Myrtle Jane Bovee

July 24, 1933
September 1, 2025

Myrtle Jane Bovee, lovingly known as Jane, passed away peacefully in the early morning hours of September 1, 2025, at the age of 92. Born in Iowa, Jane spent most of her life in Washington, where she raised her family and later found the great adventure of the open road beside her husband and best friend, Francis “Frank” Bovee.

Jane and Frank were long-haul truck drivers who shared not only miles of highway but also an unshakable bond, a love of travel, and a passion for dancing—especially the polka. Wherever they went, you could count on them to be dressed to match, a perfect pair in every sense of the word. After years on the road, they eventually settled in Bullhead City, Arizona, where Jane enjoyed her retirement surrounded by sunshine and family visits.

Jane had a playful spirit and a sharp wit. She loved a good card game, particularly cribbage—though family members still debate whether her uncanny winning streaks were skill, luck, or a touch of creative scoring. A proud left-hander, she often said it was both her superpower and her burden, and she wore that uniqueness with pride. She could deliver a bit of shade with the sweetest Midwestern smile, and somehow, you’d end up laughing with her every time.

She is survived by her children Patricia “Patty” Willers, Bill Hood, Dorris Crawford and her husband Bud Crawford, and Dianna Pignataro; her grandchildren Erik, Christopher, Jeremy, Paul, Dianna, Jessie, Vanessa, John, Justin, Amanda, and Brenna; 19 great-grandchildren; and 4 great-great-grandchildren.

Jane was preceded in death by her husband Frank, her son Joshua Hood, granddaughter Angela, and her beloved brothers and sisters.

In keeping with her generous spirit, Jane donated her body to Research for Life. Following the completion of that process, her and Frank’s ashes will be laid to rest together at Auburn Memorial Mausoleum—together forever, just as they always were.

She leaves behind a legacy of laughter, love, and lessons about life’s simple joys—good music, good company, and the occasional sneaky cribbage.

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