A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

All photos and text © Bill Hess, unless otherwise noted 
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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
Mar062010

It was a Kalib-Jobe kind of day and it began at IHOP

I had a big day of work planned when I started to come to this morning, but Margie told me that Lavina had called and she was coming out with Kalib and Jobe. Lavina hadn't eaten, was hungry and wanted to meet us for breakfast at IHOP.

So I took a shower and then off we went to IHOP. We had not been there long before Kalib decided that the table was rather bland and so began to shake salt and pepper all over it.

His mom put a stop to it.

Kalib could have tripped the waitress and caused her to spill coffee and Pepsi all over the floor, but he didn't. Despite his mischievous, rambunctious nature, he must be a good boy, or else he certainly would have.

Jobe was with us at breakfast, too, but you couldn't see him because he was in his car seat and there was a blanket draped over it. Right after we entered the house, Lavina removed the blanket.

Royce observed. Wouldn't it be nice if Royce could raise another baby, just like he raised Kalib?

Momma and son. Do you think they have a connection?

Gramma and grandson. Do you think she loves him?

Margie bestows love on two grandsons at once. Caleb studies Jobe to see if maybe he has grown enough to begin to learn how to golf.

Caleb decides that, indeed, Jobe is ready to begin learning the fundamentals of golf. At the fundamentalist level of golf is a golf ball.

"Golfball," Caleb coaches. He documents the moment on his iPhone so that the technique with which Jobe observed the ball can be reviewed later.

Thanks to Uncle Caleb, Kalib already knows about a golfball and about clubs, too. He grabs a club and then his uncle hands him a ball.

Kalib studies the lay of the rug in preparation to make putt. Trouble is, he doesn't know where the hole is. He doesn't care. He will putt anyway.

Kalib raps the ball.

After scoring 18 holes in one, Kalib spots his mom outside, coming into the house. I don't know what she was doing out there, but whatever it was, I'm certain she succeeded at it.

A bit later, when I was working in my office, Kalib came out and wanted to feed my fish. I gave him a fish pellet and he ate it, then smiled mischievously.

Now grandma has Jobe again.

She looks into his little mouth and sees that there are no teeth in there, yet. That's good. It could be pretty tough on Lavina if there were.

Jobe goes down for a nap in the buckskin cradle board that his Aunt LeeAnn made for him.

He dozes to the soothing strains of Haydn, played on a classical cable station.

Kalib, by the window, eating a oatmeal chocolate chip cookie that Margie or Lavina or maybe both made while I was out mailing a package.

Kalib stands by his mom as she feeds his little brother. Lavina is very modest about such matters.

I could not believe it. Come evening, they left. I did get some work done today, but not as much as I had planned to. Of course, even when I work all day and all night, I never get as much done as I plan to.

This is Iditarod weekend. Lavina wants to watch dogs pull sleds tomorrow, but needs someone to babysit Jobe. Margie wants to hang out with Jobe.

How convenient.

You'll be seeing everybody again tomorrow.

A black cat is sprawled across my chest and has been for every word of this post. Somtimes, he touches the tip of my nose with his. His nose is wet and cold, as it should be.

He could pull a sled in the Iditarod if he wanted to, but he doesn't want to. He prefers to stay home and be warm.

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Reader Comments (10)

This post should satisfy all of those fans so addicted to Kalib. I'm glad you have your posts up and running by the time I hop out of bed in the morning. They make me smile.

Best photo today? "Momma and Son".

The cradle board makes me think of how I wrapped my baby girl 37 years ago, placing her in the middle of a cotton receiving blanket (single layer of cotton...I hated poly-cotton), and wrapping her snuggly inside, arms and legs well snugged. I figured she had been snug in the womb and she felt safe that way. It was when her arms and legs were flailing in the air that she did not feel secure. That cradle board does the same...makes baby feel safe and secure.

March 6, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterWhiteStone

Loved the picture of momma and son....oh how I remember those moments that seem just like yesterday. Precious.

March 6, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterSoutheast

Kalib thinks he will now grow fins?

Lovely photos.

March 6, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterMichelle

I surely do agree that the photo of Lavina and Jobe is just beautiful!

March 6, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterLynne

Bill, those were absolutely precious (wiping tears from my eyes). You have such a talent. You have captured what the rest of us never could. Remember all the posed shots and nobody co-operated? So much love....Lavina and baby is so touching. It's not the new camera...it's your God given talent to capture the moment! Thank you for sharing your family! I have 3 cats so can identify with them too. Know how your heart aches for Royce..his days are numbered but still so loved and you can see it in his eyes. You make my day! Thanks!

March 6, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterKathryn Mueller

Loved the whole of today's post, especially, 'Momma and son'.. :)

March 6, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterAsh

What beautiful pictures, what handsome children.

quidrock

March 6, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterquidrock

Oh, my word - I break for a few days and Kalib's almost grown!

What beautiful boys.

March 6, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterCynthiaC54

That little Jobe has such alert eyes. Like everyone else, the picture of Lavina and Jobe was my favorite.

March 6, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

hi its nanceys grand kid i love this blog its the best and u putt me in a blog so thnx.

March 9, 2010 | Unregistered Commenter10 year old girl

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