Kay Ann Boatright

Kay Ann Boatright passed away in her home with family by her side on May 11, 2026, at the age of 86. Born in Minneapolis, MN, on April 24, 1940, to Clement “Clem” and Elizabeth “Betty” Fairbanks, she was raised in Minnesota and developed a deep appreciation for nature, animals, music, and community - things she cherished and shared her entire life.

In 1958 she moved to Chicago where she met and married the love of her life, Jack Boatright, her beloved husband of 46 years. They resettled in Phoenix in 1962 where they raised six children and shared their home with numerous pets, including dogs, cats, ducks, birds, turtles, rabbits, hamsters, rats, snakes, tarantulas, and later, scads of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The Boatright house was home to many, always brimming with love and excitement and always a place where everyone was welcomed as family.

She loved the outdoors, fires in the evening, rainstorms, the sound of wind through the trees, her Minnesota Vikings, cold beer (Miller Lite preferred), dancing to Elvis, crossword puzzles with morning coffee, reading late into the night, and above all, the time spent with loved ones.

Kay was a breast cancer survivor of 40+ years who found strength in humor. She volunteered for years as a clown with Phoenix Children’s Hospital, bringing laughter and comfort to children and families during difficult moments. She had a way of making everything lighter. Whether through clowning, crafting, baking, storytelling, or simply opening her home to anyone who needed it, she offered the gift of connection. You were always seen and accepted exactly as you were.

To her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, her home was a place of soggy waffles, ramen (somehow better than anyone else could make), cookie decorating, laughter spilling through the house, and long summer days spent outside looking for cicada shells and rolling in the grass until the sun finally went down.

Kay was preceded in death by her husband, Jack “Papa” Boatright, sister, Jan McCoy, and grandson, Kevin Boatright. She is survived by her children, Steve (Karen), Dave (Jenn), Pam (Bill), Susie, Mark, and Jack (Amy), her brothers Richard and Sonny Fairbanks, and generations of grandchildren, great-grandchildren, extended family, and lifelong friends who carry her spirit forward. Her life will be remembered for its richness in family, laughter, tradition, and love.

The following poem written by her grandson, Kieth Boatright, captures her essence.

Grandma K

Craft starter.

Magic maker.

Spirit talker.

Life starter.

Wrapped in a blanket

of love and cuddles.

Stroller rides

walking to the mall.

Mud pies between houses,

neighbors becoming family.

Easter hunts,

running circles and making Papa mad

her laughing the whole time.

Decorating cookies every holiday,

frosting made from scratch,

teaching us with her hands

and her patience.

On the Fourth of July,

she led the parade

top hat, cane in hand

marching us down the street

like a circus on the move,

like she knew exactly where we were going.

She gave us inside jokes,

the kind that never leave.

Like Black Bottom Pie,

Papa’s favorite,

even if nobody else knew what it was.

She loved the woods,

the sound of trees in the wind,

the kind of quiet

that was never really quiet.

Fires burning.

Rain falling.

Nature always speaking

and she was always listening.

She loved her Minnesota Vikings,

dressed head to toe

in full Viking spirit.

And when her song came on

she was up,

dancing through the living room

with her cardboard Elvis Presley,

shaking those hips

better than anyone else ever could.

And somewhere beyond this life,

she’s with Papa again.

Maybe sharing a Black Bottom Pie.

Maybe dancing to Elvis.

And maybe…

running into Kevin.

Papa at the door:

“Alright… okay, time to go, Kay…”

And her only response

“Jack… one more beer.”

*****************

In keeping with Kay’s wishes, no formal memorial service will be held. Her family will hold a Celebration of Life at a future date. Honoring her request, her ashes will be scattered among the trees and lakes of Minnesota.