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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Monday
Mar152010

We take Kalib to breakfast; Cars and snowmachines, ravens and airplanes

The check that I had been waiting for finally came yesterday, so I decided to take Margie and Kalib to breakfast at Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant this morning. From Friday night through Saturday night, Kalib was pleasant, happy and in good spirits.

Today, he seemed a little down and out. I think he surpassed his tolerance of being away from Mom and Dad. He did enjoy helping Grandma to sweeten her coffee.

He also seemed like perhaps he was coming down with a cold. Still, he did go exploring beneath the restaurant table.

Margie shared her breakfast with him, but he didn't eat much. He did drink most of his cranberry juice. Despite having received my check, I still paid for breakfast with a credit card. The money will not be in the bank until tomorrow and I did not want to suffer an overdraft charge for breakfast.

We do have a big auto-bill pay tomorrow. We will rush the check over in the morning, but I do not know if it will show in time to save us from whatever penalties the bank will be delighted to charge us.

Just before we left, I saw Melanie, not my daughter but the Melanie who works at IHOP, with her son Duncan. When he was just a baby, I photographed the two of them at Carr's.

After we got home, I went for a walk. Many cars zoomed by me.

In just two months, these bare trees will burst out in new green. Given how warm it has been this winter, the leaves might come out a little earlier than the normal mid-May.

But then April could be cold, so who knows?

Snowmachiners passed by on the left.

Two ravens flew overhead.

So did this airplane.

It has been a long time since I have cut through Serendipity, just because it depresses me so. But today I did. I stress again - I hold nothing against anyone who lives in Serendipity, but if you once had a place where you retreated every day that you were home, just you and your dog, to hang out with moose, bears, ravens, eagles and if you rarely ran into another person in that place and then one day they tore your woods down and it wound up looking like this and you could find no solitude there, it would depress you, too.

When I returned home, Kalib was waiting at the window for me.

Kalib and I.

Even though he now has one of my old fish tanks and gets to feed fish every day, Kalib always wants to feed the fish when he comes out.

He insists that his grandma come out and observe.

In the early afternoon, he carried his little stuffed muzzy to the car, along with his Grahamn Krackers. Uncle Caleb buckled him in and then Margie drove him home to Anchorage.

She said that she was not going to be gone long, that she would just drop him off and then come straight home. I have heard this before and I did not believe her. She stayed in town for several hours.

She reported that Kalib's mom was so anxious to see him that she came out the door even before Margie could out of the car.

Kalib was also overjoyed to see her, and Dad, too.

As for Margie, she looked very dejected when she got home about seven hours after she left.

"I sure miss Kalib," she said.

I have a great deal to do this week. Once again, I must push the blog to the back of my priority list. I will post every day, but lightly so - unless something happens that I just have to go all out on.

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Reader Comments (4)

Solitude is harder and harder to find...every time i see corporations wanting to develop what little unspoiled land we have i get depressed . I guess that is what we Humans do, spread out and take over :(. I hope Margie gets to spend time with Kalib again soon

March 15, 2010 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

i live in juneau and we have salmonberries and a may tree that are starting to leaf out. weird. they're a month ahead of schedule.

March 15, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterdahli22

Sad that the woods are disappearing. It's like that here, too. If they're not in a park (of which we have many, fortunately), they're fair game. And for what do we need another mall or subdivision? There's no shortage already.

Sigh...

March 16, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterCynthiaC54

Bill: You can't piss and moan about the new subdivision when you have as many kids as you do.

March 22, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterKary

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