A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

All photos and text © Bill Hess, unless otherwise noted 
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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
Jun242011

Four little people at Metro Cafe join me to launch this blog into summer retreat mode

Readers who were with me then will recall the great water battle that Kalib and Jobe got into when they stayed with us over Memorial Day weekend, when the temperature rose into the upper 70's. That kind of heat has not struck us again since. We have had days in the 60's and other days that never rose out of the 50's but no 70's.

Yet, yesterday was sunny and bright and pretty hot - upper 60's I'd say - and by the time I had pedaled my bike to Metro Cafe I had worked up a good sweat and so ordered an icy mocha frappe with a touch of raspberry, which I consumed outside on the patio, because it was entirely too hot to drink hot coffee and it was entirely too hot to sit inside.

On the patio, I was joined by these four: Reagan, Charlotte, Isabel and William.

"What's the matter, tough guy?" little Reagan challenged with a grin as he saw me sweating and drinking my frappe. "Can't handle the heat? Can't drink hot coffee? Got to retreat to a frappe?"

"We'll take ours black! Black and hot!" little Charlotte shouted out to Shoshana from her place in the stroller, next to Reagan. "We're real Alaskans!"

Shoshana then brought them each a 24 oz. hot, black, coffee. They each then lifted their coffees to their mouths and guzzled down every steaming drop in just 2.8 seconds.

"Another round!" Isabel shouted to Shoshana. "And make it hotter this time!"

The second round was guzzled equally fast.

"Good stuff!" William exuded. "Ten more rounds of black - and one more frappe for the sweaty guy!"

"Oh, dear!" their mother, who genuinely did tell me that she brings them to Metro at least once a week, sighed. "So many diapers!"

 

And with this, I launch this blog into the retreat of summer, 2011. I do not want to. There are few things that I enjoy more than blogging and the old world of print publishing is rapidly dying for me. I need to figure out how to do this.

So I don't want to retreat, but I have no choice. The burdens weighing upon my time now are huge. For the rest of the summer, I am going to try to restrict this blog to one picture per day, possibly two, perhaps three.

Except maybe once a week, or once every ten days, or twice every two weeks, I might see if I can work in a full-fledged post of many images - just to keep the idea alive.

Through this retreat, perhaps I can make it to fall, and maybe by then I can figure out how to start this blog and my online picture-story telling presence into what I want it to be.

With just one picture, there is no point in doing a slide show, but when there is only one picture, a simple click on the image will reveal a larger copy.

 

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Reader Comments (6)

Thanks for todays picture and giggle; and for all the enjoyable reading you've provided in the past. Looking forward to seeing future adventures and blog incarnations, till then,

"Take time to recharge your batteries. It's hard to see where you're going when your lights are dim." -- Robert H. Connelly

Happy Summer! Happy Retreat!

June 24, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterJersey Babs

I hope your work goes smoothly. I haven't commented recently, because a huge storm tried to knock down all the trees in our woods on our house, but only partially succeeded. Our summer will be a bit busy as well. Wish we could keep our temps in the 70's, because it will be close to 105* in a very few weeks.

June 24, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterKathryn

Seems only fitting that we hear a bugle.

http://usscouts.org/mb/bugle/retreat.mp3

Recharge! We'll catch you when you get a minute.

June 24, 2011 | Unregistered Commenterdebby

we'll be here :)

June 24, 2011 | Unregistered Commentertwain12

No worry, you never disappoint and I'm incredibly patient and addicted to you & your blog. Take it easy & have a great summer.

June 25, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterKat

Thank you, All - that bugle was just right, too.

I appreciate the patience and, ultimately, a big part of this retreat is to free up time from blogging so that I can figure out to better blog and tell stories and display photos online in the future.

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