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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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Friday
May282010

I eat a tasty Apache-style green burrito, then happen upon two strong Apache women

DateFriday, May 28, 2010 at 10:44PM

I have a HUGE amount of material to blog. Hundreds of photos. Thousands of words to write. But I've got to go to bed, so we can get up early and head to the dance. And I am exhausted.

So out of the huge amount of material I have, I chose what I figured would be the easiest and quickest to get up and post. I will come back to the rest later.

As to the easiest and quickest, whenever Lisa comes home to the reservation, she must get her Friday lunch at Tailgate. That is a gathering that takes place in the parking lot at Basha's where vendors come to sell Apache frybread and beans, Apache burritos, Apache tortillas, Apache tamales, Apache hamburgers and Apache Rice Krispy treats.

So we went and I ordered an Apache Green Burrito with all the trimmings and it was so good that, even though I was full, I went back to the tent where I had bought it to buy another but they were sold out.

Margie has a cousin who works at a fitness center a short distance away, so we walked over there to visit her.

I found this kid just outside the door, hefting these barbells.

He assured me that, when the conditions are right, he can put them over his head.

Shortly thereafter, this lady, Charla Dazen, came by. With the help of the guy standing behind her, she strapped these weights to her back and took off running.

I should add that it was pretty hot. I don't know how hot, but quite a bit hotter than it was in Wasilla.

After she pulled the weights around for a bit, she flipped this big tire, said to weigh about 250 pounds, over three times.

After she finished with the tire, she picked up 70 pounds worth of weights then sprinted away with them. Then she sprinted back, still carrying them.

Then she went and grabbed a barbell. Do you think she was strong enough to put it over her head?

She certainly was giving it a good effort.

Yeah! She did it! Three times in fact. It took her a minute and 11 seconds to put herself through the whole course.

As it turned out, last summer Charla won the Strong Woman contest at the White Mountain Apache Tribal Fair, where she dead-lifted 315 pounds over her head and bested her opponents in a strength-testing, five-part, obstacle course.

And this is my cousin-in-law, Janis Joplin, hefting strong baby Jobe inside the weight room. Yes, Janis Joplin lives - although we call her Buffy. The first time I met Buffy, she was a tiny girl in the back of a pick-up truck and she was buried in crawling, squirming, squeaking puppies.

The last time that I saw her was right after Jacob and Lavina's wedding a little over four years ago. We did not know it then, but she was about to undergo a hard fight against breast cancer.

She is doing good now.

Buffy is a strong woman.

AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment3 Comments |
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Reader Comments (3)

what great pictures and i'm glad to hear that Buffy is doing good now. I'm amazed at Charla specialty in this heat.

May 29, 2010 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

is it true? i never hear yet........

May 30, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterclippingimages

It's miss univers :)

May 31, 2010 | Unregistered Commentergreg

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