Peggy Sue Hughes

Peggy Sue Hughes died in her sleep on May 14. She was 86 years old. She is survived by her two children, Jim Hughes and Shauna Beebe, and her two grandchildren, Michael Caughill and Annie Hughes.

Peggy grew up in the small, unincorporated town of Angelo, Wisconsin, and had a self-described idyllic childhood despite her family’s hardships. It was the Depression, and for a time they lived in a chicken coop on a neighbor’s farm, but Peggy always described halcyon days of warm sun and gardening, catching minnows for bait and ice skating in winter. She graduated high school and went to Ripon college on a scholarship, but always insisted, “It wasn’t because I was particularly smart, but because compared to everybody else in my town I had normal intelligence.” In college she met and married her husband, Jim Hughes, which began a love affair lasting over 50 years.

The early years were hard. Jim served in the army in Alaska, and money was short. But Peggy was industrious and frugal, and stretched their meager income to support themselves and their new son, Jim Junior. They returned to Wisconsin and gave birth to their daughter, Shauna, before purchasing a grand but ramshackle estate on Lac La Belle.

“It was decrepit,” Peggy recalled. “Kids had broken in and trashed it. After we moved in, we overheard people passing by on a boat say, ‘Can you believe some idiots bought that place?’”

Over the next 36 years, she and Jim turned it into one of the most enviable properties on the lake. The house became part studio, part stage, filled with antiques and comfortable furniture, with Peggy’s art - appliquéd quilts inspired by early-American and colonial designs, hooked rugs with primitive patterns - blanketing the walls. Jim owned an advertising agency, and grew his clientele by hosting parties; guests never failed to be won-over by the couple, who embodied the easy charm of midwestern Kennedys, serving drinks, grilling food and enjoying boat rides.

So they were successful, and they had each other. Peggy and Jim were inseparable, and when Jim died in 2010 it was a devastating blow to her and our family. But we still had Peggy.

Like everyone, she had idiosyncrasies that made her special. She sent handwritten letters. She called her friends every day. She collected German scissors and French pottery. She preferred small forks and spoons, and always set the table, even if you were only having a sandwich. Her hands were gnarled with arthritis but her sewing was immaculate. She hoarded fabric and vintage wool, the palettes of her art. She wore oversized tortoiseshell glasses and loved American girl dolls. Every drawer was filled with an eclectic mix of odds and ends, and there were always toothpicks, tissues, and Diet Cokes near to hand.

If you were lucky enough to know her, you were family forever, and the door was always open. She usually had something to give you. It could be a new shirt, or extra food, or maybe just a newspaper article she thought you’d like. If you were traveling overnight, she’d stay up tracking the plane to ensure it landed safely. And she always watched you as you drove away from her house, her dainty figure gradually disappearing behind the hill.

On May 14th our family drove over that hill one last time, our beloved mother and grandmother standing in her driveway and waving goodbye.

We love you, Peggy. As long as we live you will never be forgotten, and your legacy will live in our family for generations. Thank you for everything.