Eugene Woman's 7,000 Puzzles Could Break World Record

Gail Wickstrom spent decades quietly building what might be the world's largest jigsaw puzzle collection in her Eugene, Oregon home. When she died last September at 80, she left behind more than 7,000 puzzles and a devoted friend determined to honor her memory.

Now Bob Kendall, her high school classmate and friend, is working to secure two Guinness World Records in her name. The current record for largest puzzle collection stands at 4,060 puzzles, while Wickstrom had over 7,000.

The numbers tell an even more impressive story when it comes to completed puzzles. The current record holder finished 2,453 puzzles, but Wickstrom completed 6,000 over her lifetime.

Wickstrom was a librarian at the University of Oregon, and she brought that same meticulous attention to her puzzles. She cataloged each one in a digital spreadsheet, noting when she purchased and completed them.

Her storage units stand alphabetized with sparkly labels. Inside each puzzle box, she left detailed notes about her experience, sometimes calling out poor quality or "vexing" designs with too many duplicate pieces.

Shirley Henderson, her best friend since they were 18, remembers Wickstrom always having a puzzle in progress. The two worked together at the UO library and stayed close throughout their lives, regularly borrowing puzzles from each other.

Henderson noticed her friend never lent out horse-themed puzzles, understanding they meant something special. She still has the last puzzle Wickstrom lent her, a mountain scene she hasn't yet assembled.

Kendall reconnected with Wickstrom later in life through monthly alumni lunches. He would borrow bags full of puzzles each month, and she'd work through hers while watching Sunday morning news shows.

When Kendall suggested pursuing the world record while she was alive, Wickstrom demurred. She was a private person who preferred quiet satisfaction over public recognition.

Sunny's Take

Sometimes the most extraordinary achievements happen in the quietest corners of our lives. Wickstrom didn't build her collection for fame or records. She simply loved the meditative work of fitting thousands of tiny pieces into beautiful wholes, one Sunday morning at a time.

Now her friend is making sure the world knows about her remarkable dedication. It's a reminder that true friendship means celebrating someone's passion, even after they're gone.