Kali Jean Randall was a vibrant soul whose life was a tapestry of creativity, wilderness exploration, and deep familial bonds—a woman who forged her path from the heartlands of Wisconsin to the rugged embrace of Idaho’s Teton Mountains. Born in Ashland, Wisconsin, and raised in the Fox Valley area, Kali grew up immersed in a nurturing environment that sparked her lifelong love for hands-on creation and the outdoors. She graduated from Hortonville High School, where her artistic talents began to shine through pursuits like photography, pottery, and silversmithing—activities that earned her a blue ribbon and a sense of purpose she once described as transformative: “I had never really excelled in school, until I started creating with my hands.” Pursuing her passion for animals, she earned an Associate’s degree in veterinary technology from Madison Area Technical College, setting the stage for a career that blended technical skill with artistic expression.
In her twenties, Kali’s adventurous spirit propelled her westward, chasing the mountains and open skies that called to her nomadic heart. She made temporary homes in Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana before settling in Victor, Idaho, in 2009—a small town at the foot of the majestic Teton Range that she credited with reshaping her identity. “The Tetons took me from that naive Wisconsin girl to the strong woman I am today,” she wrote on Instagram, capturing the profound personal growth she experienced amid the peaks. There, Kali embraced a self-sufficient, nature-rooted lifestyle: raising chickens for fresh eggs, tending an herb garden, and captaining boats on Idaho’s waters as a licensed captain. She was an avid snowboarder, trail rider, and photographer, wandering rugged terrains and capturing the raw beauty of places like Argentina’s pampas, Mexico’s Riviera Maya, the Dry Tortugas, and Budapest’s historic streets. Her wanderlust was matched only by her curiosity, often shared through candid social media posts that drew thousands of followers.
Professionally, Kali channeled her silversmithing passion into KalicoForest, an online shop where she hand-tooled intricate silver jewelry embedded with local gems and minerals, photographing each piece against natural backdrops to evoke the earth’s quiet elegance. What began as gifts for friends in Teton Valley evolved into a budding reputation as an artist, with her work symbolizing resilience—pieces forged through fire, much like the metal she shaped. She also worked at local spots like Pearl Street Bagels in Wilson, Wyoming, where colleagues remembered her warmth and infectious energy. Influenced by her father Scott’s career as a professional baker, Kali became a master of artisan sourdough, even crafting homemade baby foods as she stepped into motherhood.
Motherhood arrived with Zeke Best in January 2023, a joy that “clicked” for Kali in ways that amplified her protective instincts and creative fire. At 38, she was six months pregnant with their daughter, Freya, when tragedy struck, but those brief months with Zeke were filled with tender milestones: baking loaves together, exploring trails, and sharing videos of their bond that lit up her Instagram feed. Kali’s family—rooted in Wisconsin—remained her anchor. She was the daughter of Scott Randall and Tom Rihm, with mother Jean Lindisch Randall Rihm; sister Emma Brice ( husband Adam Brice and Child Lainey ); and brother Brian Randall, whose own family (wife Janel and children Aubrey and Jaxon) mirrored the close-knit circle Kali cherished. Cousins like Meg Fischer recalled joyful gatherings, such as a September 2023 visit to Wisconsin where the family marveled at Zeke’s chubby cheeks and Kali’s radiant motherhood, unaware it would be their last.
Kali’s marriage to Jeremy Best, a man she had built a life with in Victor, appeared outwardly stable to loved ones, with no public signs of the escalating tensions that would culminate in unimaginable horror. Yet, on November 30, 2023, the facade shattered. That evening, around 11:40 p.m., an open 911 call from their Skyline Loop home captured Kali’s desperate screams—”Jeremy, no!”—amid Jeremy’s erratic pleas of love, followed by gunshots. Deputies arrived to find Kali, fatally shot and unresponsive; she was pronounced dead at the scene, her unborn daughter Freya lost with her.
Jeremy fled with 10-month-old Zeke, prompting an Amber Alert. Two days later, on December 2, hunters discovered him naked in a sleeping bag on a snowy road near Idaho Falls,near the parked SUV. Zeke’s tiny body was found inside, his throat slashed—a detail that haunted investigators and family alike.
Kali’s legacy endures through the very name that defined her artistry: KalicoForest, now a nonprofit sanctuary for survivors of domestic violence, channeling her silversmith spirit into programs like Silver Roots—empowering women with skills forged in resilience, much like the jewelry she once crafted. Friends and family remember her not just as a victim, but as a “rock star” mother, a light who made others feel seen and safe, her roots deep in the mountains that shaped her unyielding grace. In her own words, through her creations and wanderings, Kali lived as a testament to growth amid adversity—rooted, radiant, and forever blooming.