Margaret "Peggy" Bunker

May 8, 1939 -

Jan 26, 2026

Margaret "Peggy" Bunker, beloved wife, mother, grandmother and caregiver, passed away on Jan. 26, 2026, at Mat-Su Regional Hospital in Palmer, Alaska. Born in 1939, in Jackson, Mich., to Merle and Madeline Grinnell, Peggy lived a life defined not by volume or spectacle, but by steadiness, devotion and a quiet strength that shaped her family and community for more than six decades.

Peggy grew up in southern Michigan, where she met and married her high school sweetheart, Gerald "Jerry" Bunker, at just 16 years old. Their marriage would span nearly 63 years and form the foundation of a shared life marked by movement, sacrifice and enduring partnership. From the beginning, Peggy carried her commitments seriously, assuming responsibility early and with little fanfare.

During Jerry's service in the U.S. Navy, Peggy lived on base in San Diego, Calif., often functioning as a single mother while Jerry was deployed for months at a time. It was there that she began raising their young family, learning early the strength required to hold things together quietly and reliably. After Jerry's honorable discharge in 1960, the family returned to Michigan, where their sons Glenn, Greg and Jeff were born, before eventually planning the move that would change the course of their lives.

In summer 1965, Peggy relocated to Alaska with Jerry and their three young sons, pregnant with their fourth, Aaron. Though Alaska was initially Jerry's dream, Peggy made it her home, anchoring the family through the uncertainties of a new place with calm resolve and unwavering care. While Alaska may have called to Jerry first, Peggy embraced it with quiet aplomb. Relatives back in Michigan were often surprised to learn that the shy, reserved girl they remembered was now thriving in the Last Frontier — packing a pistol on her hip and managing the camp and kids while Jerry, his cousins and uncles worked to build a remote cabin that would become a touchstone for their young family. Beneath her gentle demeanor was a strength and adaptability that surfaced naturally when circumstances demanded it.

Where Jerry was outwardly gregarious and magnetic, Peggy was reserved and steady — a perfect and necessary counterbalance. She once confided that she felt she lived in Jerry's shadow, but those closest to her saw something different entirely. Peggy was the emotional architecture of the family: the quiet presence that made everything else possible. She did not seek attention, but she commanded trust. She did not lead loudly, but she led faithfully.

As her children grew, Peggy began shaping an identity beyond her role as wife and mother, extending her caregiving nature into the wider community. She ran a successful in-home daycare, earning the trust of neighbors through her warmth, reliability and calm authority. She later managed the Spenard Kiddy Drop daycare center for many years, caring for countless children and supporting families during some of their most formative seasons. Her work was never about recognition; it was about responsibility, and she carried it well.

That same instinct later found its way back into her own family life, as Peggy lovingly provided daycare for different sets of grandchildren over the years. In doing so, she wove a family tapestry threaded with generational continuity — the same steady care, quiet presence and faithfulness she had offered to so many others. Peggy's gift was not spectacle but presence. She listened more than she spoke. She noticed what others missed. She remembered birthdays, worries and small details that mattered. In a life shared with a man drawn outward by adventure, Peggy created the home that made return possible — steady, welcoming and quietly strong. In her final years, that same quiet constancy remained — not dramatic, not easy, but faithful. Peggy met even the hardest seasons of life the same way she met all others: with resolve, humility and care for those around her.

Peggy was preceded in death by her son, Jeff, in 1988; and by her husband, Jerry, in 2019. She is survived by her sons, Glenn, Greg and Aaron, along with many grandchildren and great-grandchildren who were shaped, in ways both visible and unseen, by her enduring love.

In keeping with Peggy's nature, there will be no formal funeral service. A remembrance will be held and announced at a later date. Her legacy lives on not in grand gestures, but in the lives she held together — patiently, faithfully and well.