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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Sunday
Sep122010

On my way home, I stop in Fairbanks to watch the Barrow Whalers play football; a man paints lines at MacDonald's

On my way home from the Arctic Slope, I stopped in Fairbanks to catch the Barrow Whalers football game against Monroe Catholic School. The date, September 11, kind of added a little impact to the traditional playing of the National Anthem that proceeds football games.

The Whalers won, 26-14. I have not yet had time to edit any of my photos from this trip and I have a huge edit to do, but I remembered seeing quarterback Eddie Benson blasting his way with a cast on his arm through the Monroe defense on the Whaler's final touchdown drive, so, for this blog, I went straight to that photo and this is it.

The touchdown came on the very next play, when Benson hit Trace Hudson with a 10 yard pass. Readers can find a more complete account in the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner, right here.

The end of the game came dangerously close to my departure time out of Fairbanks International Airport and I should have left maybe 10 minutes before I did, but I pushed my luck and stayed put just to capture this scene.

I then rushed to the airport, checked in before it was too late and then returned the rental to Budget. There was one woman ahead of me and it took the guy behind the desk about 15 minutes to serve her. Finally, with little time to spare, he handed her the keys to her rental car and she left.

I stepped to the counter, anxious to complete the transaction so that I could go through security and board my plane, but before he could help me, the phone rang.

It kind of felt like someone had cut in line ahead of me. The guy then spent several minutes with this person as I grew ever more anxious, as departure was now less than 20 minutes away.

After he took my keys, I headed for security and as I was finishing up, I heard the final boarding call for my flight. "All passengers must now board." I put my belt back on, cinched it, then slipped my feet half-way into my shoes, grabbed my stuff and ran toward the gate.

All passengers but me had boarded. There was one ticket scanner, sitting by the gate waiting for me.

I handed her my ticket. She scanned it. I boarded the plane. They shut the door behind me, fired up the engines, we were giving the pre-flight speech and then we left.

Margie picked me up at Ted Stevens International in Anchorage. I had not eaten since lunch, so we stopped at MacDonald's, nearing midnight. As we sat in the car eating our hamburgers and drinking our fruit smoothies (see... MacDonald's can too be healthy - FRUIT smoothies) this guy drove up and started to paint fresh parking lines.

Now, I will see if I can get a little rest and then try to make a small account of what was a big and interesting trip.

 

I might add that when I was on Cross Island, I heard no national or international news at all, very little when I was in Nuiqsut, but began to learn of what has been going on in my nation during my few hours in Barrow. Now I am home, awash in the flood of news. All I can say is - my country has been going nuts.

 

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Thursday
Sep092010

I break my absence with quick and cute: the dog who charged a polar bear cub and then got charged by a polar bear mom; two girls and pups; a special Charlie Brown plane in Nuiqsut

See the dog on the right? That's Ivory. I took this image of Ivory and friends right here in the Arctic Slope village of Nuiqsut, where I am right now, but a few nights ago, on Cross Island, I saw Ivory charge toward a polar bear cub that had wandered about 200 feet from its mom.

Then I saw the mom charge toward Ivory. Ivory then changed his mind and came running back to us.

Yes, I photographed the scene and I will share it, although I should warn you not to get your hopes too high, as the sun had already set, the sky was overcast, I was shooting a 400 mm lens handheld at something like 1/30 of a second.

I have not yet had a chance to look at the downloanded images, but I know they will be blurred. Still, I will share them.

I will comment more then.

Rochelle with cute puppy, right here in Nuiqsut. I might note that a little earlier in the day I had taken a long walk, missing Cross Island but glad that I could walk alone without carrying a gun. On Cross Island, one either carries a gun or walks with someone who is.

Usually, a warning shot will convince the bear to leave one alone.

Rochelle and Elizabeth, right here in Nuiqsut, with puppies.

And this is Lucy Mae, with puppy. Whale shares are being divided in the background.

Rochelle, loving puppy.

Everts Air on the Nuiqsut strip. I will have more on this plane in Uiñiq magazine.

Although it started with an immense personal disappointment, this has been a wonderful and amazing trip and I have shot many, many, pictures for Uiñiq. I have not had a chance to do any editing at all, but within my larger Uiñiq take there are three or four little stories that I plan to share on this blog - and yes, the polar bears are one. And I have what I think is a wonderful little story about an Eskimo drum - and, of course, there was that very brief stop at a haunted house that sits all by itself, right on the edge of the Arctic Ocean.

Something bad has happened to my laptop. The screen image is rapidly vibrating, bouncing up and down. It is extremely annoying to look at it - just putting this blog together has given me a headache and made me dizzy! - and it is impossible to edit and process photos. I can't color balance them at all. I have no idea how the images I have placed here actually appear in terms of color, contrast and all those kind of things that photographers worry about.

I plan to be home Sunday. I may not, or I may, post again before then. It is just too aggravating to work on this malfuncting computer. I may just wait until I get back to my desktop computer.  I don't know, I don't know.

I'm not even going to attempt to proofread this, either. Words are jumping all over the page.

 

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Wednesday
Sep012010

One image from breakfast, three from coffee break: the resolute couple; Metro portrait; Mahoney Ranch; hitch-hiking to the State Fair

This morning, I was wise. I cooked oatmeal and ate it. But these images are from yesterday and yesterday I was foolish and did what I wanted - I got up, dressed, said good-bye to the cats and headed over to Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant for breakfast.

As I sipped coffee and waited for my ham and eggs, this couple left the restaurant and then walked by my window, resolute to the face the day.

Somehow, the day is a little easier to face after a breakfast at Family.

Sure, today I had oatmeal and that was the right thing to do, both in terms of my economy and health.

But how am I ever going to face this day?

At the usual time, 4:00 PM, as All Things Considered came on the radio, I headed to Metro Cafe for my afternoon coffee break. It had been awhile since I had shot a Through the Metro Window study, so I shot this one:

Through the Metro Window Study, #444: Carmen, Lily, Willow and Nola.

Again, I took the long way home, the route that goes by Grotto Iona and the Mahoney Ranch. Tim Mahoney was out pitching hay. I was going to shoot the picture in the usual way, from the car as I drove on by without stopping, but I suddenly decided to stop, get out of the car, shoot a couple of frames and chat a bit.

So that's what I did. Among the stories Tim told me about was how he had once been out near Council, when he looked up the embankment that rose over him and saw a big musk-ox standing above him and above the musk ox, a red falcon observing.

As I doubled back down Church towards home, I saw this young couple hitch-hiking. I used to pick up hitch-hikers all the time, but quit because too many bad things happened to others who did. But, somehow, I knew this couple would do me no harm, so I picked them up.

They had badly overslept but were up now, headed to the State Fair in Palmer. So I drove past the turn to my house, took them two-and-a-half more miles to the Parks Highway and dropped them off there, where there would much more traffic coming by than on Church Road.

I do have my Era Aviation ticket now and I fly north early tomorrow morning.

It could be awhile before I blog again, but I can't say for sure, so please check back, anyway.

 

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Tuesday
Aug312010

Three images from coffee drive: hot dog in puddle; dropping seeds; a small spot of rain

I have no time to blog today, so I'm going to keep it very simple. After I made my 4:00 o'clock run to Metro, I drove home the long way and saw this dog standing in this puddle.

The dog must have been hot - a hot dog who wanted to cool off.

And I drove by this man who appeared to be dropping seeds in a cleared lot. I don't know what kind of seeds. Radishes, perhaps.

Up ahead, I spotted a place where the rain had hit the ground in a small, well defined spot and had left a border on the road. When I drove into the rain spot, it was still sprinkling there - very lightly. Out of curiousity, I turned left down a side road, drove for about two or three hundred yards and came upon a rain border as distinct as this one. I then drove back onto the road you see here, continued on, and drove across the far side border a few hundred yards beyond the top of this little hill.

Now, as for me, I am in a bit of predicament. I feel an urgent need to catch the plane north tomorrow morning, but the resource that will enable me to purchase the ticket has not yet come in and I don't think it is going to in time for me to do that. Plus, I really need to get some new Arctic gear before I leave on this trip. Until I get those resources, I am stuck. I think I will be okay even if I leave as late as Thursday, likely even Friday, but I am growing nervous and would like to get going.

 

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Monday
Aug302010

He drinks his mother's milk; the cross and the rifle; when the visits end, loneliness sets in

Lavina and Jacob stopped by early Sunday afternoon to drop Jobe off so that they could take Kalib to the State Fair. Poor Kalib! For so long, he got used to being the one and only, the center of attention, for his parents and all of us.

And then along came little Jobe, smaller yet, not only cute and adorable, but one of the most good-natured babies ever born on this earth. Suddenly, Kalib had competition for all that love and attention that had belonged to him only.

Jacob and Lavina could have taken Jobe to the fair, too, and pushed him around in a stroller and it would have been fine, but they decided that on this day, they were going to devote their attention solely to Kalib. On this day, for the several hours between when they left Jobe at our house and then returned again, Kalib would be their one and only.

So here is Jobe, on his grandmother's lap, drinking his mother's milk.

Kalib is nowhere within range of my camera. He is off with his parents, enjoying their attention at the Alaska State Fair.

Doing what was at once right, healthy, and fiscally prudent, I had cooked steel-cut oatmeal in the morning and had eaten it with blueberries.

Yet, all through the day into mid-afternoon I had that Sunday morning, go-out-for breakfast feeling; the kind of feeling that makes you want to sit down in a restaurant and be served ham and eggs, with your cup being refilled by an attentive waitress as quickly as you can drain it.

So, at about 3:00 PM, I said "see you later" to Margie and Jobe, neither of whom wanted to come, drove to Family Restaurant and ordered just such a breakfast.

Afterward, as I drove through the parking lot toward the exit, I spotted this scene.

As I continued on towards home, I spotted this couple. Apparently, the male half lives with the worry that someone will feed him to the bears. He obviously does not want to be fed to the bears.

I came home via Church Road, and found myself behind this vehicle.

This is a crop from the previous image, so that readers can clearly see what the Astro owner wants you to see: a decal of a man with a rifle, kneeling before a cross. There are many ways this could be interpreted and, frankly, I do not know for certain what message the Astro owner is trying to send. 

The decal could represent a soldier, stationed in Afghanistan or Iraq, about to go into combat and so he prays for guidance and protection. It could signify a hunter who desires to feed his family, so he also prays for guidance protection and for help to put food on the table. It could signal the conviction of someone who believes that the barrel of a gun is the way to advance the gospel of He Who commanded those faithful to him: "whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also" and "whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain."

Update, 5:52 PM: I just looked at this again, and was struck by another possibility: it might represent a soldier, kneeling before a monument to his fallen friends.

Sometime after I returned home from my truly wonderful late afternoon breakfast, which also served as my lunch and dinner, Melanie and Charlie arrived at the house. Melanie performed for Jobe's amusement.

Charlie showed me his new, used car, a hybrid Honda Insight that he says gets 56 miles per gallon. My nephew, Thos Swallow down in Salt Lake City, engaged to marry in October, has such a car. Only his is a bright, lime, green. You can see it coming, even in the fog, from ten miles away, on the other side of a mountain.

I like that little car.

Jacob and Lavina reported that Kalib, who appears to be completely restored from the ailment that had him down last week, had a happy time at the fair - so much so that he ran his parents into a state of exhaustion.

I did a self-portrait of Jobe and me. And don't be worried that Jobe might suddenly pitch himself backwards with no support. See that patch of maroon and yellow just over my right shoulder?

That's Jacob, and he has his hand on Jobe's back.

Charlie took a picture of me taking this picture. He posted it on his Facebook page.

Kalib never came into the house, because he also exhausted himself at the fair and so he stayed in the car to sleep. All too soon, his parents and Jobe joined him so that they could go home and prepare for the work week ahead.

Margie joined them, too, as she needs to be in Anchorage to babysit Jobe.

Not long afterward, Melanie and Charlie climbed into Charlie's new car so that they could burn less than one gallon of gas and still get home.

I hated to see my daughter go. And Charlie, too, of course, but a daughter - no one holds the heart of a father quite like a daughter. And my daughters - yes, they own my heart.

Still, she and Charlie had to go.

Once again, I was left alone, me and the cats.

By now, I suspect most readers have deduced that I spend a tremendous amount of time alone. I write alone, I drive alone, I walk alone, I bike alone, I sit in airplanes alone, I dine alone.

I am a person who does good alone, because the people that I have met and countless people who I haven't but know of and many who don't even exist outside my imagination all inhabit my mind and when I am alone, many conversations and actitivities take place there. For every word that I write in a form that others can read, I compose ten thousand in my mind, when I am alone.

So I do good alone.

But somehow, on this night, after Melanie left with Charlie, I slipped into a horrid, hollow, state of painful loneliness. I sat at my computer and did the usual things, but nothing could diminish the ache - perhaps because I know that if things go as I hope, in no more than two or three days I will be on a plane going north and then I will be in a place where wireless does not reach. 

I will have no contact with my family - perhaps for a week, two, three... hard to say. It depends on many factors, not a single one of which I will have any control over. So maybe that's why I felt lonely to such a painful degree

At 2:02 AM, I received an email notification that Thruptha Mp had just sent me a Facebook message. I met her in Bangalore, India, during Soundarya's wedding. I had not heard from Thruptha in quite some time, but she wrote to tell me that she had created a folder labeled "Best of Bill's photography" but was frustrated, because she was having a hard time narrowing the images down.

That message cheered me. I went to bed about an hour later, still lonely, but not near as lonely.

Yet, even now, on this new day of this new week, the loneliness has returned in full. Many lonely hours await me.

But don't feel sorry - if one never experienced loneliness, one could never do what I do. It is an integral part of the process and must be faced.

 

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