The voyeurism has not reached the level of paparazzi hiding in trees and snapping photographs, but Sue Paterno is by no means living in a sheltered world.

That's impossible, being married to Penn State's beloved football coach and living at an address that is accessible to anyone, fan or not.

Strangers have called, walked and driven by the modest State College bi-level house countless times in Joe's 37 years as head coach. And it was usually Sue and the Paternos' five children who have had to bear the brunt of the nastier intrusions.

When the children were younger, one of her sons picked up the telephone and was greeted by an irate caller who went on an obscenity-laced tirade.

"I said, 'No one answers the phone again,' " Sue said. "And I thought, didn't that idiot know he had a child on the phone?"

There also have been those whose behavior falls into the category of ignorance rather than ire.

In early September, Sue was planting mums in the front yard. A car pulled up, the windows rolled down, and the passenger started snapping pictures.

"That's gone on forever," she said. "I think people think you're not a person or you're deaf."

Or in this case, it might have been totally different.

"I'm bending over and the man says, 'It's so small,' " Sue said. "And I thought, the mum plant? No, it's big. My derriere? Thank you. Or the house? Joe says he thinks they meant the house.

"And I said, 'Do they think I can't hear?' And he says, 'No, they think you're the gardener.'

"When I'm washing windows, they think I'm the maid. When I'm scrubbing the front porch, they think I'm the maid. Whatever."

Those quips are quintessential Sue Paterno - candid, hard working and someone who is capable of playing different roles as deftly as Tom Hanks.

She has raised five children and run the household, has selflessly given countless hours of her time to Penn State University and charitable organizations, and has been Joe's shoulder to lean on.

"She's always put others' needs ahead of her own," said David, 35, the middle Paterno child. "She's sacrificed more than I'll ever be aware for her family and friends. She cares and is always aware of what's going on in other people's lives."

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If you believe the Hallmark hype, Valentine's Day is the time when every woman should be treated like a queen. But when you are married to the king of college football - and your birthday just happens to fall on Valentine's Day - waxy chocolates and overpriced roses are not always a guarantee.

"Everyone combines Valentine's Day and my birthday," said Sue, who turns 62 today. "And at one point, the signing date for recruits was Feb. 15th or 16th and he was never home. He'd say, 'Guess what I got you for your birthday? A recruit.' "

Little has changed in Sue Paterno's lifestyle since her husband began coaching. Sure, the pay is better now, but they are not the types to flaunt the wealth. Not that she was ever in it for the money or prestige.

And things were hardly prestigious at the beginning.

Imagine trekking up the Beaver Stadium steps, nine months pregnant and towing three children barely out of diapers.

Sue did it.

Imagine being in labor and driving yourself to the hospital because your husband was on the recruiting trail.

Sue did it. (And, for the record: Joe cut his trip short and arrived in time for the birth.)

And imagine making sure there was dinner on the table and the kids were ready for bed no matter how early or late your husband got home.

Sue did it.

"I think she has a harder job than my dad does," David said.

Even when she was growing up in Latrobe, the determination that has become one of her most revered and recognizable traits was evident.

"Anything that was presented to her, she took it," said her mother, Alma Pohland.

That included everything from baby-sitting to cooking to yard work.

Alma and August Pohland would offer their children odd jobs beyond their normal chores. One such task was removing stones so that they could widen their driveway. They were offering a penny a stone. Always resourceful, "Susie" looked upon the driveway and saw a gold mine.

"She realized it would go much quicker with a shovel," Alma said, "and she got the most money."

Sue was the most requested baby-sitter in the neighborhood because she actually paid attention to and played with her charges. Her maternal instincts were clearly advanced.

"It just got worse as she got older," Alma said with a chuckle.

Of course, she means that in the best possible way. Sue always was looking to nurture. She tutored throughout high school on a volunteer basis and also when she came to Penn State University.

And it was tutoring that eventually led her to become Mrs. Joseph Vincent Paterno.

Appropriately, Sue and Joe met in the library. She was dating one of his players and he had requested that she help him. That was 1958.

Joe and Sue were married on May 12, 1962.

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It's a beautiful sunny autumn afternoon, but Sue barely has time to enjoy the day.

She's already planning the dinner she will play host to next week for about 40 people after the Penn State-Michigan football game. And she's always busy with the various charities and university events.

As Sue sits in her kitchen, Diet Pepsi in hand, the man she has devoted most of her time to wanders in from the secluded recesses of his office.

As he rummages for a snack, the couple discuss their plans for the day. When they realize they won't see each other until the next day at the game at Iowa, Sue excuses herself to give Joe a quick kiss goodbye.

For nearly 40 years, the Paternos have done what seems statistically impossible in today's world - they've made marriage work through the toughest of circumstances.

"I don't think you can say Joe Paterno without saying Sue Paterno," said Kay Kustanbauter, executive director of the Nittany Lion Club and one of Sue's closest friends. "She's the wind beneath his wings. And sometimes I think he's the wind beneath hers. I think they both soar."

And both have excelled in their respective fields: Joe in coaching and Sue in human services.

Of course, the Paternos' life has not been all national championships and awards dinners.

Sue is candid about marriage and could probably write a more practical book on relationships than any of the so-called experts. Like a recipe for one of her famous meals, Sue's view on marriage is that it's a step-by-step process. Forget one of the elements and you have a disaster.

"I think you have to love the person," she said. "I mean love them deeply. And care about each other and their feelings. And respect what their problems are and respect what the demands are."

Then forget all notions of having that ideal 50/50 relationship. In fact, Sue says, it's rarely equal. But if you genuinely care, you give of yourself without thinking.

And by all accounts, Sue should have nothing left of herself to give at this stage.

There are the visible displays of love and support, such as her overwhelming response to Joe's breaking Bear Bryant's Div. I-A wins record on Oct. 27 in a 29-27 nailbiter against Ohio State at Beaver Stadium. As media, fans and players swarmed the coach after his 324th win, she clung to her husband, crying tears of joy and relief and shaking with emotion.

"When I retire, the university will find a good coach," Joe said. "But if they can find a coach's wife as good as Sue, it would be a miracle."

Then there are the behind-the-scenes acts.

Like the time she was riding around Northwestern University with Kustanbauter in a "confiscated" golf cart. In order to get herself and her suitcase to the team room in time to catch the plane home with Joe, Kustanbauter said, Sue commandeered a golf cart and drove boldly through campus past bewildered police.

And there is the annual recruiting season where Sue openly admitted that her life is not her own. She cooks meals for the recruits and their families, takes the recruits' mothers shopping, and rarely gets to spend more than an hour a day with her husband.

"We never would have had the kind of success around here if it weren't for her," Joe said.

The Paterno marriage, however, is not one-sided. Joe was at his wife's side when her own steely resolve could just not handle the problem on its own.

During a much-anticipated and rare vacation in Spain in 1999, Sue tripped over a barricade and broke her hip. After the ordeal of having surgery and recovering in a foreign hospital, the most exasperating part of recovery was yet to come.

Joe cared for his wife daily, helping her don supportive stockings and emptying the dishwasher. The recovery process proved more frustrating for Joe than a botched call by a referee.

For the first time in their marriage, Joe was forced to take an active role in the kitchen because Sue was confined to a wheelchair.

One by one, Sue recalled, he would pull an item out of the dishwasher and ask where it belonged. When she suggested he take the basket out and just sort the silverware, Joe insisted on doing it his way.

Twenty-five minutes later, the dishwasher was empty and so was Sue's patience.

"I decided I couldn't stand the aggravation of 25 minutes of watching him try to decide where everything went," she said. "So I decided to do it."

Sue is still feeling the effects of her fall, plus the back surgeries she has had. Each day around 4:20 a.m., she heads over to the football building to rehab on the underwater treadmill.

For most, this would be an ungodly hour to do anything but sleep. For Sue, early mornings are a time to reflect and pray.

She says she tries not to let the pain rule her life. But believe it or not, some days, Sue feels human too.

"She's just tough as nails," said Jay Paterno, the fourth child and Penn State quarterbacks coach. "Literally, I have not seen as many football players in her class in terms of mental toughness."

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It would be a mistake to think that Sue Paterno is well known only because of her husband.

In fact, Kustanbauter says, Sue has very much found her own niche. When the two are shopping and Sue uses her credit card, she gets the natural question: Are you related to Joe Paterno?

Her standard answer: "By marriage."

"She's made her own way," Kustanbauter said.

In addition to her diligent work with United Way, Day of Caring, the library and the Special Olympics, Sue throws a dinner party that would put most New York socialites to shame.

Why? Because "caterer" is almost a dirty word in her household.

And after every home game for about a quarter century, Sue cooks for an average of 45 people. She moves around her kitchen quickly, but without an inkling of panic.

"She's got limitless energy and tremendous versatility," Joe said, "and she has an ability to adapt and interest in so many things."

She is prepared for it all. In the mauve and green living room with white couches, the long tables are set with white lace cloths. White plates with silver trim are perfectly placed as red wine airs in the center.

This is the calm among the chaos. On his way down to the basement to visit his guests, Joe admonishes the hyper-active grandchildren.

"Don't get silly!" he says with a smile.

In the large basement, guests sip drinks and talk among the shelves of books and framed photos from various bowl games. They light up as Joe enters, carrying a plate of bruschetta. Despite the 20-0 loss to Michigan earlier that day, he is in jovial spirits.

In the kitchen, Sue, Alma and daughters Diana and Mary Kay set out the spinach manicotti and the rest of the dinner on the island.

"It's just such a warm atmosphere," Penn State athletic director Tim Curley said. "She makes you feel like family."

Perhaps because family, whether her own or the extended football family, has been the focus of her life.

In contrast to her husband, whose statue now stands outside Beaver Stadium, Sue has no grand visions of being immortalized in bronze. In fact, her idea of her own legacy borders on morose.

"Fifty years from now, no one will know," Sue said. "The library (which bears the Paterno name) will be there. I don't care if they remember, just so they use it."

The university community will remember her hard work and generosity.

Her friends will remember her hospitality and support.

And her family will remember her for every reason they love her.

"It's just how tough she is," Jay said. "She's always looking for a challenge. She just loves to help other people.

"She's just a special woman."