By-passed scenes from closing days of 2008: After being misrepresented and dissed on the Daily Show, her life moves on; a frightening face; light, shadows and footprints - both human and dog

I am a fan of The Daily Show. Even as this satirical romp makes me laugh, it also brings out larger truths that the real news media - especially cable news media - just flat out falls short on. If the Daily Show must sometimes take artistic liberty and even lie to get at that truth, I can understand, as their purpose is to create satire and comedy, not to report news. Yet, it still seems to me that what they did to Patti Stoll after they sent Jason Jones to Wasilla was unfair. She is not at all the person that one might think after watching the Daily clip on Wasilla.

A day or two before 2008 came to an end, I took a walk and soon found Patti, her hair highlighted by a nice fringe of frost created when her breath brushed her golden locks as it passed through the -24 degree (F) air. She was doing the same thing I was - walking. I have been running into Patti for decades. Before the developers took over the woods now known as Serendipity, tore down down the trees, cut out roads and built houses, I would be going one way on my cross-country skis and she would appear coming the other way on her's.

In the summertime, we would sometimes cross paths on foot as we walked opposite ways on wooded trails originally stamped out by moose. Other times, we would meet as we pedaled our mountain bikes up and down the roller-coaster hills. Always, we would stop and chat awhile. We still do, but now we meet along the road, or on the paved bike trail that runs alongside the extension of Seldon that was so recently punched through the woods to better serve the good people of Serendipity and anyone else who wanted to get to Church Road a little faster. 

I often affectionately refer to Patti as "the fit lady," because she always keeps herself in the best of shape and is not deterred by a little chilly weather. She does some amazing things - recently, she sailed the length of the east coast from the Carribean to Canada.

I asked about her Daily Show experience. She told me she had done a two-hour interview with Jason Jones, who had been very nice and had treated her with respect throughout. He had asked her what seemed to be serious and thoughtful questions and she had answered in kind. After two hours, he suddenly brought up the subject of drug abuse in Wasilla with one the healthiest-minded people in the community. 

The Daily Show editors then ignored the entire two-hour interview and zeroed in only on the drug-use portion, and even that was selectively edited and organized to make both her and Wasilla look as ridiculous, pitiful and foolish as possible. Also, she told me, the incredulous reaction of Jason Jones as he supposedly reacted to her words was taped later, then spliced in to appear as if that was how he had actually responded when it was not. It appears that he really put her on the spot.

And there were other liberties taken. In one scene, Jason Jones is shown walking down the divider between the north and south bound lanes of the Parks Highway while pretending to be walking down Wasilla's Main Street - kind of like placing a reporter in the middle of Highway 95 where it passes through Manhattan while talking about Broadway at Times Square.

Still, the underlying fact is that, to suit her political purposes, Wasilla's former mayor, Alaska's current governor and recent Republican Vice-Presidential candidate also depicted Wasilla to be an entirely different kind of place than it is.

As for Patti, she has shrugged the experience off as just something odd that caught her in the midst. No big deal. Although she may have to travel a little further from her house than she used to to get to it, there is snow to be skiied over and trails to mountain bike. There are oceans to sail.

After I took Patti's picture, I wondered what I looked like. So I turned the camera back on myself. Now I know why little kids scream, cry and flee when they see me coming. 

Also as I walked, just before New Year's, I came upon shaft of light that had traveled down the road known as Tamar. The time was about 1:00 PM, which is just about solar noon here. At its zenith, the sun was high enough to find its way down the road, but not high enough to reach over the tree tops on either side of the road.

I walked a ways up that shaft of sunlight, then turned around to see what it looked like behind me. I saw that the legs in my shadow had become very long, yet my shadow body was very short.

Someone walked through the marsh with a little dog, which perhaps turned around and ran in the direction from whence they came.

I had one more picture from late last year. It is of the insurance adjuster who works for Progressive, the company that insured the vehicle driven by the kid who rear-ended me the night before Christmas eve.

For the past two days, I have been suffering the the misery of shopping for a car to replace our faithful but now totaled Taurus. I have at least one more day of such misery to suffer through. Every now and then, as I suffer this ordeal, I lift my G10 pocket camera and take a snap. So I will photo-blog the experience. I will begin tomorrow, with the picture of the Progressive insurance adjuster.

Uncle Ted: On one of his worst days, an image from a good one; A dog I met as I walked today

Senator Stevens, "Uncle Ted," in Kaktovik (ANWR), 1986:

This was the day that Ted Stevens, who has served Alaska in the US Senate for 40 years, conceded the election to Mark Begich, Mayor of Anchorage. I thought perhaps I would write some wise words, about how this is both such a sad and happy day for Alaska, to go along with this picture, but I will leave the words of wisdom to the pundits and editorial writers. 

I have taken many pictures of Senator Stevens over the years, in various places in Alaska and Washington, DC as well, but this is the one that I think of first when I hear him referred to as "Uncle Ted."

The boy is John Lampe of the Iñupiat Eskimo village of Kaktovik, the only community within the boundaries of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. 

John is a man now.

Read Stevens departure from the Senate in the Anchorage Daily News

Late this morning, I encountered this dog on Tamar Loop:

By now, it should be obvious that I encounter many dogs when I go walking - some friendly, some not. I encountered this one today - trash pickup day in my Wasilla neighborhood. The dog was loose and I do not know where it lives.

As the dog approached, I could tell that it was happy to see me.

The dog stopped. I acknowledged it.

The dog then continued on its way.

Sarah Palin keeps popping up on the TV, dogs, cat, fourwheeler, boy, house, library at sunset

Everytime I came within sight of a TV today, Governor Palin was on it. One thing that I find a little odd is that since I came to Alaska nearly three decades okay, I have met every governor, except one; I have photographed every governor for publication, except one; I have interviewed the majority of the governors.

Of course you figured it out. The one governor that I have not met, photographed or interviewed is Sarah Palin, the one who lives in the same town as me, the one whose father was a substitute teacher to my own children.

When I got the idea for this blog, I did not even think about Governor Sarah Palin, only about documenting life in Wasilla, getting to know my community a little better while still getting away from it from time to time, and of experimenting to see if I could create a new kind of platform for my work, which has always been print based.

So, I thought that one day, when the time was right and I had the time, I would start the blog. Then Governor Palin became VP candidate Palin, and even though the time was still not right and I had very little time to spare, I decided I had to launch.

I suppose it is inevitable that I will photograph her one day. Perhaps I will interview her, too. True, I voted for Barack Obama and there was much about Governor Palin's campaign that greatly disturbed me, but the Anchorage Daily News endorsed Obama-Biden and she still gave them an interview, just the other day, when she let them into her house as she prepared dinner.

Here are some other Wasilla scenes that I saw today, when I was out and about without a TV in front of me:

Man riding a four-wheeler.

Charlie, the frisky pup who I first met yesterday.

Charlie again.

Varmit, the tiny cat who hangs with Dan, a camera-shy but friendly disabled veteran who I often talk to when I go walking.

Another dog.

An under-construction house in upper Serendipity. This just makes me sad. For over 20 years, these woods were mine, and I was not in the field, I was in them daily, walking, skiing, mountain biking. Then this damn Serendipity development comes along and now I must stay out of the woods, walk on roads, with houses all about. There is no place to pee. Back then, a person could pee anyplace he felt like.

A boy in the post office. His mother has dropped something on the floor. They looked good together and I wanted to photograph them together, but by the time she picked whatever it was she dropped up, I was being waited on, and had to give my full attention to the clerk.

The Wasilla Library, as I found it when I came out of the post office at 4:30. I heard this library mentioned by Governor Palin a number of times on the TV over the past couple of days. She cited it as an example of the absurdity of all the untruths circulated about her during the campaign. One of the rumors that she cited was the falsehood that she had banned books - even Harry Potter - from this library.

As I recall, she never did ban a book, but she was reported to have asked the librarian if she would be willing to ban books. The librarian said, 'no.' Sarah Palin fired her. This resulted in a community uproar and Sarah Palin hired the librarian back. No books were ever banned. 

A quiet vote on a noisy day in Wasilla; New York series still on hold

After marking the names of the candidates of her choice, Margie casts her ballot. Now I will back up just a few minutes.

Our polling station is at Tanaina Elementary School, where all of our children attended, and where they sometimes had Sarah Palin's father as a substitute teacher. Some of the students were at recess when we parked and headed toward the door.

As we walked toward the voting room, I was surprised to see students walking out. We always vote here and never before had I seen students in the ballot room.

When we stepped into the voting room, I saw more students, getting a civics lesson on how the voting booth works.

Inside the voting booth, my unmarked ballot awaits my vote.

After Marking her ballot, Margie heads to the machine into which it will be cast.

In the evening, Margie smiles as First Lady To Be Michelle Obama joins Barack Obama on the podium in Chicago after his acceptance speech. I know that there is a great deal of disappointment in Wasilla tonight, but this was just the outcome we had hoped for. Wasilla's disappointment is profoundly offset by the new surge of hope that so many in this country now feel.

What a bleak time we have been through! What a horrific challenge Obama faces. Yet, if there is anyone who can inspire and lead us through the storm that is bearing down upon us, I believe it is Barack Obama. He needs our help. He is going to face so much opposition from the very people who created this mess that now faces him. On that account, John McCain's concession speech was an excellent and fine piece of work. 

It sounded like the John McCain that so many of us once loved and respected. Had that John McCain been on the campaign trail, rather than the one who sought vainly to capitalize on the anger and fear that the Bush administration so exploited, who knows how this election might have turned out?

Now, the obvious question is, where are my pictures of Sarah Palin and her entourage, as she cast her vote in Wasilla this morning? I'm afraid I blew that one, folks. I was not too concerned about it at all. I thought that I would handle it just the way that I have been handling most everything in Wasilla in this blog.

I did not know what time she would vote, but I figured I would eat my breakfast, then head out in the general direction of her polling station and if I happened upon her entourage then I would photograph it, if not, I wouldn't. No big deal. Her vote would get plenty of news coverage without me being there. 

As usual these days, I went to bed about 4:00 AM and then did not get up until a bit after 8:00. As I was preparing my oatmeal, Caleb walked into the house, home from his overnight shift at work.

"You should have seen it out there," he said. "Sarah Palin had an escort of State Troopers a mile along. They had the roads blocked off and were escorting her back to Anchorage to catch her flight." This happened about 7:30 AM, he said.

Suddenly, I felt that it did matter; that I should not have even bothered going to bed but should have just stayed up and then very early set out and scoped out the scene and photographed it - even that I should have gone through the process ahead of time to get the proper press credentials and should have been right there in the voting room to provide my own witness of this onetime moment in Wasilla's history.

Too late.

I had also thought about going to Anchorage tonight, to drop into the big party that the Obama supporters would surely stage, but instead, I choose to spend the entire day hanging out quietly, alone with my wife. 

That part of the decision was good. I enjoyed hanging out just with her. I always enjoy hanging out with my wife.

Wasilla: A roadside expression of love for Senator Stevens - an individual who claimed to be among his sign-carrying supporters attacks my first amendment rights; New York City series on hold for tonight, will continue

While looking for the two men who hope to best each other in the competition to become the new mayor of the City of Wasilla, I instead found these supporters of Senator Stevens, "Uncle Ted," waving signs on the corner of the Parks and Palmer-Wasilla Highways. Another supporter, not seen in this picture, launched an individual attack upon the First Amendment rights that I enjoy as an American citizen protected by the US Constitution.

To explain this bizarre turn of events, I must back up to a point 20 minutes earlier in the afternoon.

As I drove Margie to work, we stopped at a coffee kiosk for the usual brew and then continued on toward Wal-Mart, where her shift was to begin at 5:30. Regular readers will recall how I had earlier photographed the signs of Wasilla mayoral candidates Verner Rupright and Marty Mativa, from the car as we passed by them. I posted that I had no idea why either man wanted the job, but promised that if I happened to come across either of them, I would ask that question and share the answer with readers.

Since then, I have steadfastly kept my eyes open for the candidates whenever I have traveled about Wasilla, but I have seen neither one. Time is getting short, the election is tomorrow. On past election eves, I have almost always spotted local candidates waving signs at various places along the Parks Highway as it makes its way through Wasilla. I have seen this even when the temperature was below zero F., whereas this afternoon it was a pleasant 20 degrees above zero. Yet this afternoon, I did not see either candidate.

As I sat waiting for a light to change, I did catch the above view of Pioneer Peak.

"Look!" I pointed, as Margie got out of the car at Wal-Mart. To the south, the sliver crescent of the new moon rose over the Chugach.

"Oh, beautiful!" she exclaimed. "Where are you going to photograph it from?"

"I don't know," I answered.

I tried the above place atop a hill not far from Wal-Mart, but encountered a few problems. For one, there is no manual focus in this pocket camera and no matter how hard I tried to fool it, I could not get it to focus on the moon. It insisted in focusing directly upon the branches. I had no tripod, because I never use a tripod with this pocket camera - the whole point being that it is easy to carry and I can keep it in my pocket and not strain my healing shoulder.

So I had to go to a high ISO, 800, and even then I had to shoot at 1/30 of a second - very slow, a certain recipe for camera motion blur.

And then the clouds moved over the moon. I moved on.

As I drove toward home, I saw a small group of people waving campaign signs on the corner of the Parks and Palmer Wasilla highways. My hopes rose. As I drew close, I saw that it was not the mayoral candidates, but instead a group of Senator Steven supporters, urging us who passed by to vote for him. I had not thought about photographing Stevens supporters, but still, it was election eve, and they did present me with the opportunity to take an election-related image and put it in this blog.

I could also get a comment or two from them to explain what motivated them to come out and stand on the corner in the cool air and wave signs around. As to the outcome of the election, it would make no difference whatsoever.

I parked near a dumpster in the lot of the nearby Tesoro gas station, and as I got out of the car, I saw... the new moon... freed now from the clouds... a short distance above the horizon, almost directly behind the Stevens supporters.

I now knew how I would photograph this new moon.

I found a decent angle, lifted the camera and prepared to shoot. By now, the light of dusk had faded even more. I had to drop my shutter speed down to 1/20th of a second - hand held - pointed at people and cars, all moving. I would need to take several frames and then see what came out of it, but even then it might not work. 

If I had my SLR's, it would work, but I must let my shoulder heal some more before I start trying to carry those cameras again.

"What are you doing?" I heard a voice ask as I shot one frame. A woman came walking through the dark from the general direction of the Stevens supporters, but I could not be certain that she was one of them. She drew closer, into the dim light that illuminated the parking lot and then smiled at me. She was young, tall, attractive and her smile was sweet, but it was the wrong kind of sweet, for the twinkle in her eyes did not speak of friendliness, but of threat.

(To see a larger version of this or any image, click on it.)

I wanted no trouble with this woman and so, to be friendly, I explained that I was trying to take a picture of the sign wavers with the moon behind them. I told her about this blog, and my failed desire to find a mayoral candidate.

She asked me several questions - was I a Stevens supporter? This question can be most complicated right now, in recognition both of his many good works and all that he has brought to Alaska, coupled with the recent jury verdict that found him guilty of corruption. But at any rate, anyone in America has the right to photograph a group of people waving signs in a public place alongside a busy highway, whether they support them or not.

"Are you a Stevens supporter?" I asked in return.

"Of course I am!" she snapped. "Do you think I would be carrying a sign for him if I wasn't?" She carried no sign now, hor had she when I first spotted her.

I shot a couple more frames.

"I see that the moon is not in those pictures," she accused, sarcastically, as she peeked at my LCD screen.

I was dumbfounded at this false observation. "Yes it is," I said, "it's right there." Even as I pointed out the moon in the upper right hand corner of my LCD screen, she did not seem to believe it was there. I raised the camera and again began to frame the scene for some more shots.

"That's enough pictures," she suddenly ordered. "You can stop now."

"No," I responded. "It's not enough."

"Yes it is," she stated adamantly. "You're done. Don't take anymore pictures."

By nature, I'm a non-confrontational person, but I have lines that I cannot tolerate being crossed, and she had just crossed two of them. She was trying to bully me, and she was trying to suppress my right to free speech, as guaranteed under the First Amendment to Constitution of the United States. To me, this right is sacred, inalienable, and in some settings I have defied even policemen who have tried to trample on it. I was not about to let this woman trample it.

"I'm not done," I answered, and then shot another frame.

"Stop," she demanded. "You can't take pictures without our permission."

I was dumbfounded. What kind of American, with any education and knowledge at all, would think that a group of people standing alongside one of the busiest stretches of highway in the state, waving signs for all who passed by to see, signs that stated their position on one of the biggest stories ever to strike Alaska would think anyone needed their permission to photograph such a display?

Also, I have photographed many people carrying signs and they have all been happy to have me do so - that's why they carry them, so people will take notice and see them. 

A photograph enlarges their audience.

She then threatened me with legal action, promising to sic an attorney on me.

"I will take your picture, then," I responded. 

"No you won't," she said.

"Yes I will," I answered. In truth, it was too dark where we stood for me to get much of a picture and I did not care whether or not I ever photographed this woman, but I wanted to make it clear to her that she could not bully me nor take away my constitutional right to free speech - photography being a recognized form of free speech.

I turned toward her and raised my camera. Just like a prisoner who is ashamed to have anyone see his face, she lifted her hands to hide hers and then, reaching for the camera, lunged toward it. 

I still have far less than full mobility in the right arm and shoulder that I shattered just over four months ago, but I drew the camera back from her as far as I could before pain stopped me. I then pointed it at her, even as I raised my left arm to block her advance. She turned away, and rushed to a nearby vehicle, just as I shot the tiny frame at left, catching nothing but darkness and blur.

As she opened the door to the car and clambered to get inside, she shouted out that I could not take her picture.

"You can't take away the right to a free press," I said as she dove in.

"You're not the press!" she yelled, then slammed the car door shut. That's her above, in red, huddled behind the car door, perhaps calling someone on her cell phone.

I shot a couple more frames from right where I stood, then walked over to where the group of Stevens supporters carried their signs. I let them know why I was photographing them, told them about about their compatriot who had accosted me and suggested that one of them tell her about the US Constitution, the first Amendment and the American right of free speech.

They all seemed to be rational people who understood that they had chosen to engage in a newsworthy activity, one that made them natural targets for photographers.

"So what motivated you to come out her tonight to hold up these signs?" I then asked.

"We love Ted," the red-headed young man above answered with a smile. 

"We love Ted." I thought about that for a second or two. I was prepared to ask a few more questions, but I'm not doing an investigative report here, I'm not conducting an expose. I just wanted to pick up a little bit of the flavor of my home town, Wasilla, Alaska, on election eve, 2008. "We love Ted."

"That's good enough for me," I said.

I had gotten what I wanted, with some unexpected drama thrown in as a bonus. I walked back to my car, parked one space away from the vehicle that woman had dove into. I could not see her. I climbed into my car and drove home.

And earlier in the day:

I had taken Muzzy for a walk. I had not wanted to. In fact, I had feared the prospect. Before I injured my shoulder, there had been times when I had walked him that he spotted another dog, wanted to play, and then hit the end of his leash with such force that he had yanked me off my feet and dragged me sprawling across the road.

Ever since I injured my shoulder, I have refused to hold his leash. But with Jacob and Lavina in Arizona, someone had to take Muzzy on a walk and Caleb was not around. 

So I took him, and experienced only two minor incidents with other dogs, neither of which were of the nature to yank me off my feet. When we got to where it was safe to do so, I removed the leash. Muzzy was free, and he loves his freedom.