Mary Jane McFarland, 95

Mary Jane McFarland, 95, passed away on Friday, Oct. 28, 2016, in Sandpoint, Idaho.

Private family services have been held.

As word got out that Mary’s life was fading, the messages started coming in from motorcyclists around the world. Messages telling many tales of this remarkable woman’s life and anecdotes of how theirs had intertwined. “A book needs to written about Mary.” “No, not a book, perhaps many.” A sentiment widely held.

Born Mary Jane Sutton in Spokane, Wash., on Nov. 1, 1919, to a university-educated, socially mobile mother and father from the channeled scablands of Washington’s wheat country, her route through life seemed mapped out. Little did anyone know this was “Mary’s life” and no rules were written for her, she made her own, always.

Spokane society never fit Mary, but the immense wheat farm of the Palouse did. She ran away after her twelfth birthday and “hitched” rides from each grain elevator site on wheat trucks back to her father’s farm, announcing on arrival, “if you send me back you will never hear from me again.” Knowing this to be true, she was raised doing men’s work running a farm the size of some counties. “The blacksmith taught me to cuss and smoke, things I perfected later.”

The farm had lots of hired men, men who taught Mary the survival skills of life she employed so well. The house was an old stage station, where the wind blew cold in the winter and boiling hot in the summer, ten miles from Washtucna, Wash., on a road that still holds the family name. Hard work from daylight until dark was the preamble of good farming practices, a mantra she lived by for 95 years. Surrounded by an ocean of wheat, her jobs were as varied as the direction of the wind. On one occasion she had to guard the property with a 12-gauge shotgun from the “Wobblies” — the International Workers of the World Union — her father had been told they may burn the wheat to get them to join the union. A lifelong love of shooting, firearms and hunting started in those fields.

In 1937, Washington State University gave Mary a full scholarship based on her high school academics and sporting prowess. Her goal at WSU was to be a veterinarian like her grandfather, but she was discouraged because she was a girl, she graduated with honors in history and music. Music had been a big part of her life culminating in a little dance band she formed with friends. She played piano, saxophone and accordion.

Graduation sent her back briefly to the farm but the world beckoned. She left in her car headed for Oklahoma, Tennessee, Georgia and all points in between. Then came Glenn. Meeting him at a WSU football game, this tall, handsome Oklahoma Navy man became her husband in the fall of 1941. When the war came, Glenn reenlisted, Mary went to Spokane Army Air Depot to become “Rosie the riveter.” As a mechanic she worked on B17s and B24s. Her love of flying intensified. Discharged, Glenn worked for the FAA, posted in many locations in the West. Mary became a commercial pilot and opened, “McFarland’s Air Taxi and Charter Service” and gave birth to daughter Sarah in 1946. She ran that service for 17 years in Wyoming, Nevada, California and Oregon carrying such luminaires as Howard Hughes.

In Wyoming, she flew for the state, charting sections of land and in California was deputized to hunt for “outlaws” from the air. Coming in fifth in one coast to coast “powder puff” derby her fame spread. She was at the time one of 400 women commercial pilots nationwide. Upon Glenn’s retirement they moved to the Clark Fork River Valley buying thousands of acres from Johnson Creek to Heron, Mont., and McFarland ranches were born. Raising prime cattle, 400 to 600 head at a time. Then came motorcycles. Owning over 30, she had 19 housed at one time in a special garage on the property.

We could go on and on. Here are some highlights. Yes, she did throw the maps out the plane window in a spat with Glenn, telling him to find his way. Poor little Sarah in the back seat thinking “we are gonna die.” That was Mary. She wrote for magazines and entered races for them as woman cycle driver. That was Mary. They rode all of Europe, the Americas and Great Britain many times, making lifelong cycle friends. That was Mary. She herded cattle from her dirt bikes and smoked big cigars while driving a combine. That was Mary. She told neighbors where the boundaries of her land and life were, never a raised voice. That was Mary. She had an accounting system for their ranches that would have made Ebenezer Scrooge happy. That was Mary. She knew the history of every country they visited intimately. That was Mary. She was blunt, straightforward, honest and generous of heart and purse if she felt it worthwhile. That was Mary. She didn’t suffer fools well, one always understand where they stood with her. That was Mary. She gave a young man going off to college a generous check to help out. That was Mary. A few years back she was honored with a Platinum Awards dinner from WSU giving her long overdue sports awards from her days setting records there and a place in their hall of fame. And that was Mary. She was lifelong Truman lunch bucket Democrat and served as precinct committeemen for years. She worked hard for her causes and knew major political figures. And yes, she did know Eleanor Roosevelt.

She left us Oct. 28, 2016. Have a good ride.

She leaves behind a sister, Bessie Allen; a daughter, Sarah McFarland; her grandchildren, Tom Gibb, Todd Gibb, and Jennifer Rynkowski; and seven great-grandchildren.

Lakeview Funeral Home in Sandpoint is handling the arrangements. Please visit Mary’s online memorial at www.lakeviewfuneral.com and sign her guest book.