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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
May072010

Budding artist in school bus; Wasilla's quiet condos on the edge of the Alaska wilderness; four kids walking

DateFriday, May 7, 2010 at 11:00AM

This is one of those days when I had a fairly extensive post planned, but I can find no time to post it. So I will hold off on that material and post it tomorrow, by which time I may or may not have my car back from the shop, and do short, quick, simple post.

Who knows when I can get my car back?

For those of you who fear the economic impact I will face by having my car in the shop for major repairs - don't worry. It is all under warranty.

Anyway, yesterday, as I waited in the Kendall Ford temporary replacement car at the left-turn lane at stoplight, this kid rolled past in a school bus and looked right at me.

I am quite certain that this kid is an artist with latent talent of the highest calibre. I am equally certain that, one day in the not terribly distant future, he will be enrolled at the nationally prestigious Girdwood School of the Highest Kind of Hiigh Art and, as instructed, he will open up his electronic textbook to page 32 and there, he will see this photo highlighted as the supreme example and the highest Highest Kind of High Art.

He will look at it and say,

"I find something oddly familiar about this picture - almost like I was there when it was taken."

He will get a large print of it, hang it on his wall and it will inspire him to endure the trials of a long and tormented life in pursuit of art and to go on to create the second-greatest Highest Kind of High Art ever produced.

Wasilla's most exclusive, quiet condos, built on the edge of the Alaska wilderness, directly across the Parks Highway from Dairy Queen, McDonald's, Pizza Hut and Wasilla Lake.

If only I could afford to join them, I would live here, too!

Four kids walking, as seen in passing from my Kendall Ford temporary replacement car. More on this tomorrow. It is an exciting and earth-shaking story - one you will not want to miss.

AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment4 Comments |
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Reader Comments (4)

I wouldn't want to live there (no offence to anybody that does)
Throughout my husbands military career we lived in row housing and apartments, over all not a bad experience but i prefer my quiet and privacy now.
Hope you get your car back tomorrow !

May 7, 2010 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

Oooh. I do so love earthshaking stories. Except when it is my earth shaking. Then it sort of sucks.

May 7, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

I am stunned to see people casually walking in the forzen tundra in sandals, and you never bothered to mention this stunning development. Sarah Palin was right- give people health insurance and they will just waste it putting themselves at risk.
Furthermore I wanted to note that in many communities across the lower 48 one rarely puts high end condos next to the railroad tracks.
More pictures of Carmen smiling please.

May 7, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterconchscooter

Twain - I have a good story on the car and with everything else that has been happening, I haven't had a chance to tell it yet. It is starting to get old now, but maybe I will tell it, anyway

Debby - And here we are, right in the midst of one of the most powerful, active, earthquake zones in the world.

conchscooter - I also didn't mention that they frostbit their toes and had to get them amputated later in the day.

I am certain I will have many more pictures of Carmen smiling. She smiles a lot, even when facing tough situations.

May 9, 2010 | Registered CommenterWasilla, Alaska, by 300

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