One biological child and 551 adopted.
Suzanne Taber, affectionately dubbed “Mama Tabes” by her students, died unexpectedly on June 26, just three days after watching her daughter, Cassidy, and the rest of the Class of 2014 graduate.
On paper, she was their class sponsor, but a more accurate title for her role would be the Class Mother. She made sure students knew they were always welcome to drop by her room near the Main Office, and from food, to beanbag chairs, to a constant supply of Diet Coke, Mama Tabes had it all for her children.
The long-time school Finance Technician wanted nothing more than to watch every one of her “kids” walk across the stage at graduation and if it took a few meals from Panera to keep them showing up at school, she viewed the investment as a small price to pay.
“The amount of food that I consumed in her room was probably too much but she never asked for anything,” said alum Scott King. “She just loved her students unconditionally.”
But Taber’s generosity and open door to all was not limited to the Class of 2014. It was open to everyone, students and staff alike.
“Her office was like a haven for people. I would sometimes go to her office to hide, when I needed to decompress,” said English teacher Holli Wolter, who remembers how Taber always had a Diet Coke and a warm smile ready for her when she needed to relax for a few minutes.
The food and beverages certainly didn’t hurt Taber’s reputation in the school, but for everyone who knew her, they were side notes—a reflection of her warmth and generosity that she expressed in everything she did. What people noticed first, and continued to notice every time they were with her, was Taber’s laugh.
“Nothing compared to her laugh. It was loud and obnoxious and it just made me laugh more,” said Class of 2014 graduate Hashim Murad.
She had a sense of humor about everything, and her personality could instantly make anyone feel at home. It was that part of her that made Taber’s office the place to be for anyone who needed someone to talk to or even just a place to sit back and unwind.
“She always had the ability to make people feel at ease,” said Director of Student Activities Andy Muir. “We could always laugh at each other and we could always laugh at ourselves and I think that was one of her big personality traits.”
But beneath her funny stories, infectious laugh and seemingly inexhaustible supply of Diet Coke lay someone who cared deeply about everyone around her.

“She put everyone ahead of herself. She wanted everyone else to be happy before she wanted herself to be happy,” said 2014 graduate Scott Berger.
Taber made a point to leave people better off than they were before they saw her. She worked hard, both in her official job and in her acquired job of mother to more than 500 students, to make other people’s lives easier.
“Whenever I needed her there, she came in. She gave everything she had back into that building—110 percent,” said former WS principal Paul Wardinski, who worked closely with Taber during his four years here.
Taber worked tirelessly to ensure last year’s seniors had the best year possible. She played truant officer to the seniors who skipped, tutor to the kids who needed extra help and, perhaps most importantly, she provided life lessons to anyone who sought guidance.
“She always made it known to the boys that their work was never good enough, all while teaching us how to be okay with imperfection,” said her daughter, Cassidy.
Taber knew people in every circle. She worked with students, teachers and administrators, but her warmth, humor and constant desire to get to know and help people made her more than just the school’s Finance Technician. Taber was the person anyone could go to, at any time, with any problem.
“[She was a] different type of adult, in a good way. She just interacted with students differently and it worked. She had a way of getting to them,” said Berger.
She was everyone’s friend, but that doesn’t mean Taber was afraid to give a little tough love when she felt someone might benefit. Many Class of 2014 grads remember her not just as the woman who bought them Chipotle but the woman who gave them some hard advice to make sure they graduated.
“She gave them the extra kick in the pants to get through that graduation hurdle,” said Wolter.
And it worked. More than a few students credit the diplomas they received last year at least partly to Taber. She kept them motivated as senioritis set in and attendance plummeted.
“As seniors, all you ever want to do is leave high school. By the time you’ve experienced four years of BS, busy work, parents, rules, you’re ready to move out on your own,” said King. “But that woman worked tirelessly to help us get through senior year.”
Taber treated every member of the Class of 2014 like they were her own child, so an outsider might not have even noticed at first that one of those students was her child. Cassidy graduated last year with the rest of her class and continued on to Longwood this fall.
“When I reached the end of the stage [as] a new graduate, she was the first person I saw. She gave me the biggest hug,” Cassidy said. “I would give anything to have that moment back.”
Taber died at Fairfax Hospital just three days later. She passed away too soon but still managed to teach everyone in her life something to live by.
“It’s very cliché, but you need to live every day like it’s your last, because you never know,” said Wolter. “And she did do that. She lived every day like it was her last.”