WA - What do you do when you wake the first day without the greatest love you will ever know... Judith Margaret Tobin ended her life May 8, 2025, with all the bravado that she lived it. Swallowing a bitter drink, allowed in only a few states that have the wisdom to provide a legal path for dying on our own terms.

Daughter of Tom and Jane Tobin, sister to Pete and Jane, wife of Michael (which she referred to as her second administration) and owner of Pete and Lucy, Judy died in the home she skillfully appointed, surrounded by a small group of friends and amid the works of art that she loved. Born in Helena Montana on February 2, 1940, she lived large for eighty-five years.

She grew up at 642 Dearborn in one of the few remaining great homes of Helena, MT — the house where her mother was born. She and her mother had a difficult relationship. At age 14, she was sent away to the Dominican Convent, in Marin County, California. She continued her education with the nuns by attending Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart. She referred to herself often as a recovering Catholic and, to prove the point, transferred to the University of California, Berkeley, in 1960.

Judy joined the Delta Gamma sorority and found lifelong friendships. She and nine of her DGs retreated each year to the California coast for heavy talking and drinking. She maintained that tradition for more than 40 years. She lived on Telegraph Hill in San Francisco through the 1960s and finished her California sojourn with a three-year stint teaching English at Novato High School in Marin. She married Otto (her first administration) and joined him and his three children to live in her much beloved Roland Terry-designed home on East High Lane, in Seattle. After seven years of being a mom (and doing lots of other stuff), she tired of Otto's abuse and fired him. Reportedly, she kicked a hole in a door as part of the process.

She initially found Seattle a cultural disappointment but soon corrected this by applying her friend-making magic. First was Lamar Efaw, a remarkable interior designer, who waved his own magic wand and outfitted temporary digs while she got rid of Otto. He and she collaborated in all things interior design for the next 50 years. He introduced her to Linda Farris, the controversial, brilliant, overwhelming gallerist who transformed the Seattle art scene. Many of Judy's Seattle friends trace to Linda. But Judy also used philanthropy, social justice causes, politics, and community service as other beachheads in amassing an astounding network of friends, that network being the greatest asset she left her bereaved second administration.

She had few paid gigs, and Seattle owes her. In the late 1970s, she was the beat reporter for the award-winning Neighborhood News Review on King FM, chronicling strange and wonderful neighborhood activists, including Michael's previous girlfriend (but that is another story). In the 1980s, she was chair of the Pike Market Clinic board for 10 years, ran and won a seat on the Pike Market PDA council, marshaling a remarkable 600 votes for the position (her opponent accused her of bringing in busloads from Bellevue). Walking through the market with Judy in those days was like a stroll on the Lower East Side with Fiorello La Guardia; every vendor knew her because she worked tirelessly to ensure the market thrived. Having time on her hands, she co-founded the Community Marketing and Media Center to help nonprofit organizations professionalize their marketing strategies. She chaired the board and numerous committees for ATR (later Social Justice Fund), driving (literally and figuratively) throughout the region to meet and care for grassroots social change activists.

Through the 1990s, she chaired the Seattle Center Advisory Commission and was thrilled to learn about all the communities that create the cultural festivals that make the center rock. During the last quarter century, she served eight years on the Washington State Medical Quality Assurance Commission, handling all the doctors accused of infractions involving "sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll." She loved the drama, investigations, and personalities of that work. For 20 years, she served on the Wing Luke Museum board, fascinated by its unique commitment to community-based curation.

Throughout her adult life, she made time for travel (India, China, Iran, South America, Vietnam, Cambodia, Zimbabwe, Tanzania, South Africa, Egypt, Europe, Haida Gwaii, Japan), appreciation of and collecting contemporary art, and philanthropy. Art was her passion—often the focus of much of her travels. Getting to know and befriend artists was a favorite pastime.

After a seven-year preamble, she agreed to marry Michael (her second administration) in 1989. She allowed him to join her in almost all her adventures. Michael held her tight for 43 years and will dearly miss the calm and comfort of her embrace.

She leaves behind a veritable army of friends. See the online version of this obituary for stories about life with Judy told by some of those friends ...

Kate Solari Baker

Judy and I met in September 1954. We were fourteen. I was a new sophomore student at Dominican Convent, in Marin County, California. Judy was tasked with meeting and greeting the girls arriving as new boarders. My parents had deposited me in my dormitory cubicle (about 8'X10') which consisted of a bed, a bureau, and a tiny closet. I was unpacking a number of really unattractive uniforms, the worst of which were the brown shoes and brown socks. Judy appeared, clipboard in hand, prepared to welcome me. But first she asked for my name. I took a look at her badly permed hair, her braces, her bright blue cats-eyeglasses, and her Montana's- best prairie mid-calf length dress. Most particularly, I took in her officious manner and general bossiness. It was instant dislike. No way was I going to tolerate this person. So instead of answering her question, I silently turned my back to her, stretched out my right arm, and pointed to a small white card affixed to the cubicle opening. It read: "Katie Solari". And somehow that inauspicious introduction became the beginning of a 70-year beautiful friendship. That was my lucky day.

Mary Ann Peters

In 2008 I was midway through a huge project in Hong Kong. Judy told me she wanted to come see it. I said "you've got to be kidding!" She replied "not kidding" or something akin to that. She was absolutely forthright and adamant with her intentions. When she walked up the stairway to where I was working I just about burst into tears. Besides my family, there is no one who has supported me more.

Orion Baker

I'm thinking of the time up at The Land probably 30 years ago when we were cutting down diseased trees and generally thinning the forest for fire prevention. My friends and I were amassing the cut wood into jumbled heaps when Judy came by and kindly yet firmly instructed us in the proper way to arrange the wood into tidy stacks with every stick and log facing the same way, because even in the woods "neatness counts."

Jeffry Mitchell

When you sent us the sad news of Judy's death The first thing that popped into my head was Judy saying to me, as she had many times in her matter-of-fact, wry delivery: "She died, She did!" It came with tears and laughter. Judy was a fiercely loyal friend and lost more than a few friends over the years. This phrase was a way expressing her love and her anger at losing a loved one.

Walter Parsons

Our friendship started with a walk. It was the late 70s. I was taking a walk with Linda Farris and she said her friend Judy was joining us. The three of us walked around Madison Park. An easy conversation, a little irreverent, funny. Art came up. And the walks with Judy continued for the next fifty years. To museums, galleries, theaters, restaurants. New York and Portland favorite destinations. Over time walking became harder. But Judy was forever a trooper. One of our last walks was through the cold streets of Long Island city. Destination an art show of an artist who was a friend. She made it. Coming home with two new paintings for her vast collection. Always a labor of love.

Shari Behnke

It was a fundraiser for Joy who was running for the city council. We were at a condo, and it was the Q and A. One person was pushing hard to get Joy to talk about the "problem of dangerous drug crazed people" riding the buses. Buses were unsafe and no one, especially little children, was safe. Joy was being political and answering by not really answering how she was going to fix it. The person asking the question wouldn't give up and then Judy stepped in. She just point blank said this wasn't the case. She often rides the bus and lives in Capitol Hill. She has never seen this behavior and that she felt safe on the bus. Judy was forceful and direct and did what so many people wanted Joy to do. The person who had been relentlessly questioning Joy quit. The whole tenor of the Q and A changed after that.

Alice Ito

When Judy was a member of A Territory Resource (ATR, now Social Justice Fund NW) and I was on the staff, we got to know each other while traveling around the region, visiting groups that were applying for grants. On the outside we appeared wildly different, yet were a great team because we shared a deep commitment to justice and appreciation for the work people were doing under very difficult conditions. On these road trips and in later years over lunch (or an ice-cold martini) our conversations ranged widely across social concerns, community dilemmas, and the ups and downs of life. I could count on Judy to be direct and to ask questions that others might think but not say out loud—e.g., "What the hell is going on here?!?"

Maria Batayola

Judy touched so many of our lives. She was in mine for a long long time in my 20s and 30s through the Seattle Center Advisory Cmtee. She and Virginia (Anderson) nurtured and nudged me to help welcome all, co-creating Seattle Center Arts Academy, retooling Festal. I learned so much about joy and navigation from Judy. With these mentors, I was the first person of color inducted into the Seattle Center Academy Legion of Honor. Judy was a fierce joyful warrior, warm, loving and real. Rest in peace and power, Ms. Judy. Though sad, we continue to move forward knowing you are. always with us.

Samuel Wildman

I loved it when Judy got going. One of my fav Judy roasts happened up at the cabin when I was in my mid 20's. A few of us were playing cards and having some drinks and Judy was entertaining. She was telling us that 31 was a great age. The best. But that was also a pivotal age. She emphasized that if you hadn't figured out your life by 31 you may as well not be bothered. That it was too late, and you'd amount to nothing. We all paused to consider. She looked to the person next to her and asked how old he was. He was 33. Judy looked back at all of us and said, "Well, too bad about him". classic Judy roast :)

Adam Banks

The other funny story that comes to mind is the time when John first met her. We were at dinner in New York and John was seated across from her. He accidentally took a sip of her wine. And Judy delivered an unforgettable look - the face of being appalled - and then said: "you should know better than coming between me and a glass". A classic moment, with long laughs to follow.

Sai Chaleunphonh

Judy came to our construction site to see the progress for herself of the affordable housing project at the Pacific Medical center site where she was on the board for many years. She came in a foot support boot, cane and Michael at her side. I could see her a block away determined to climb over the piles and piles of dirt and six flights of stairs to see the progress of construction from top to bottom. That woman got way more than 10,000 steps in that day. I learned she took a fall earlier on some stairs but that did not stop her. She came back again the second time early last year to see the finished units. This time the elevator was working but she walked the entire length of the halls twice, over 1/2-mile, minus boot. Judy was one tough cookie and spoke her mind about our civic responsibility to the people of Seattle. We already missed you.

Chris Hurley

Judy's long and deep friendship with Scott Glasscock was central to her Seattle story. His death in 2005 left her with an unshakeable grief. After many attempts to find the way to come to peace with his loss, Judy hatched a plan to set Scott free and float his metaphoric ashes down the Ganges River from Varanasi. Armed with a paper wreath of flowers drawn by her friend Jeffry Mitchell, Judy and a small band of supporters met in Varanasi in the spring of 2013. Downstream from the ghats, on a low rocky point, the group gathered quietly for the burning of the wreath. At first the wind on the river seemed bent on defeating the flame. After many failed attempts, an Indian man and his young son approached, offering their coats to shield the flames. Crouching together on the shore, the flowers finally caught flame. Judy let go and watched them swirl and slowly sink into the river. And with that, she set him free.

Leyla Gheisar

The clearest memory I have of Judy Tobin is the story that I believe best describes what I loved about her: her candor, directness, and her dry wit. My mother had just sent my twin and I to a Girl Scout horse camp. Over dinner on your balcony, my sister told Judy about our horse adventures and about all the quirky people we'd met at camp. Judy smiled, nodded, and replied with a chuckle, "I went to horse camp once, too." Expecting a lighthearted story about breaking curfew or a prank gone wrong, Zoya and I leaned in. Judy then proceeded to tell us about how a young girl she went to camp with went missing and was found dead days later. The juxtaposition of the energy of the two stories-- Girl Scout horse camp and then Judy's unfortunate horse camp experience-- was hilarious and remains hilarious in retrospect. Her direct nature complemented that iconic Judy humor so well, and there are so many fond memories I have of her making me laugh when I wasn't expecting it.

Dave Lipe

Of course I have specific memories of Judy in my life, but when I think of her now it is her overall character that I remember. Razor sharp, smart as hell, kind, generous, and never shy to set a fella back on the right path. Judy definitely had "a thing or two" to say to me over the years, and I am so grateful. I'm comforted to think of her with the wildflowers and dry grass around the Temple - working with her and Mike on that building was an enormous privilege. Hats off to Judy!

Victoria Haven

"I wonder what Judy will have to say about this direction"... is the very loud thought I had 2 weeks ago while working on a new painting. She had yet to visit my new space - a ritual over 30 years old now. I feel unprepared for that ritual to end. She's been to every studio I've had since I met her through Gail nearly 4 decades ago. Her commitment and eagerness to show up for whatever I was up to has been electric and uplifting. Even if it mystified her (and she'd let me know if it did:) her support was unwavering! Belief in art and in the ARTIST was one of Judy's true superpowers. That I ended up in her orbit of artists, shared experience, friendship, love and support is a miraculous, once-in-a-lifetime gift.

Gail Grinnell and Benjamin Wildman

We could not be more grateful for your unwavering loyal support of our family all these 40+ years including almost every holiday as we fumbled though the mysterious process of parenting our children - Daniel, Taylor, Hannah and Samuel. All are solid and we are confident they will continue to make the best of their time on the planet no matter the circumstances - a trait nurtured and witnessed by you both.

Ellen Ferguson

Judy Tobin was a very funny woman. Comments from her at any Wing Luke board meeting were often accompanied by a slap to the forehead and an "Oh, Jude!" when you couldn't quite believe what just came out of her mouth. Usually an unexpected, hilarious and honest remark that was surprisingly well received because it hit upon some unspoken truth. Friendship with Tobin was never dull, always a gift.

Beverly Martin

One of the things I love about Judy is that even though she had just under a million friends, she always makes you feel that you are her favorite friend and has plenty of time to spend with you. Judy hasn't worn much make-up for years, influenced by some of her good friends. Now and then she would startle me with a question like "why are you still wearing mascara?" when we were talking about politics.

George Martin

We were held up for almost an hour on a road in Yellowstone. When we finally were let through we saw that the reason for the delay was that everyone was getting out to photograph a buffalo. Judy's disgust was yelled out, "One Fucking Buffalo!!!" We use "1 F B" now whenever it seems appropriate!

Katie Williamson

Judy so kindly invited me -- a teenager—into her home to cook. I remember catering a big dinner party for her friends!! She had faith in my abilities at a time when I did not have much confidence in myself. I will always be grateful for her encouragement and kindness towards me during a difficult time in my life.

Carol Van Valkenburg

Judy was 10 years older than I, and most of my older siblings were boys. So, I vividly recall that when I came to care about such things, she was, in my mind, and likely in reality too, a gorgeous, sophisticated ingenue. How I wanted to look and be like her. And I especially loved her voice. How to describe it: maybe a little husky, but also melodic. We have a picture I cherish of all the cousins, or all 9 of what would become 10 eventually. She stood out. We were mostly gawky; the boys having not grown into their bodies and the girls pretty much ugly ducklings. Not Judy. A sophisticate, just like the post-teens so popular on tv and the magazines I pored over. But as I grew older and changed, I saw that Judy changed too. What mattered to her were the things I grew to understand weren't looks or glamour. She cared about fairness and social justice. And one year when I visited her, we went to the Wing Luke Museum because not only did she want to show me the place she cared so much about, but she was thrilled that a book I'd written was on display there. She was our oldest cousin, our cheerleader, our role model and God, will we miss her.

Dora Raymundo

Around 30 years ago I started working with Judy. Since I met her, she has always worried about my needs and wants. A little bit ago I felt ill, and Judy was always worried about my wellbeing. Even though I was unable to work she always sent me a weekly check and shared with me "even though I couldn't work, the bills didn't understand that". I will always be grateful for having her in my life and will dearly miss her. May god have a beautiful place prepared for her because of the wonderful person she was.

Faith Fogarty

Judy was of royal caliber but totally without pretension. I found this out early on when at some big political event, I got into the elevator where Judy was talking to a prominent, national politician from WA state, and when she noticed me, she turned her conversation away from the bigwig to say "Hi, Faith" and started talking to me! - a nobody! I hardly knew her then, but after that, I was hooked.

Jane Tobin

On the upper driveway at 642, you helped me take off my training wheels on my bicycle. I can remember you giving me a slight push and off I went. Oh, yes, the famous underwear fight and Anna sewing different threads for yours and my underwear. The time Nora and Marilyn Smith were mean to me, and you gave them a tongue lashing. Sitting at the bottom of the stairs to your bedroom while you and Pete caught up when you came home from Dominican. Waiting at the Cathedra for confession. You were ahead of me in the confessional talking to the priest about a banned book list you were supposed to read. All of a sudden, you burst out of the confessional muttering to yourself, I think saying "what a stupid person."

Shefali Modi

Her house was unlike any I had ever been in. It felt like a museum—not in a cold or distant way, but in the way every object seemed to hold a story, every painting chosen with care. Judy was very particular about the lighting on each art piece. She knew exactly how the light should fall, where it should shine, how it should draw your eye without overpowering. It reflected how she lived—with attention, intention, and deep appreciation for beauty.

Margery Baker and Darryl Banks

Judy graciously allowed us to bring our kids to their wedding. At the time they were 4, 6, and 8. We did our best before and during the event to make sure the kids were going to be on their best behavior. Unfortunately, David, our energetic one, got so excited about the view from the back deck that - not realizing the outside glass doors were there (because they were cleaned as only Judy could ensure they were) - ran smack into the doors, bounced off, hit a beautiful and very sharp piece of art, which didn't impale him, but did cause it to bleed profusely. We rushed him into the kitchen so he could bleed on the kitchen floor - and we then looked around to see how Judy was reacting - had we totally ruined her wedding day. She was very nonchalant - seemingly not at all concerned - we got the bleeding stopped and the wedding went on. This was the essence of Judy - calm under pressure, and, I have always thought, caring about how we felt.

David Moseley

When I ran for the City Council in 1981, no one really knew me and I was having trouble finding a place to hold my kickoff event. But I did know Judy Tobin. I was telling Judy about my trouble getting a place and she said, "Oh, I'll get you a place. And she did; at her friend Linda Farris Gallery. As the day of the event got closer, I was very anxious about whether anyone would show up. Judy said, "Oh you'll get a crowd. They may not come to see you but they'll come to see Linda's art."

Marlys Erickson

I found the most Tobin-esque quote I'd ever heard out of her mouth. My sister had just died and Tobin very sweetly took the time to write me a note. And it said ... "I know she suffered greatly but death is death and it's hard to bear." Succinct and pretty perfect Tobin don't ya think?

Georgia and Mike Murach

For her bounty, / There was no winter in it, / An autumn it was / That grew the more by reaping. / Her delights were dolphin-like, / They showed her back above / The element in which she lived.

Anne Fennessy

Judy was a lady of opinions and courtesy. She loved promptness and loathed pompousness. She hated bigotry, bad manners and respected people who looked at the world through a different lens than hers. Her focus was on the future and the emerging - be it art, civic activism, film and plays. And she treasured friendships - and nurtured them over walks, drinks, dinner and trips. I always wanted to sit next to her at a dinner party; just to hear her 'asides'.

Barbara Johns

Judy entered and left my life looking at art. We met though Linda Farris, and I would often see the two of them at galleries or museums. In recent months when Judy could no longer drive, I would pick her up and we'd aim for an art show and lunch. On one of the last I introduced her to Taswira, a new gallery run by the young, vivacious, and ambitious (in the best sense of the word) Avery Barnes. Judy was captivated. She asked lots of question, and she bought a painting on the spot. I'm not sure how much was the painting's appeal and how much Judy's desire to support Avery's bold endeavor. Both represented Judy's heart and spirit through and through. Oh, how I miss her.

Christina Lockwood

Judy and I met whilst she was moving into her new home on our lane in 1974...we looked at each other and could tell this can work and giving each other a welcome hug, a lasting Friendship began and continued. Being able to laugh, hug and say I love you before she and Mike left for NYC was a gift I will always carry with me.

Jim Lockwood

I met Judy Tobin back in the 70's when we bought a house on High Lane and became neighbors. Judy let us stay in her house while ours was being remodeled. She was smart funny and generous and her Christmas parties were not to be missed. I like to doodle. So, when we took a trip, I'd mail her a little drawing, a cartoon from wherever we landed. Judy saved them always and responded with a comment or witty note.

Nick Licata

I fondly remember Judy sitting with a small group of us in the living room of the Capitol Hill Prag House mansion. An informal group of friends, and friends of friends, gathered to discuss how to stop the nuclear weapons race. We were searching for an innovative and fun way to raise lots of money to get our message across to the public. We were bouncing ideas around, and Judy was one of the folks who thought about it most systematically. And still with a light touch of humor that pushed us forward to keep kicking around the best ideas.

Thomas Goldstein

I fell hard for Judy's bravado. In meetings and in life, I quickly learned that in Judy's world there was no room for dull pencils. You were either in or out. She was a take-no-prisoners frontier gunslinger, minus the gun. I'm reminded of the scene in No Country for Old Men where Javier Bardem's character eviscerates the equivocation of a hapless gas station owner. Judy could likewise vanquish the timid with a wave of her finger or clearing of her throat.

Bing Tso and Janet Gwilym

For nearly as long as I have worked at SBW (over three decades now), Judy was a fixture at company parties and picnics. My wife Janet and I always looked forward to catching up with her at each event. Janet, who worked in the non-profit sector, was regularly amazed at how well-known and beloved Judy was in those circles. Moreover, she was always heartened by Judy's keen interest in and strong support for her immigration work. Judy also cared deeply about SBW staff, including me. Judy always spoke up about what she saw. Janet and I both relished her honest praise of those on staff doing incredible work (as well her sharp words about those who fell short). Judy missed nothing, but we certainly will miss her and her rare ability to not only discern the truth but speak it and act on it. May you rest in peace, Judy. We know you're still out there watching over us.

Bookda Gheisar

I met Judy in September of 2000 when I applied for the position of Executive Director of ATR foundation. I was a single mom who had given birth to twins just 4 months prior to the interview. I was exhausted and had very little confidence in my ability to effectively manage my life at that moment. But somehow after much support and encouragement from Alice Ito, I applied. I walked into the board room to meet with the board president, Judy Tobin. I was so nervous and so tired. I think there were two interviews with board members. As I was being walked out of the last interview I said, I am not really sure that I can do this job because I have just had two kids and I am raising them by myself. And I added, do you want to see a picture? Judy said, oh, honey, I have no interest in children. And I am absolutely confident you can do the job. I started the job and worked there closely with Judy for 8 years. A few years later when my kids were in middle school, we started having monthly-ish dinners. She grew fond of Leyla and Zoya and always had many questions prepared about identity, gender, sexual orientation, city politics and many other topics ready for discussion! And there lies the complex paradox of Judy Tobin!