edge.

Then Kalib needed a hug from his mom.

It turned into a rather nice group hug.

Dad came in and took a seat on the floor. Kalib jumped onto his lap to play. As noted, Kalib can get a little rough.

Dad gets rough right back.

Just a bunch of ruffians!

They invited me out to dinner at Taco Kings, so Kalib and I headed to the car so that he could ride with me. It was growing dark, darker than it looks in the picture. I had to push my ISO to 6400 and shoot slow shutter speeds.

Kalib and his blanket.

Kalib prepares to jump.

Dinner at Taco King. I had a bowl of chicken soup, chips, and water.

Then I brought Kalib and Jobe home with me. Jobe fell asleep right away. I kept thinking that Kalib had fallen asleep, too, but every now and then I would hear his little voice rise through the dark, "bus! bus!" Kalib loves buses.

I had the radio tuned to KSKA, to a program where they play contemporary music from around the world. As we drove through the dark, they played a Ladysmith Black Mambazo rendition of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." It begins with the roar of a lion, and then the soothing voice of Ladysmith speaking as though to children, telling them a story, as the choir softly sings acapella in the background. Then she sings the song... "hush, my baby, the lion sleeps tonight..."

As I drove through the dark Alaska night toward home with my little grandsons in the back seat, one asleep, the other looking for buses, the car filled with sweet sounds, spawned by grave danger, sounds from Africa.

At that moment, it seemed to me to be the most beautiful song that I had ever heard.

It was exquisite. 

After I got home, I googled it and came up with three Ladysmith versions, including the one I had heard, which I link to here. I put my headset on and listened to it maybe five times, mesmerized. It is playing right now, even as I type.

I went to iTunes, hoping to purchase it and put it in my iPhone, but iTunes did not have it.

 

View images as slide show

they will appear larger and look better

If go to the slide show and do not see a picture, but just a box that says, "thumbnail processing," click on it anyway and the first slide will appear. This is just another Squarespace aggravation. Hopefully, within the next few days, Squarespace will finish processing the thumbnails and the pictures will appear. With Squarespace, you never know.

 

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Reader Comments (4)

Try this link for the Lion Sleeps Tonight
http://beemp3.com/download.php?file=8246177&song=

October 23, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterOldnhappy

your post made me smile...great group hugs, so much love

October 23, 2010 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

I love too catch up on how my nephews are doing! Sending lots of love to them all the way from St. George.

LAURIE

October 24, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterLaurie Dash

Hi Bill

Been reading your blog for a year or so now. I simply love your descriptions of your life and surroundings. I feel the warmth of your family - there is nothing better in this life.

I'm a South African living close to Wasilla and today I was especially touched by your choice of music. That song, 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight' is a favorite of mine and has been since I was 10 years old and performed in a school play in Springs, South Africa. I played one of the village children around the campfire described in that song. It is also called 'Wimoweh', beacuse of the continuous back up sounds.

Thank you for the memories and have a wonderful Sunday :)

Tanya

October 24, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterTanya

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