Suzanne Christine Huston
Jan. 31, 1960—Oct. 12, 2011
Suzanne Christine Huston, born January 31, 1960, Asunción, Paraguay to missionary parents Ernest and Lucy Huston, died on October 12, 2011. “Susi” lived most of her growing-up years in Paraguay, attending the Asunción Christian Academy, from which she graduated in 1977. She attended Greenville College, Illinois from 1977 to 1979, and graduated from Eastern Mennonite College in 1983 with a Bachelor’s degree in Camping, Recreation and Youth Activities. She moved to Southern California that same year and taught for five years. In 1987 Susi suffered an automobile accident that left her quadriplegic. She lived the rest of her life in Pasadena with her parents.
Susi spoke fluent Spanish. She loved sports and followed avidly the LA area teams. She enjoyed music. She learned to play the guitar and sing. Church was a big part of Susi’s life. She was a member of the Hermon Free Methodist Church
Susi’s favorite activity was cycling. Among her significant accomplishments, were two coast-to-coast bicycle trips, one with a group and one by herself. She also developed an interest in running and competed in the 1987 Los Angeles Marathon.Susi is survived by her father, her brothers David, Jim, Richard and Andrew, and 11 nieces and nephews.Sue … What Truly Matters in Life
"Sue was a monster prayer warrior, a slight shift from the monster on a bike she was when she first started living with my family and I. She rode everywhere, including across America, kicking cars that crossed into her line along the way. Lots of huzbah in that girl! That's why it was quite an adjustment to see her laying in a bed unable to turn the television channel without some help. And yet, the paralysis didn't stop her. The focus of her wander lust simply shifted from roads to the depths of the reality of God. When I would visit Sue I often felt like I was going to visit someone not of this earth. It seemed like her meeting with me was only a brief pause from her perpetual conversation with the Father - a conversation that seemed to gradually consume her anger and despair over her personal tragedy. If anybody has ever truly tasted and seen that the Lord is good, Sue did. Over the years I saw her grow in peace and in faith neither of which diluted one bit her spunk. Thank God. I'm sure the spunk came in handy in more than one of her times of wrestling with God.
Ironically, Sue was getting in shape all those days in her bed. She was in training for another reality, another place where God's presence rights all the wrongs and the weight of life is exchanged for the glory of God. She was talking to the Creator on our behalf more than we'll ever know - a couple times I am sure her prayers were answered on my behalf. For that, I will miss her ministry here on earth. She carried many of us in ways we'll only be privy to once we too pass from this life to the next.
So today I celebrate with Sue that she has finally shed her limits. I can't wait to shed mine, but in the meantime, I toast and celebrate the life of Sue Huston that was lived by and under the presence of the living God. Sue is and will always be a reminder to me of what truly matters in life." Jason Denison
Susi
by Diana Moline Gruber on Wednesday, October 12, 2011 at 1:19pm
One of my lifetime best friends passed away this morning. Susi was only 51 years old. I guess I need to write about her - as a way to work through missing her. Don't feel like you have to read the whole thing... this is mostly for me.
I first heard about Susi at Greenville College, IL. I had just transferred in for my sophomore year, she was beginning her freshman year, 1977. It was during my time at Greenville that I realized I had a magnet like attraction for missionary kids (MK’s) and artists. But that first semester, all I could think about with this 'Suzanne Huston,' was that she was a whiny, over-spoiled student. Seems she just couldn't fit into the culture, having lived as an MK most of her life in Paraguay. Her devoted older brother, Dick, was always by her side, and if not him, then a cadre of people taking care of her. One day, some students even orchestrated a Paraguayan parade for her!
I found out later, that she had similarly unkind thoughts toward me. Who did this tanned, blond, skinny, California girl think she was? She was always yelling at friends across campus, thrilling at every season, and acting like everything was new and wonderful. The fact was, I was going through about as much culture - and weather - shock as she was. We were both figuring things out, and didn't approve of each other, and hoped to never make an acquaintance.
My second year there, I decided to add a Spanish minor, and so was asked if I would like to move to the "Spanish House" the second semester. "Only speak in Spanish" while in the house was the rule. I decided to take on this new challenge, and left a dear roommate, to launch into something new. I was assigned a beautiful, huge room, in a turn of the century home, with large, six foot windows, that had a seat built into them. There was, however, one major drawback - Suzanne Huston, my new roommate. Oh well, better make the best of it.
We laughed later at the things that drove us nuts about each other that first week. I would lay in my bed eating carrot sticks while I studied. She hated the sound of my crunching. She would refuse to speak Spanish to me - because of my lack of skill.
But then it happened. We became friends. She played guitar and we loved to sing together - Gordon Lightfoot, Neil Diamond, worship songs. She decided to become my running partner, and we even went out for track together. She was not a runner, and I had to become her trainer. Each day I would stretch her to go another block. She would agonize and complain, but she would never give up. I think that was the last time I ever had to encourage her to try harder with anything. She seemed to never again look at hard things as insurmountable - she became the one to lead the way and be the encourager. One night, we'd been up late studying and needed to get to bed. We were agonizing over the fact that we still needed to wash our hair, and had not yet had our run. It just seemed too late to do both. Well, I had the brilliant idea that we could do both at once, since it was raining outside. So we put shampoo in our hair and went out to run. What is better for a shampoo than rain water? Within a few blocks, we had no suds, and had to quickly get home, half blinded with all the soap in our eyes.
We only broke a few rules while in college by going out dancing a few times, and sitting on the roof of our house drinking a glass of wine. (Though that last one was hardly worth it, since we both got called into the Dean's office afterwards. We had that "celebratory glass" over Easter break. No one had invited us home with them - so we felt we had the right. Oh, but how we panicked. As it ended up, we were both being encouraged not to miss so many chapels, no one knew of our glass of "red red wine" until today.)
After that spring semester 1979, Susi learned of a Mennonite ministry called Outspoken, that led long distance bike rides, and would work with them, and I, having been burned out from all my yearbook editing hours, decided to serve the summer in the Dominican Republic, and then take a year off in California to make some money, before returning to Greenville to graduate. So in May, I went with a few friends to take Susi and her guitar to the St. Louis airport. We thought it was "good-bye" forever. Those were the days that we were allowed to accompany friends onto the plane and give our last hugs. I still remember carrying her guitar, blinded by tears of grief, sobbing uncontrollably, knocking people over with the case, and trying to be apologetic. Susi too, was overwhelmed with emotion. Goodbye forever.
It just took a few letters back and forth from Pennsylvania, where Susi was living with her brother David, to the D.R. for us to figure in a rendezvous. I would join her at the end of the summer to ride with Outspoken, from Canada into Pennsylvania. How we laughed, just 3 months after our tearful forever, goodbye that we were together again. Letters continued back and forth. I visited her in Indiana - more fun times meeting all her riding cohorts and making new friends. I think she also worked with another bike touring organization.
I had graduated, finished my first year of teaching, had an apartment, and was taking summer classes at Cal State LA, in 1982, to get my CA teaching credential. Who should show up at my door - but Susi, on her bike. She had just ridden ALONE from Washington to my door in Pico Rivera, CA. Her job as a bike tour guide was completed with the ride from the East Coast to the West. Now she needed to ride her bike back to Virginia and finish her college career. She asked me to go with her. I talked to my profs at Cal State LA, they said they would give me one week off. I rode with Susi as far as Colorado Springs, then she finished the ride on her own. What an adventure! We were interviewed by a newspaper in Indio, CA. They were kind enough to forward us the article.
How amazing was God's care for us. The day of the interview we had been kicked off interstate 10 - the route Susi picked for us to get to Phoenix. We ran out of water - we wandered through the desert - who drives through the desert when there's the interstate? But there were miracles. God allowed us the most amazing experiences. I was at the depths of myself, physically, emotionally, and spiritually on that ride, but also the heights. Susi and I had epic fights, and incredible conversations. I heard of many stories of how God rescued her when death seemed certain. It was a 10 day ride that had a lifetime of experiences. How much more so, Susi's life thus far, with all the experiences she had already lived!
When she graduated from Eastern Mennonite College - EMC - in 1984 I think, she decided to live in California, with Jim and Shirley Denison in Pasadena, and I was able to get her a job at Light and Life Christian School as a P.E. teacher, until she could find something full time.
Adventure resumed! We hiked to the top of Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the 48 states. Her major had taught her all about back packing and using ice picks and those special strap-ons to hike through ice and snow. We only got one pair, not really thinking we'd need them. We should have had two. I began figuring out that Susi knew quite a bit, but she wasn't always actually prepared. She was a good "pull it off anyway" kinda girl. As we stood freezing on the summit, trying to get a picture, all I could think is "the picture is not worth it to me, let's get off this mountain." How I remember the words she spoke to me as we posed for the picture, "We are sweltering here on this sunshiny day, dripping sweat, how nice it would be to have some shade. Oh I am so hot! Now smile and look hot!" She spoke a smile onto my face as I stood in wind chill of about 40 below. That was Susi.
Our lives started growing apart. I would hear about her new teaching job, boyfriend problems, and helping with Hermon Free Methodist - but we didn't get together too often for a couple years. Then I received a call from my friend Jesus Sigala, on a summer day in 1988 I think. He asked if I had heard about Susi's accident. My mom and I drove, a couple days later, to Salt Lake City, so I could visit her. It was confirmed, she would never be able to walk. She was a quadriplegic. I learned that she ran the LA Marathon a couple days before the car accident. How would such a physically active person ever be able to survive the confining nature of this accident? I was afraid to face what I thought would be a very angry and depressed friend.
Well, she surprised me. She was happy to see me, we went for a drive in the mountains, she worked hard at her physical therapy, and she never spoke of remorse... never... not once in more than 20 years ... she took what happened as part of life. We did pray frequently for healing - but she never dwelt on the "what ifs" and "poor me" - I don't think I would have done so well.
Our adventures continued when she returned to CA. The classic "dropping her on the curb" while trying to do transfers from wheel chair to car, to spilling food and drink on her, as I never quite mastered feeding her. We took her on my "30th Birthday hike" - we made it half way to Henniger Flats, when we realized that we were jolting her a bit too much on the rocky trail; her dad, Ernie, taught me how to lock in her wheel chair to the modified van - so we could go out to eat, see movies, plays, concerts. We had lots of fun. Though, never enough. Seems my life - getting married, having 3 kids, working, would steal time away from Susi. But even then, she never complained, she always understood. I watched God meet her relational needs throughout the years. There was always a new friend. The friendship with her mom was the sweetest. She went from tolerating, and not wanting her parents to bother in the early days after the accident, to bonding, and having the closest of relationships with her parents. It was a beautiful thing.
On Tuesday, September 6, 2011, Susi suffered a stroke. Doctors don't know how she survived it, as it attacked the respiratory part of her brain. We had several conversations over these past weeks... mostly confused. Though she did admonish me for being concerned about Davita riding her bike on Washington highways. I was able to say goodbye to her before we left to take Davita to Washington. I thought I would be able to see her today. But just before leaving for the hospital, I got a call that she passed away earlier this morning, Wednesday, October 12.
She was always my prayer warrior. Her memory for detail amazed me. She kept track of my kids' lives, my husband's, my church's. We loved to share what we learned in the Word, and what God was always teaching us. I had a very rich friendship with Susi - and I will miss her. I am, however, glad for her - she is now walking, running, being with her most revered Savior. She is singing and worshiping Him - I am fully convinced. She always had a beautiful voice - and now! What glory for her!
