I had the pleasure of meeting Suzanne later in life, and I only wish it had been sooner. As the current library director, I had no sugar-coated introductions from Suzanne—she was direct and clear about her expectations of me and for the library. But all I wanted was to do good work, because we shared the same deep love for the city of Lawrence and its people, especially the children.
Suzanne would always remind me not to overwork myself and would often ask about my son. One evening, I took my son to Canobie Lake Park for his first visit—a tired mom with her little one, looking to make special memories like my husband and I had growing up. Suzanne wasn’t on my mind that night, nor did I know she was working at the gift shop. We spent the day enjoying the rides, the sights, and just as the fireworks finale was approaching, we were debating the best spot to watch. Suddenly, there was Suzanne, a natural in the park she knew so well. She made our night even more magical, introducing us to the park’s mascots like Bruno, and giving my son a little gift from the shop. I hugged her and shared how wonderful our day had been. She smiled and said, “Give yourself a break, kid—you’re doing great. I love you.” It felt so natural to say, “I love you too.” She even directed us to the best fireworks viewing spot, which, of course, was the parking lot. She was right—my son fell asleep, and we avoided the traffic on the way home.
Thank you, Suzanne, for your wit, your spunk, and for paving the way for women like me. You were a fierce advocate and you were a true gem for all of us. No wonder Mary is a doctor—she had you as her mother. Rest in peace, Suzanne.
