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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Tuesday
Mar162010

Shadow has no compassion; Tim is just about done; Metro Window Study; 8:14 to 8:28 PM, two days into Daylight Savings Time

This morning, I was feeling very sorry for myself, so I took a walk with shadow. It looks like shadow is lighting up a cigarette, but he's not. 

Even if he wanted to, Shadow couldn't smoke.

He has no lungs.

Shadow didn't care about my troubles.

Shadow was completely indifferent to my plight. Shadow gave me no pity at all.

Still, it helped to walk with Shadow.

Well, sort of. If you look at the bigger situation, it didn't help at all.

It just felt good to walk, that's all.

As Shadow and I neared home, I saw Tim standing in one of the door ways to the shop that he began four years ago and then got serious about just this winter.

I think he will have it done, soon.

At the usual time, I got into the car, turned on NPR and headed to Metro. I was surprised to see a new barista behind the window.

She was surprised to see me.

Her name is Tracey, and she was happy to pose with the old hands for:

Through the Window Metro Study, #2,372

At 8:14 PM, I pulled up to the gas pump. Remember not so long ago, when it looked like this a bit after 3:00?

We are now two days into Daylight Savings Time.

And here is Pioneer Peak and Pizza Hut, at 8:18 PM.

And here I am, on my way home, drinking a Dairy Queen strawberry milkshake, at 8:28 PM.

The Season of Darkness is definately over. We are about to enter the Season of Light. 

We are not quite there yet, and political time as opposed to sun time can confuse the issue, but we are very close.

Very, very, close.

Monday
Mar152010

We take Kalib to breakfast; Cars and snowmachines, ravens and airplanes

The check that I had been waiting for finally came yesterday, so I decided to take Margie and Kalib to breakfast at Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant this morning. From Friday night through Saturday night, Kalib was pleasant, happy and in good spirits.

Today, he seemed a little down and out. I think he surpassed his tolerance of being away from Mom and Dad. He did enjoy helping Grandma to sweeten her coffee.

He also seemed like perhaps he was coming down with a cold. Still, he did go exploring beneath the restaurant table.

Margie shared her breakfast with him, but he didn't eat much. He did drink most of his cranberry juice. Despite having received my check, I still paid for breakfast with a credit card. The money will not be in the bank until tomorrow and I did not want to suffer an overdraft charge for breakfast.

We do have a big auto-bill pay tomorrow. We will rush the check over in the morning, but I do not know if it will show in time to save us from whatever penalties the bank will be delighted to charge us.

Just before we left, I saw Melanie, not my daughter but the Melanie who works at IHOP, with her son Duncan. When he was just a baby, I photographed the two of them at Carr's.

After we got home, I went for a walk. Many cars zoomed by me.

In just two months, these bare trees will burst out in new green. Given how warm it has been this winter, the leaves might come out a little earlier than the normal mid-May.

But then April could be cold, so who knows?

Snowmachiners passed by on the left.

Two ravens flew overhead.

So did this airplane.

It has been a long time since I have cut through Serendipity, just because it depresses me so. But today I did. I stress again - I hold nothing against anyone who lives in Serendipity, but if you once had a place where you retreated every day that you were home, just you and your dog, to hang out with moose, bears, ravens, eagles and if you rarely ran into another person in that place and then one day they tore your woods down and it wound up looking like this and you could find no solitude there, it would depress you, too.

When I returned home, Kalib was waiting at the window for me.

Kalib and I.

Even though he now has one of my old fish tanks and gets to feed fish every day, Kalib always wants to feed the fish when he comes out.

He insists that his grandma come out and observe.

In the early afternoon, he carried his little stuffed muzzy to the car, along with his Grahamn Krackers. Uncle Caleb buckled him in and then Margie drove him home to Anchorage.

She said that she was not going to be gone long, that she would just drop him off and then come straight home. I have heard this before and I did not believe her. She stayed in town for several hours.

She reported that Kalib's mom was so anxious to see him that she came out the door even before Margie could out of the car.

Kalib was also overjoyed to see her, and Dad, too.

As for Margie, she looked very dejected when she got home about seven hours after she left.

"I sure miss Kalib," she said.

I have a great deal to do this week. Once again, I must push the blog to the back of my priority list. I will post every day, but lightly so - unless something happens that I just have to go all out on.

Sunday
Mar142010

Kalib at the beginning and end, Wasilla's Coffee Party in between, plus sled and snowmachine riders

Last night, I wrote that it was my intent to devote today's entry to the images I took of Kalib yesterday but did not post because I did the 12 studies on Jobe. I noted that one never knows what might come up but was pretty sure I would follow through.

Well, something did come up - nothing more important or more interesting than Kalib, mind you, but something that does have a bit of a time element to it, so I feel that I should put it up right now and hold the pictures of Kalib for a bit.

But I won't leave him out altogether.

When Margie and I came home last night, we brought Kalib with us. He checked out the tail of his old buddy, Royce. I wonder what he saw?  I doubt that Kalib has any idea of how much Royce has declined in the past few months, but maybe he notices something different.

I then spent a few hours here in my office, both working and goofing off on my computer, but finally I was worn out and so went back into the house. This is what I found. Margie and I then had a discussion as to whether we should push the coffee table next to the couch to make certain that Kalib would not roll off and then just let him sleep right here, or if I should carry him back to his old room and put him on the mattress that lies on the floor.

It was a cold night, well below zero and we had run completely out of firewood and were now warming the house with expensive electric heaters - including one that we had placed in Kalib's old room. It warmed it up quite nicely, so I carried him back and put him to bed.

By then it was 2:30 AM. Margie and I went to bed shortly after that, but we didn't go to sleep, because we had to keep double checking things to make certain that Kalib could rest undisturbed. We did not really settle down until well after 3:00 AM.

I had received an invite to a gathering Saturday morning at Metro Cafe at 10:00 AM. Even after I settle down, it usually takes me a good hour to go to sleep and then I wake up frequently, so I did not feel inclined to go to anything that started at 10:00 AM.

Worse yet, I came wide awake a bit after 5:00 AM and could not get back to sleep until after 7:00. 

There was no way that I was going to go a 10:00 o'clock gathering - not even at Metro Cafe.

About 9:00 AM, Jimmy reached out and lightly placed the claws of his right paw in my beard. This meant that he wanted to get under the blankets, so I made space and under he came. I then went back to sleep. Next, I woke up at 9:45, but refused to get up before 10:00, just in case I might find a way to sleep for another hour or two.

Come ten, I knew I wasn't going to sleep anymore, but I did not feel at all ambitious. I got up, but didn't hurry to do anything. I staggered lazily to my office, got onto my computer, checked to see that this blog had posted properly, read the comments, checked the number of hits, then went back in, mixed oatmeal with walnuts, blueberries and water, set it to cooking and then came back to my computer.

I checked a few other sites and blogs, including The Mudflats

There, I saw an announcement of "Coffee Parties" that were being held all across the USA, including one at Metro Cafe in Wasilla, with this explanation:

"MISSION: The Coffee Party Movement gives voice to Americans who want to see cooperation in government. We recognize that the federal government is not the enemy of the people, but the expression of our collective will, and that we must participate in the democratic process in order to address the challenges that we face as Americans. As voters and grassroots volunteers, we will support leaders who work toward positive solutions, and hold accountable those who obstruct them."

Oh, for hell's sake! Something like this was going on in Wasilla and I had stayed away just because I wanted a little more sleep? When do I ever get enough sleep? NEVER. Well, almost never. Maybe half-a-dozen times a year, after I've worked 30 or 40 hours straight.

I went back into the house and started to eat my oatmeal.

"Oh, hell," I said again (sorry, Riana), "I had better run up there. There's probably going to be a few people still hanging out." So I left my oatmeal to Margie and Kalib and off I went. 

I got there a few minutes after 11:00 AM. It was all over, but there were a few people still hanging around, chatting. Here are two of them: Bob, whose last name I do not know, at the left and Jay Cross at right. 

Among other things, Cross is a pilot and aircraft owner. If I recall correctly, he flies a Super Cub, but he might fly other planes as well.

I can't report on what they talked about at the meeting, because I missed it.

Do you know that I dream about airplanes almost every single night? 

The fellow on the left taking my picture is Philip Munger, musician and classical composer whose most recent work is Hindu Kush, an orchestral work dedicated to the mountain range of the same name between Afghanistan and Pakistan.

Munger is a Progressive activist blogger, and you can read what he wrote about the Coffee Party here. Munger writes that he made a joke at Sarah Palin's expense but was upbraided by another participant for doing so - and adds that she was right to upbraid him.

Apparently, it was more of a get-acquainted and plan for future get-togethers than a strategy session. 

At left is Sarah Welton, current Vice-President and former President of the Board of the Mat-Su Borough School District, Anne Kilkenny who wrote a very famous letter about Sarah Palin and Dianne Woodruff, who sits on the Wasilla City Council.

It was Kilkenny who Munger says took exception to his Sarah Palin joke.

This is Rosemary, who introduced herself to me almost as soon as I stepped into Metro. She told me she reads this blog every day. And right now, that is all I know about her - but that's enough to make me appreciate her.

Carmen was kept very busy. As I have noted before, Carmen runs not only a bipartisan but multipartisan business. Republicans, Democrats, Independents, Apathetics - all are welcome at Metro Cafe.

Bob, with a cup of Carmen's coffee.

This is Michael Janecek. He told me about his Maine Coon cat. This is a cat that I must photograph one day soon.

I lingered for awhile afterwards and visited with Woodruff. You might suspect that all those who participated would have been Democrats, but not Dianne. She has been a Republican, but lately has been put off by what has happened in that party, as exemplified by the likes of Rush Limbaugh. 

She says she would like to see people quit demonizing each other and instead to talk intelligently together, to discuss vigorously but thoughtfully, to seek to find solutions rather than to obstruct.

She said a lot more, too, but it is 1:30 AM and in half an hour it will be 3:00 AM, due to the leap to daylight time, so I will leave it at that and move on.

This is Carmen with her friend and former co-worker at Northern Air Cargo, Elaine Nisson. 

Right after Carmen introduced her, Nisson patted her flat chest and told me, "I'm tit-less Elaine." She lost both of her breasts to cancer.

She did not lose her sense of humor, or her will to live and persevere. 

I need to make it very clear that Elaine did not come to participate in the Coffee Party. She is a Republican and feels strongly about it. She came to be of assistance to her good friend, Carmen, who had a need for assistance this day.

The pink ribbon has become the symbol of support for women who must fight breast cancer. Elaine carries this one around with her. Carmen holds the ribbon in her hand, and Elaine holds the hand of Carmen.

Just before 4:00 PM, I returned to Metro Cafe so that I could buy a cup and have it in the car with me while I listened to the news. Elaine was still there, and I took one of my reknowned "Through the Metro Window" studies of her together with Carmen, but I will save it for another post.

Not long after I drove away, sipping, listening to the news, I saw some kids walking up a sledding hill, with mountains behind and blue sky above. I decided to stop and take a picture.

These three stopped, too, got out of their car and headed toward the hill. Before they reached it, Kelley and Kiara jumped on their sled and zipped down a smaller hill that leads to the base of the bigger hill.

This is the bigger hill. That's Kelley and Kiara, at the upper right, sledding down the hill.

This is a kid on a snowmachine that I passed on my way home. I passed him easy enough, going about 40-45, but he didn't seem to like being passed, because he really gunned it after that. In my review mirror, I could see him, and two boys on a second machine a short distance behind him tearing up the snow, bouncing over the many bumps, going airborne, seemingly determined to match my speed or maybe catch me and pass me up.

Then a couple of other snowmachiners came down the trail in the opposite direction, directly towards them and they had to slow down or crash.

Kalib and Royce, late Saturday evening.

Well, it's 1:55. In five minutes, it will be 3:00. 

That's it for this day.

Saturday
Mar132010

Twelve studies of Jobe on the day that he turned four weeks old (Kalib works his way in, too)

Jobe at four weeks, Study # 1: It had been too long since we had last seen Jobe and so on this, the day that he turned four weeks old, Margie and I shirked our various responsibilities and drove into Anchorage to visit him. Kalib was at daycare. Lavina had been spending all of her time inside the house, caring for baby, so we let her take our car and we stayed alone with Jobe.

Here he is, sleeping in his grandma's arms.

Study # 2: Sleeping in his grandma's arms, another view.

He begins to wake up.

He wakes up and cries out for milk. Margie hands him to me and then goes to the kitchen to warm up a bottle of momma's breast milk that Lavina left in the refrigerator. 

Now he is in my arms.

His little hand.

He brings his little hand to his mouth.

Margie returns with the milk, takes Jobe from me and feeds him. The bottle leaks. His pajamas get wet.

Margie lays him upon the changing table. Blue dolphins swim through the air above him.

After removing his wet clothing, grandma puts dry ones on him.

Having changed him, grandma smooths out his pajama collar.

Grandma holds and pats him as Kalib looks out at me from a picture that I took when he was within a week of the same age.

Jobe at four weeks, Study # 12: Back in his mother's arms. Before returning to the house, she stopped at daycare, picked Kalib up early and brought him home.

Kalib also starred in many shots after this. It is my intent to continue on with this day's take tomorrow, with the emphasis on Kalib.

But who knows what will happen between now and then?

Still, it is my intent. I'm pretty sure I will do it.

Friday
Mar122010

A pushing boy, a walking man, a mountain in alpenglow; the lovely Sujitha of Bangalore, who so badly wants to come to Wasilla

This morning, as I walked, I saw this little kid pushing his pedal-powered four-wheeler up his driveway.

And in the early evening, I saw this man walking past Wasilla Lake. In just three months or so, there could be young women in bikinis lounging about on that beach just to his right.

I'll bet some of you looked at this picture and didn't even know there was a beach there, or a lake.

Here I am, stopped at a red light on the corner of the Parks and Palmer-Wasilla highways, looking back at Pioneer Peak through my driver's door rearview mirror.

My niece, Sujitha, has been in this blog before and I am certain that she will be here again. She is a regular reader and every now and then she leaves a comment. She did yesterday, and she badly wants to come to Wasilla. She wants to meet Kalib, she wants to meet Margie.

She wants to meet all of her Alaska family. So far, she has met Melanie and she has met me.

I took these pictures, along with one of her and her true love, Manu, the day after the wedding of her sister, my special friend Soundarya, to Anil. In my 2009 review of May, I posted the one of Sujitha and Manu, but I haven't posted these.

Until now.

Sujitha, we all want you to come to Wasilla. So hurry up. 

Sooner or later, we want your whole family to come.

Here she is, with her grandfather, Natarajan. I took these photos in the Bangalore living room of Murthy and Vasanthi, the parents of Vivek, who married Khena, the daughter of my little sister and made us all family.

Here's Sujitha in that same living room nearly two years earlier, taking part in a women's ceremony for the Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth and Beauty. That's Vasanthi holding the flame and my good niece Vidya, who loves animals, behind.

Sujitha.

I have photographed but the tiniest hint of the magnificent nation of India, yet, I have so many images that I have never even had a chance to take even one look at myself, and I know there is some good material in there.

I still hope that in the future I will somehow find the time to go through, do an edit, and put up a whole bunch of posts.

If I do, I will mix it all up with Wasilla, just like I did here.