Top
A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

All photos and text © Bill Hess, unless otherwise noted 
All support is appreciated
Bill Hess's other sites
Search
Navigation
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.

Blog archive
Blog arhive - page view
« Margie and I take Kalib and Jobe for five days, part 4: We walk with dinosaurs | Main | 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 »
Sunday
Aug222010

Margie and I take Kalib and Jobe for five days, part 3: We bring them home, Kalib phones a kiss to his far-away mom, they grow sleepy

DateSunday, August 22, 2010 at 12:20PM

In time, we arrived home. Jobe was happy to be here, but I know he misses his mom. See that bottle on the table? That is her milk. I don't know how she managed to provide a supply for the whole five days that we will have Jobe with us, but she did.

Love, I guess.

As I was working on my computer, Kalib came into my office to feed the fish. Soon, Margie came in with the phone. It was Lavina, eager to talk to her eldest son. Kalib took the phone and looked at it. He heard his mother's voice.

Kalib didn't have much to say, but he gave her a kiss over the phone. Did you feel it, Lavina?

In the evening, Jobe grew very sleepy. Margie put him in the Apache cradle board that his great aunt LeeAnn made for him. He fell asleep.

Jobe, asleep in his cradle board.

Caleb returned home. Kalib was overjoyed to see him.

Caleb and Kalib. As usual, Kalib insisted that we turn the Christmas lights on.

Soon, Kalib grew tired, too. 

We all grew tired. We all went to bed. Margie and I didn't really sleep all that much, though, as Jobe kept waking us up. I remember how hard it was when our children were babies and we had to get them through that time when they would wake us at all hours with needs that had to be met. It was hard and I longed to sleep. It seemed at the time that there would never again come a night that we could sleep all the way through. Yet, such nights did come - and, oh, so rapidly.

Jacob and Lavina go through this on a daily basis now, yet still get up and go to work.

It was tough last night, too. I just wanted to sleep. Yet, what I now know is what an honor and privilege it is to be woken up at night by a little person fully dependent upon your care.

Soon, some of us will go see some dinosaurs. Margie does not think she will go. She plans to stay here with Jobe.

 

View images as slide show

(pictures appear bigger and look better)

AuthorWasilla, Alaska, by 300 | Comment5 Comments |
in , , , , , ,

PrintView Printer Friendly Version

EmailEmail Article to Friend

Reader Comments (5)

Bill! I met a lady today who worked for the Anchorage newspaper. She's met you (although she doesn't know you). She lives down here now. I asked what lured her away and the man at her side said, "It was love." She said, "Actually I couldn't stand the dark winters." But they look as if they are a happy couple, so maybe it was love after all.

August 22, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

Hi Bill,
I just wanted to say Thank You for this blog. I have been reading for quite a little while now. I have a "Kalib" in my life to whom I am like Marge I plan on being here forever for my little guy.
I don't comment much but I am here when you post your new stories.

Thanks again
Dusty

August 22, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterDusty

Awesome three part story.

August 22, 2010 | Unregistered Commentervivcraig@juno.com

We miss our babies so much! Thank you for being such loving grandparents to them! Almost time to come home. Please hug & kiss them for us & tell them that mommy & daddy love them so much! Thx

August 23, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterParents of the boys

I just love seeing the little boys!

August 23, 2010 | Unregistered Commentermocha

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Post:
 
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>
Alert
Comment Moderation Enabled
Your comment will not appear until it has been cleared by a website editor.

Notify me of follow-up comments via email.