Mary Jane Klaila

Mary Jane Klaila (June 24, 1956 – February 6, 2026), 69, whose favorite section of the newspaper was always this one, died in Alamos, Son., Mexico after kicking cancer’s a** off and on for thirty years. In true Mary Jane form, her final years were spent a 10 hour drive south of the border. Despite the distance, countless friends and family members cycled through her home until her very last breath. She wore Levi 501s and hosted dinner parties long after she lost the ability to speak and she died exactly where she wanted to, knowing she was loved by everyone she cared about.

Topping out at 4’ 11” and 115 pounds, Mary Jane was somehow the biggest person anyone knew. She defied norms, expectations and conventions without effort, doing what she loved to do with the people she loved to be around. A friend recently wrote, “As much as anyone I have ever known, Mary Jane lived her values and led by example. It was up to those of us standing around her to observe and learn.”

Born in Jamesville, NY in 1956, Mary Jane was the fifth of William Klaila and Jacqueline Klaila (Davis)’s seven children. Her tales of childhood were equal parts terrifying and laughable, which helped explain the deep bond she and her siblings shared until the day she died. Whether it was two or all of them getting together, whiskey flowed, inappropriate jokes shook the walls, and genius activities like the Annual Barbie Shoot (it is exactly what it sounds like) became tradition.

Never one to sit still for more than two minutes, Mary Jane called many places home throughout the years. She spent significant time in Boston, MA, Sitka, AK, Seattle, WA, Olympia, WA, Moab, UT, Anchorage, AK, Portland, ME, Eastport, ME, Costa Rica, Alamos, Mexico, Hawaii, Telluride, CO and Antarctica. In each of those places she built a full community of friends, favorite coffee shops, regular dive bars, and collected characters for her constant stream of stories.

In 1980, Mary Jane stopped long enough in Sitka, Alaska, to give birth to her daughter, Jackie. When Jackie was born, Mary Jane and her husband Rick Friedman lived on an ancient tug boat while he started his career as a lawyer. Although the marriage didn’t last, Mary Jane’s time living in Sitka in the 1980s was the stuff legends are made of.

In 1988, a chance meeting at a music festival in Olympia changed Mary Jane’s life forever. Somehow, the stars aligned and she found Steve Johnston, perhaps the only person on Earth who is quiet enough to balance her chatter, adventurous enough to keep up with her geographic hopping, and smart enough to figure out how they could make a living while living it up. Somehow, this unlikely duo spent thirty-eight years together, marrying in 1999 in a one-of-a-kind ceremony at the Eagle’s Lodge in Olympia, Washington, where the wedding officiant’s name was pulled out of a hat filled with names of all attending guests.

After graduating from Evergreen State College with a degree in Social Work, Mary Jane worked with kids from the Skokomish reservation. Her work there helped inspire a lifelong fight for indigenous people, and resulted in the adoption of her son Ernie. The stories from her time working with those kids could fill a novel, but that can actually be said about every chapter in Mary Jane’s life.

Sick of the bureaucracy involved in working within “The System,” Mary Jane quit to become a house painter. Some people apply paint on walls for a living, but Mary Jane was a true artist. She had an exceptional eye for color, was willing to take risks, and collected color ideas everywhere she walked. It was not uncommon for her to head to a friend’s house for a glass of wine, then end up repainting the kitchen a color that changed the whole feel of the house.

She sang, she fished, she danced on stage at concerts, she shouted at protests, and she drank old men under the table. Her doors were always unlocked, the fire pit was always burning, she attended every funeral and she always kept a shrine to friends who left this world before her. She loved playing craps, getting tattoos, “dining in” at Baskin Robbins, discovering new music, and supporting local artists. Every home she has ever had is a window into the character of the woman who decorated it: Pee Wee Herman dolls, Frida Kahlo portraits, local graffiti art, flowers, an un-nerving number of Last Supper paintings, photos of grandchildren, and small treasures collected over a lifetime are hung, glued, propped and suspended from every available surface.

Mary Jane is survived by her husband Steve, her daughter Jacqueline Friedman Shepherd, son Ernie “Mick” West, and step-son Brian Bousman. She was “Uni” to her grandchildren Mya, Solomon, Isabella, Moshe, Abraham, Da’Vion, Roman, Jalaila, Xavier, and Khaleesii. Her politically incorrect sense of humor, swearing during card games, willingness to take chances in life, and killer dance moves will live on for generations beyond the ones who got to know her.

She is also survived by her siblings Davis, Bill, Cynthia, Louise, Nancy, and siblings-in-law Alec and Linda. Her nieces and nephews Addie, Dallas, Cody, Andrew, Austin, Willa, Monteen, and Naomi all loved their Crazy Aunt Jaynie.

Bruce Springsteen wrote: “The world is filled with many wonders, under the passing sun. But sometimes something comes along, you know for sure it’s the only one.” There will likely never be another tiny woman with waist-length, un-brushed hair, wearing paint-spattered work pants, fingers sparkling with family diamonds, swearing and singing and finding ways to make everyone around her think and laugh and just enjoy being themselves in her presence.

In leu of flowers, please consider making a donation in her name to the ACLU of Alaska. Mary Jane’s daughter Jackie has worked for and with the ACLU of Alaska for years and Mary Jane – always one to stick up for the underdog -- was so proud. “Be sure to tell them Large Marge sent you!” https://action.aclu.org/give/ak-in-memory-of or checks can be mailed to:
ACLU of Alaska, 1057 W. Fireweed Lane, #207, Anchorage, AK 99503.