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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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« Margie and I take Kalib and Jobe for five days, part 2: We dine on Fourth Avenue hot dogs, where Kalib and I intimidate a security cop | Main | The black cat arises, no train passes by Family; the state of my in progress books; Melanie on St. George Island »
Saturday
Aug212010

Margie and I take Kalib and Jobe for five days, part 1: Kalib takes a bump

DateSaturday, August 21, 2010 at 12:42PM

Lavina had to go to a work-related conference in Las Vegas that lasts all weekend through Monday and Jacob took a couple days off work to go with her. Margie and I agreed to take care of Kalib and Jobe while they are gone. So, late Friday morning, I climbed into the Escape and drove off to Anchorage to pick Kalib, Jobe and Margie up and bring them back home to Wasilla. Remember - Margie has been spending her week days in Anchorage, babysitting Jobe.

I pulled into Jacob and Lavina's driveway and saw Kalib, greeting me through the living room window.

I went inside, where Margie and Kalib were watching something on the TV. Jobe was napping.

Soon, Melanie showed up. Lavina had left in tears early in the morning - something like 5:30 AM - because she did not want to leave her babies behind. After putting in a good morning's work, Jacob was going to catch an afternoon flight and Melanie had come to drive him to the airport.

As she waited for Jacob, Jobe awoke from his nap. She went and got him.

Soon, Kalib came running, laughing, to crash into his aunt, but he bumped his lip on the armrest of the chair. He began to cry.

Kalib cries, grips Melanie's hand and pulls it toward his wound. Jobe is unmoved by his brother's plight.

Kalib feels his wound and gives his Aunt Melanie a pleading look.

He studies the thing that hurt him.

Aunt Melanie extends a hand of comfort.

He looks up into her eyes.

Soon, the pain is gone. Kalib is happy, laughing again. He sees his aunt walking across the dining room floor and launches a surprise attack.

After striking from the back, he cuts in from the front.

The attack comes to a joyful end.

Next, Melanie is amused by Jobe.

 

In my next post, which could go up in as little as half-an-hour and as much as four, five, six, seven or more hours from now, we will see Kalib golf, we will all go downtown, where Kalib and I will intimidate a cop, to eat hot dogs.

I don't know how many posts this series will include. Seeing as how we have these two until Tuesday afternoon and tomorrow we expect to see some dinosaurs, it could be several.

 

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AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment2 Comments |
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Reader Comments (2)

there is nothing better than to read about those sweet boys, looking forward to all the adventures

August 21, 2010 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

Oh a wonderful family.

August 21, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterMichelle

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