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
Mar252011

Following The King's Speech, Jobe stands ready to walk

I did, indeed, break away from this desk, grab Margie, drive to town and go to the movie. We didn't even have to pay, because Melanie had given us a gift card to Century 21 in Anchorage for Christmas, so finally we used part of it. We saw, The Kings Speech, which I rather enjoyed.

Afterward, we headed to Jake and Lavina's. I knew that if Jobe had taken his first steps, we would have heard about. As we had heard no such thing, I hoped that he might take his first steps during our short visit.

Even though he cannot yet walk, he came out to greet us before we reached the door. Kalib observed from inside the front room.

Margie had grown almost desperate to see her grandsons again. Soon, she had Jobe on her lap, hugging and cuddling him.

Jobe noticed his grandpa.

Kalib ate jello with a spoon.

Then he stood on his dad's leg and did some cussing.

Actually, he didn't cuss. I just wanted to add a little drama to the scene.

I would have let you think so, but then I would have gotten in trouble with the female members of the family.

The males would all have been proud.

Kalib with his mom. She is cussing at him!

I JOKES! I JOKES!

I think I am in trouble now, anyway - even though I have clarified things.

Jobe spots Melanie coming and cusses at her.

Then Kalib and Melanie spot a neighbor carrying her baby to the car to go a nearby restaurant, where they will dine on raise\in and cucumber soup, with olives.

They do not cuss at her, because it is not polite to cuss at innocent neighbors.

Okay - time to get serious now. Learning to walk is serious stuff.

Next, I lay down on the floor between Jobe and the TV. I hoped Jobe might take his first steps, so that I could photograph the moment.

He stood, did not step, and then plopped down on his butt.

But he got right back up and stood again. Melanie came dashing over, excited to see where this action might lead.

Oh, boy! He is standing good! Will he walk?

He is contemplating it. I know he can do it. He's just got to decide he's going to and then he will.

"Go kid, go! Walk!" Muzzy give him some nose encouragement.

But he doesn't walk. He again plops down on his butt, crawls to his Aunt Melanie, stands up using her leg for support and turns to watch the TV, on which the movie "Up" is playing. Melanie covers his eyes. She thinks he watchs too much TV and does not approve.

 

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Reader Comments (3)

awwwww. he is just so cute!

March 25, 2011 | Unregistered Commenterdahli22

as a mother of two Boys I fought the cuss monster all the time, i don't think i succeeded ;)

March 26, 2011 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

dahli22 - Indeed, he is.

Twain12 - Yep. Cussing is just too fun for boys - and these days, lots of girls, too, I notice.

March 26, 2011 | Registered CommenterWasilla, Alaska, by 300

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