A native of West Chester, Pennsylvania, Sue earned her bachelor’s degree in health, physical education, and recreation from Ursinus College, a master’s in health education from SUNY Cortland, and a Ph.D. in special education from Syracuse University. Starting in the 1970s, Sue served as an educational consultant for the Cortland County Department of Health’s Division of Family Planning and the Cortland/Madison BOCES Adolescent Pregnancy project. From 1981-85, Sue directed the College for Living, a continuing education program for adults with disabilities based at Onondaga Community College and funded by the New York State Office of Mental Retardation and Developmental Disabilities. From 1985-91, she was associate project director for the Technical Assistance for Parent Programs (TAPP) at Syracuse University’s Center on Human Policy. She also served as an administrator and classroom support teacher at the Jowonio School in Syracuse from 1994-95. Also in 1995, Sue coordinated the Master’s Program in Special Education at Syracuse University’s Utica Campus and taught classes in special education at Syracuse University. Starting in 1996, she worked as an assistant professor of education and child studies at the Center for Humanities and Education at Cazenovia College. Then, in 1999, she joined the faculty of SUNY Cortland, where she developed a new Special Education/Childhood program and founded the college’s Institute for Disability Studies. In addition to these roles, Sue served for two years as the president of the Autism National Committee and was a member of the Federal Research Commission on Facilitated Communication. She authored several books and collaborated on a variety of research projects, in addition to consulting with numerous school districts and organizations serving the disability community. Strong-willed and tenacious, she was a tireless advocate for families and an ally of self-advocates around the US.
That was the professional Sue. At home in Tully, Sue was the mom all our friends wanted to adopt (and many did). She kept all of us going in a chaotic and loving household that welcomed everyone, anytime: neighbors, exchange students, relatives, colleagues, students, friends of friends passing through the area, and even entire school classes. The house was rarely tidy, and the towels and sheets never matched. Still, all comers could count on a filling – if often eclectic – meal and attention to their needs, be it stimulating conversation or a quiet place to reflect, a boat ride, or a glass of wine by the wood stove. Sue was a great listener who always heard you out, even if she disagreed with your point of view. She took in whoever needed a home and did her best to support everyone she met. It was a common joke in the family that Sue was a magnet for people with autistic family members. It seemed like every time she went out to eat or stopped by a new store, she came across someone with an autistic child or sibling. And she offered each one the benefit of her wisdom and experience, often connecting families with services they didn’t know existed and making many new friends in the process.
Sue and Bob always tried to make things themselves instead of buying them, which was generally fun, if not always successful. They shingled two of their houses, built a lot of their own furniture, put in hardwood floors, walls, and ceilings, and even tiled their own kitchen counter. One of Sue’s favorite Mother’s Day gifts was a lightweight chainsaw she could use to cut wood to heat the house and make maple syrup from the trees in the yard. She loved to garden and was notorious for eating most of the tomatoes right off the vine before they even made it to the kitchen. Sue not only made her own clothes, but sewed everything from backpacks and bathing suits to costumes and wedding dresses for friends and family. She bought a pottery wheel and kiln so she could make her own dishes, used a glass cutter to make bowls out of wine bottles, and reupholstered chairs and sofas for the living room. One year, she decided to sew down vests for the entire family. After the first try resulted in goose down floating all around the house, she switched to polyester fiberfill for the rest. She and Bob even made leather sandals for all of us. We kids found ways to discreetly avoid wearing ours in public, but she and Bob wore theirs until they disintegrated decades later. These and numerous other homemade items – along with ceiling panels, lampshades, old coats, and various other items we found in the Tully house when we moved in – made it into several of our iconic Tully Lake Park Carnival parade floats. Sue hated dressing up for work, but she never minded putting on the most ridiculous costumes for Carnival. Our annual float planning meeting on the Fudges’ porch, with lots of wine and even more laughter, was always one of the highlights of her summer.
After Sue and Bob retired in 2005, they opted for a quiet life – or at least a quieter life, though it turned out to be full of adventure as well. They took a long camping trip across the country and back and then set about renovating the lake house that they had always called a process rather than a project. Once it was done, they realized it was too big for them and moved next door, where they embarked on more renovations, transforming a dumpy cottage into a charming home with enough space to host various children and grandchildren (and we did come and stay!) Sue finally bought the fancy sewing machine she had long coveted and then used it to make hats and mittens for an entire elementary school so every kid could play outside without freezing. As Bob’s Alzheimer’s disease progressed, Sue turned more and more to writing, something she had long loved but rarely found time for in the hustle and bustle of raising kids and grandkids while working full-time. Among other projects, she wrote about her own life, publishing Beautiful Ben – My Son with Autism in 2009 and Brilliant Bob – My Husband with Alzheimer’s Disease: Our Love Story in 2017. After Bob’s death in 2014, she also wrote a number of short stories and completed the manuscript for a novel (but never published any of them).
Life without Bob proved hard for Sue, even though she had gotten used to doing things on her own during the last years of his life. She had always been the impulsive, spontaneous one, while he was more cautious and deliberate, so without him, she seemed to feel unmoored. Supporting her kids and grandkids took a lot of her time and energy and she longed for a place of her own where she could live each day on her own terms. Once Daniele and DeForest moved out and she got Ben settled in a house of his own, Sue was happy to move into a little bungalow on Otisco Lake, where she could cozy up with her cats and her books while watching the birds and squirrels outside her window. After a few years there, when it was no longer safe for her to live alone, she and Penny bought a house together. This past year, Sue declined mentally and physically, and Penny did her best to care for her at home as long as possible. Penny brought her a kitten to snuggle with and put up a bird feeder right outside the big living room window where Sue liked to sit and watch the world go by. Sue died at home, where she hoped she would, leaving us with many happy memories and full hearts – and the knowledge that she would want us not to mourn her, but to make the most of every day, like she always tried to do.