James "Jim" Kimble Kiefer Jr

JAMES (JIM) KIMBLE KIEFER, JR. 1946 - 2026

Not everyone's obit should read like a Hallmark card. This one doesn't. No kids. No grandkids. No wife. No choking tether to a corporation that could have tainted the best years of his life. Some would murmur, "selfish" or "loser". That's okay. Those who knew him would not. From all accounts, Jim was generous to a fault, always on hand to help his neighbors (well, those who didn't mess with him anyway). He used his exacting carpentry skills to improve people's everyday existence, to renovate, to turn common wood into something useful and pleasing to the eye. His sister is an accomplished artist, but she knows he was the real artist of the family; the one with the runaway imagination, the one with an innate sense of innovation and skill. In the '60s, complete with Beatle boots and Nehru shirt, he formed a neighborhood R&B cover band, playing sax and guitar and singing . In his early teens, he outfitted his boyhood cronies with sweatshirts decorated in hand-painted wild, bizarre and hilarious images. Jim Kiefer, the "hood", was a master graffiti artist at a time when it was solely regarded as "vandalism". But by his late teens, he abruptly turned his back on any future in the art world. He wasn't one of them. A job at Radio Shack turned his head toward electronics and, ultimately, computers. Straight from graduation at Center High School in Kansas City, he enlisted in the Navy, serving as a sonar technician on the USS Queenfish nuclear submarine when the country was still in serious cold war mode, spending weeks at a time deep under water in the Arctic and other unreachable parts of the world. He loved his country, he respected his mates, he learned and practiced the true meaning of interdependence. He loved his mother most of all, dedicating his life to making her proud -- and she most definitely was. After his five-year term on the Queenfish ended, he returned home, fell in love and married. A few years later, after his mother died, an opportunity to work with computers arose in Santa Ana, CA. He and his wife packed up and fled to the promise land in the late '70s -- pre PC, when computers were a mystery to most. But after a while, the relationship with both his wife and the corporate world went sour, as it does. It was a clear turning point for Jim. He turned to a simpler, quieter life in Williams, OR, buying a house in the foothills of the beautiful Grayback Mountains and setting up shop on his property to serve the area with his woodworking skills. He had earned the fresh air. Shortly after, he took in his aging father, James (Kim) Kiefer, Sr., whom he nurtured (as best he knew how) until his dad's death in 2010. On August 23, 2026, Jim Kiefer, Jr. turned 80, beset with back problems and other age-related issues. He turned to NASCAR, his dogs, friends and Amazon for comfort. Two months later, his dear friend and former neighbor, Barbara, asked their mutual friend, Marty, to do a wellness check, concerned that Jim hadn't returned her calls. Marty walked into the house and found Jim sitting up on the couch in his PJs, facing the TV, peacefully passed away. Jim Kiefer touched many lives. He shared a laugh. He shared his skills. He understood interdependence. He was not quite Hallmark material, but then who really is?