As an avid Indiana football fan, she made the trip to support her beloved Hoosiers.
As the girlfriend of reserve quarterback Gibran Hamdan, she made the trip to support her beloved boyfriend.
It didn't matter which of these roles Jenny was playing that night. She had infectious enthusiasm and a bright outlook on life that were welcomed in the underground quarters. Jenny helped ease the team's discomfort by playing cards with players, talking and doing what she did best — making new friends.
"She made it better for Buck, mostly," Hamdan said. "We had just lost and people were complaining. Everyone was on him and wanting a solution to the problem."
Little did Buck, Jenny or Gibran know that spending the night in a basement would be the least of their problems that year.
In mid-November, doctors diagnosed Jenny with glioblastoma multiforme, a deadly form of brain cancer.
On Dec. 29, 1999, Jenny passed away. She was 20 years old.
Jenny's first encounter with her disease ended in a typical display of her selflessness.
It was Nov. 2, 1999, Jenny's 20th birthday. After a celebratory dinner with her family, Jenny began experiencing flu-like symptoms.
In order to avoid infecting her Kappa Kappa Gamma sorority sisters, Jenny returned to her Bloomington home with her parents, Buck and Jane.
But the headaches persisted — sharp, blinding headaches. Then Jenny experienced double vision.
The Suhrs took Jenny to several doctors. After weeks of wondering, she was finally diagnosed with the deadly cancer.
The information on glioblastoma multiforme is about an enticing a read as The Hot Zone.
The American Medical Association defines the disease as a "fast-growing, cancerous brain tumor." It is most common in men, especially those ages 50 and older. Glioblastoma multiforme is broken into four grades with the fourth being the most severe.
Jenny was diagnosed with a Grade IV tumor.
Like the facts of the disease, the chances of survival were grim.
"Survival rates in patients with glioblastoma multiforme is uniformly poor," states the Vanderbilt Medical Center web site.
"The prognosis is very poor," two doctors, George Wu and Liangge Hsu, wrote in a 1994 report.
The doctors went on to say that after diagnosis, most patients usually live for eight to 10 months. After two years, there is less than a 10 percent survival rate.
Material as cold and depressing as this was in direct contrast to Jenny's positive outlook on life — and her disease.
As much as Jane wanted to learn about the disease that threatened her daughter's life, she eventually stopped. The disheartening reports and statistics only added more unrest to her turbulent emotional state.
"You cannot accept a death sentence for your child," Jane said. "You just try to find the best cure."
For Jenny, that process began with her attitude. As much as she wanted to wipe out the disease, she wanted to wipe out negativity and sympathy.
Jenny didn't ask why she was afflicted with something so rare and so terrible. She just wanted to beat it.
But Jane and Buck couldn't help but question.
Doctors told them glioblastoma multiforme is usually accompanied by crippling neurological symptoms such as dizziness and seizures. Why, they asked, hadn't they seen the warning signs? Because Jenny experienced nausea and headache, the cancer was difficult to diagnose.
On Nov. 26, the day after Thanksgiving, Jenny underwent surgery to remove as much of the cancer without causing brain damage. Although Jenny believed she was on the road to recovery, doctors told her she was dying.
"She said, 'I'm going to be the one to find the cure and I don't accept that,' " Jane said. "She wouldn't let anyone say she was dying.
Jenny had big plans for her life. She was a beautiful, intelligent and generous young woman who wouldn't relinquish her dreams of professional success, marriage and a family.
Her hope not only helped herself, it also held together Buck, Jane and younger brother Errek.
"During her illness, she helped me more than anybody," Buck said. "How she handled it was a huge factor for us."
For Hamdan, Jenny's attitude was neither positive nor negative. It was just how Jenny approached life, whether it was in good times or bad.
"It was really, really hard," Hamdan said. "What helped me is how beautiful she was throughout the ordeal."
Jenny's ordeal lasted just six weeks. She had only three radiation treatments before her death.
She had a joyful Christmas with Jane's side of the family in Illinois. But she began to feel queasy again, and the Suhrs returned home.
On Dec. 28, Jenny had a seizure while taking a nap. She was taken to the hospital, where her brain began to swell. The swelling caused her to slip into a coma.
The next day, Jenny Suhr died.
"It was a hard time for me, I'm not going to lie," Hamdan said. "I was so touched by her, and she taught me a lot of things. I'm still getting through it."
For the Suhrs, their extended family and the Bloomington community, Jenny's death was like removing the sun from the sky. A major source of warmth, light and optimism was gone.
But by supporting each other and believing in God and heaven, there was some element of comfort.
"When she died, my husband and I felt her spirit pass," Jane said. "She was the light in our life for 20 years. If that was all the more we could have her, we are grateful for that."
Jenny Suhr's legacy is alive and thriving in Bloomington and beyond.
People remember with fondness her ability to brighten everyone's day.
"It was one of those things where she walked into a room and everyone felt better because she was there," Jane said.
Her parents and friends are doing all they can to perpetuate her generous approach to life. After her death, a scholarship was established for an Indiana football player. This year, Hamdan is the recipient.
On Oct. 14, "Team Jenny" walked in the Hoosiers Outrun Cancer event. In the 5- kilometer run/walk, the group of 250 family and friends wore buttons with the words "Remembering Jenny."
On Nov. 3, the day after what would have been Jenny's 21st birthday, Indiana's Greek community will hold a dance marathon. The proceeds will benefit Riley's Children's Hospital in Indianapolis.
Although the events are a fitting tribute, they can't stop people from missing Jenny.
Her sorority sisters, who planted a tree in her honor, miss her enthusiasm and accepting attitude. She would have been president of Kappa Kappa Gamma this year.
"It was really weird," sorority president Jaime Cutler said. "There was a void. When we came back from Christmas break, it was rush week. That gave us much more incentive to have a positive attitude and do the best we could."
The Indiana football team misses their biggest fan this year.
"She led every cheer in the stands," said Buck, who will miss Jenny's frequent visits to his office. "She was very vocal and intense. She was a very serious fan."
The Tri-North junior high girls' basketball team misses their coach. In high school at Bloomington North, Jenny had been a standout player with a passion to teach children.
Jim Rose coached Jenny during her senior basketball season. He said she was cool under pressure, had a tough work ethic and a natural ability for leadership.
"I always said I wanted to be her agent," Rose said with a laugh. "She was wonderful in all regards. Whenever I have to share about things that are inspiring, I share the story of Jenny Suhr."
"She didn't take anything for granted," Hamdan said. "I know it sounds cliched, but she lived every day to the fullest. She had such a love and passion for people. She just made you feel like the most important person in the world."
And those who knew Jenny Suhr best will never forget that feeling — or her.
