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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Entries in Santa (2)

Wednesday
Dec292010

Lavina's masterpiece: The little boy, the spatula and the befuddled old man with long, white, hair and beard

As you would suspect, given the fact that it took me two days to complete my posts on Kalib's birthday and in that two days I did not sit still, but encountered and photographed waitresses, baristas, ravens, airplanes, the moon and such, I had plenty of material from which to make today's post.

And then Lavina emailed this picture to me, that she took at Jacob's office Christmas party. When I opened her email I laughed. Last night, as I was lying in bed wondering when sleep might finally overtake me, I thought of this picture and laughed again. And then this morning when I awoke for the final time, once again all too soon to get a good night's sleep, I thought of this picture and laughed once more.

Laughing is not what I have been doing these past many weeks, before repeatedly falling briefly into and awakening from short spurts of troubled sleep.

Poor, befuddled, Santa!

But I understand - and you, dear reader, if you have been with this blog lately, and Kalib's various adventures with the spatula, you also understand.

So today, I am going to push all of my pictures aside and run only this, a masterpiece of subtle humor and love, shot not by me but Lavina. Other than this, I won't say anything about the photo, but will let it speak entirely for itself.

Please - this is a picture that needs to be seen at a larger size. So click here or on the photograph itself to see it bigger.

 

To see all posts that include Kalib and his spatula, click here.

 

Thursday
Dec092010

In the interlude: Santa drops in on his next-door neighbors, sees some "folks dressed up like Eskimos" gets a high five and leaves a bit of good cheer behind

In the evening after the gathering at Warren Matumeak's house and the night before his funeral, I heard that Santa Claus had hopped over to Barrow from his nearby home at the North Pole. I dropped by the North Slope Borough building, where the Mayor's and Law offices were holding their office Christmas party for staff members and their families.

Other offices and departments would hold their own parties at the times and locations of their choosing.

I entered to the sight of excited children charging in ahead of their parents as classic Christmas Carols played on the sound system - the standards, such as "Silent Night," "Jingle Bells" and "The Christmas Song."

In one of those odd coincidences that Mel Torme could never have pictured in all of his imaginings, I took this picture of little Leila Sundai just as he sang these words:

 

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire

Jack Frost nipping at your nose

Yuletide carols being sung by a choir

And folks dressed up like Eskimos...

 

I'm not making this up. That's just how it happened.

When you sang, did you even begin to envision such beauty, Mel Torme?

The parka was sewn by Leila's grandmother, her Aaka Nora Snowball.

As they waited for Santa to arrive, children posed in front of the tree.

Everyone waited in nervous anticipation, not quite certain what was about to happen. Then, suddenly, we heard the clatter of tuttu hooves, alighting atop the roof. Next, a big, fat man man stood at the top of the stairs laughing so hard that his belly shook like a bowl full of jelly.

To be quite frank, this scared the heck out of me. I was about to throw my camera away and to run screaming into the cold of the Arctic night when I saw little baby Kylen, held in the arms of Jordan Ahgeak, boldly gliding up the stairs toward Santa.

She drew back her little hand as if maybe she was going to slap him...

She didn't slap him. She gave him a high five! After I had witnessed such bravery met only with good will, my own courage returned. I did not throw my camera away. I did not flee screaming into the Arctic night, I stuck around to take pictures and eat cake.

Soon, little ones were filing by to get their gifts. Leila Sundai got hers.

As did little Ka'eo - whose blood is a beautiful mix of Iñupiat, Hawaiian and Asian.

As his proud grandfather, North Slope Borough Mayor Edward Itta cheered him on, little Noah Itta accepted Santa's gift. 

Kapono Texeira, brother to Ka'eo, received a Buzz Lightyear action figure.

Sisters Melissa and Madison posed by the tree.

Lily Brower and Leila spent some time enjoying the new friends that Santa had brought to them.