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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Entries in Kalib (242)

Saturday
Apr162011

iPhone shadow portrait of Margie and I approaching the movie theatre; Kalib and cousin Gracie, cooking eggs down in the Navajo Nation

Sometimes, no matter what one is working on, the soul begins to feel overwhelmed and kind of dead from hours and hours and days and days and weeks and weeks and months and months and years and years of time spent sitting where I sit right now, peering into a computer screen.

It happened last night. My soul became overwhelmed to the point that I simply could do it no longer.

The only thing that I could think of was to go to a movie. But I did not want to drive to Anchorage, the new theatre they are building in Wasilla looks complete but is not yet open, the older theatre here is tiny and sticky and awful and one can get proselyted there and it is no place to go for an enjoyable evening of relaxation.

I checked online to see what was playing in Eagle River, but the indication was that the Eagle River threatre was closed for some reason.

So I did not know what to do. I just did not want to drive all the way to Anchorage, where we still have another free movie coming at Century 16 - thanks to Melanie.

But then Margie argued that we could just drive to the very edge of Anchorage - the close edge - where stands the new Tikahtnu Stadium 16 theatres and pay for the movie ourselves. We would not really have to drive into Anchorage at all. It is not that hard of a trip just to drive to the edge of Anchorage if you do not then venture in to the wild and wooly city.

So that is what we did. Without even checking to see what was playing and at what time, we just got in the car and drove. We left Wasilla about 7:20 PM and arrived at the theatre about 8:00 PM - right between the main showing times.

So we bought tickets for the 9:15 pm showing of Lincoln Lawyer, and then went walking into the nearby new mall, which neither of us had explored, found a place called PHO Saigon, and went in. We ordered an appetizer of 3 spring rolls and one noodle plate, which we shared between us.

I didn't take any pictures, because I had left my camera hidden in the car, but the food...

I'm going back!

Really good.

Then, a few minutes before nine, as we walked back to the theatre and on the wall I saw us, just like this.

And me, without my camera! Then I remembered that my iPhone has a perfectly decent little camera and so I did the self-portrait.

We enjoyed the movie, too. We ate too much popcorn - especially after PHO Saigon.

This morning, I was awakened to the sound of text messages coming into my iPhone. Lavina was sending me pictures and a movie from Shonto, Arizona, in the Navajo Nation of Kalib teaching cousin Gracie how to break and cook eggs.

So here they are, and I am pretty sure that is Elias looking on.

I then got out of bed and came into the kitchen wanting eggs, but Margie already had steel-cut oatmeal cooking and it was just about done.

So I ate it and it was good.

I still have a hankering for eggs. Maybe for lunch.

 

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Sunday
Apr102011

Kalib rocks in the canoe, Jobe rocks on the piano and then they are gone; fantasies of life as a dedicated and successful "Grampa Blogger"

Yesterday, I posted but one picture and a bit of text, noting that even as I did so, I was hearing the sounds of Kalib and Margie outside and I wanted to go see what was up.

After I made that post, I went outside and this is what I found.

Kalib, in the tiny remnant of this season's pitiful snowfall - perhaps the least that we have seen in all of our 30 winters here.

I mentioned the sound of him tapping a canoe with a stick? Actually, he was filling the old, green, Coleman canoe with rocks. We must drain this water out of it soon, before it becomes a breeding place for mosquitoes.

We kept the boys with us all day so that Jacob and Lavina could accomplish all that they needed to accomplish before they had to go to airport to board the plane and begin their trip to New Mexico/Arizona. We brought the boys home a bit after 8:00 PM. 

Jacob was still at work, working on a project he had to complete before leaving. Lavina still had much to do, including some shopping.

So Margie and I told her we would come right back after we a paid a visit to Larry Aiken at the hospital. 

That is what we did - although Larry was in deep and needed sleep and never knew we had come.

Soon, Jobe was rocking up a storm on his little piano.

My goodness! This tot has talent!

Those were actual notes that he played, several at a time.

The boys with their mom, not long before their dad came home. I think this would be a good one to make black and white, but I don't have time right now.

This morning, the rock-filled water in the canoe had frozen over. Lavina sent me a text from LAX, where they have a long layover before continuing on to Albuquerque. "Kalib loving all the planes... he's screaming "jet" for all to hear!"

For awhile, I was getting worried about whether or not Kalib was ever going to start talking. It seemed to me that it was taking longer than it ought to. But now he is talking all the time.

I cannot understand everything that he says, but I understand a lot.

Like, when we drove them home the other night, the light turned yellow on us at the awkward time - the time when you are not sure if you should continue or stop, because it is that close. I decided to stop, and so stopped quickly.

"Gosh, grampa!" he said.

Then I bought him an ice cream cone at McDonald's and handed it over the seat back to him. It was kind of stretch and I did not know if he could reach it.

"Can you get it?" I asked.

"I get it," he answered. And he got it.

Last night, just before we left them, his dad had returned. They had been playing with a toy shark maybe three inches long, but it disappeared.

"Damnit, Daddy!" Kalib swore.

This time, I'm not teasing, either.

That's really what he said.

"Damnit, Daddy!"

Damnit, anyway. Now they are gone and I am not going to see them for at least three weeks, maybe longer. Maybe a month. They will only be gone for two weeks, but I will be gone when they get back.

Sometimes, I think maybe I should just drop all other ambitions and be a full-time "Grampa blogger." There's lots of "mommy bloggers" out there, you know, and at least a few of them have figured out how to make a very good living doing it.

If I were a grampa blogger, I could be at LAX with them right now, waiting to board the flight to ABQ. 

And then I could go tag around with them in ABQ. I could then follow them to Lavina's childhood home in the Navajo Nation, where they are going to help shear sheep. Oh, the photos I could take! Next, I would follow them to the White Mountain Apache Res, where grandma is going to go down and meet them, too; where everyone but me and a few billion other people will get together in Carrizo Canyon on Easter Sunday, have an Apache style cookout and hunt Easter eggs.

These are the kinds of things that I could be doing, right now, with my grandsons, if I were a dedicated and successful Grampa blogger.

I think my love and dedication for and to Alaska ought to be clear to anyone. But I would really like to be there for that sheep shearing. I would really like to be there for that Easter Egg hunt. And one time, in Albuquerque, Lisa and I paid a visit to the acquarium.

Oh, my goodness! Kalib is going to go nuts when he sees those sharks swimming around! "Shark! Shark! Shark!" he will be hollering. Jobe will watch the sharks in quiet fascination. He will study their every move and gesture.

And if I were a dedicated and successful Grandpa blogger, I could catch it all.

And then we could return to Alaska. Jobe will really be walking by then. We could go hiking. We could go canoeing. I could begin to show my grandsons this great place they call Alaska. I could take them to Prince William Sound when the Copper River King and Red salmon come in; I could take them to the Arctic Slope to witness the landing of a whale by their large adopted family, onto the Yukon to see fishwheels turning. We could do it all, my grandsons and I - if I could but be a dedicated, successful, Alaska Grampa blogger.

I wonder why I never thought of this before?

 

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Wednesday
Apr062011

Jobe's stepping out party, finale: Kalib wields a big knife and cooks cajun; bull rider, wild daughters, et al, Friday... Friday... Friday

Although there is more that I could do with it, it is time to wrap this party up. If I don't, Jobe will be jogging through the park with Muzzy and I will still be blogging about his first step stepping out party.

So, anyway, here is Kalib, wielding a big knife to cut up a patato for the soup that he is cooking, Cajun style.

It kind of scared me to see Kalib wield such a big knife, but Jacob closely monitored and oversaw every movement.

After putting the potatoes into the soup, Jacob chopped up some fresh seasoning. Kalib scoops it up.

Kalib throws the seasoning into one of the three pots of stew being cooked.

Kalib chucks shrimp into one of the other pots. It splashed on my lens and I had to take some time out to clean it.

After I cleaned my lens, I was headed back to photograph Kalib adding the final ingredients, but I was distracted by a rodeo bull rider in the hall. The bull rider was Kalib and Jobe's cousin, Ashley Bismarck Atene. The bull was Muzzy.

When I finally made it back to the kitchen, I found that the final ingredient, crab, had been added to the mix. For any readers who do not know, Charlie works for an air freight company that hauls goods around Alaska. The crab were part of a shipment that came in from Nome and Charlie was able to pick the crab up at bargain basement prices.

His work done, Kalib observes as Lisa and Bryce arrive.

Lisa hugs her mom as Jobe shows off his walking toes and chubby hands.

My daughters went wild. Lisa pulled up a video on YouTube and they sat there laughing at it, mocking it. Bryce and Charlie joined in. I had to know what it was about. They said that it was the worst video ever made and that, as such, it was now the most popular video in all the world.

So I took a look and this is what I saw, this girl and other girls and an older guy, even, singing about Friday. Friday, Friday, Friday. The worst thing about it, my wild daughters said, is that once you hear the song, you cannot get it out of your head and from then on you will just be hearing, "Friday, Friday, Friday..." over and over in your mind until you go insane.

Maybe if you are young, gullible and impressionable this would be true. But for a more mature, seasoned, disciplined brain like mine, it proved to be no problem. The song did not stick.

His grandma had been holding Jobe, but Friday he wanted to try to do some more walking.

Friday...

He walked to his Friday Aunt Lisa - but he used the Friday couch to cheat a bit.

Friday... Friday... Friday....

He Friday walked to his Friday mom.

Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....

Then it was Friday time for Friday Jobe to go to bed. He became a Friday shark.

Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....

And Friday Jake suffered a Friday shark attack.

Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....

Ashley's  Friday parents had been to a Friday  movie, but they Friday came back to pick Friday Ashley up in time to eat. So here they Friday are: Friday Julie Bismarck, Anthony Friday (Ants) Atene and Friday Ashley. Ants is Lavina's Friday brother. He came up from Friday Arizona a few years back Friday to visit and work and that is when Friday he met Julie, who is Athabascan Friday from Tyonek.

Since then, their Friday lives have been Friday divided up between the Friday Navajo Nation and Friday Anchorage.

Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....

This is Julian, Friday their youngest, close Friday to Jobe's age. He slept the whole Friday time I was there.

When I came home, I left Margie Friday so that she could babysit Jobe. Last night, Friday, I went back to pick her up, Friday Friday but Jobe was not feeling well, so I  Friday again returned home by Friday myself.

Depending on how Friday Jobe is feeling, I will go back and Friday pick her up tonight or Friday not.

Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....Friday... Friday... Friday....

 

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Monday
Mar282011

It was a Jobe-Kalib kind of day

I had thought that I might go somewhere Sunday, but I felt extremely lazy and Kalib and Jobe had come to the house with their mom so I decided to stay put and hang out with them.

Here is Margie and Jobe at breakfast - breakfast being eggs, hashbrowns, spam and wheat pancakes.

I guess Jobe must have proven too irresistible to his grandma. Regular viewers will note that something is different, here, than in the past. In the past, in such a situation, Jobe would invariably have been focused upon the grandpa that he adores.

Now he is looking elsewhere. At what?

It was the movie, How to Train Your Dragon. I was in Barrow on February 12 when Jobe turned one, but the family took him to The Bear Tooth that day to see this very film on the big screen while dining on pizza. I am told that he sat transfixed all the way through it - this despite the fact that by then, Kalib had already viewed the movie 2,392 times on the TV and Jobe must have picked up on some of that.

Jobe remains transfixed by the movie, but, still, he does not altogether ignore the presence of his grandpa.

As for Kalib, he has now seen this movie 5,969 times - and he watches it again - intently, because one never knows what might happen, this time.

"Yay for the dragons!" Dragons are really good guys, you know - gentle at heart.

After the movie, Jobe turned his attention to the little vacuum cleaner.

Jobe and the vacuum cleaner.

I kept thinking that this was the day he was going to take his first step, and I kept my camera ready.

He didn't take it. Undoubtedly, he will already be walking the next time I see him and I will have missed that first step. I hope his parents get to see it.

What if it happens when he is at daycare?

 

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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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