Wanda Faye Koch

October 15, 1930 – August 10, 2026

Wanda F. Koch was her official name and the name she signed. But throughout her 95 years, she was known by many names and wore many hats: Wanda Faye, Wanda, Aunt Wanda Faye, Auntie Wanda, Mrs. Koch, Wamda, Wanda Roo, and Mom. Each name belonged to a different chapter of a remarkable life.

Born Wanda Faye Shull in Wolfe County, Kentucky, she was the daughter of Stella Mae Amburgy and Linville Thrasher Shull and one of seven children. She was raised on a farm in the hills of eastern Kentucky, where going to town was an occasion. She was proud of where she came from, but when she left for Asbury College in Wilmore, Kentucky, she was determined to become simply “Wanda”—leaving her double name and Kentucky accent behind.

Wanda graduated near the top of her class from Asbury with a degree in secondary education, majoring in home economics with minors in English and science. The Johnson Wax Company paid for her education.

When Wanda left Kentucky for her first teaching interview in Dearborn, Michigan, she had never been outside the state. She rode a bus to Detroit and had to be shown how to use a payphone—something that didn’t exist where she grew up. She got the job. She later earned her master’s degree in education through Michigan State and Eastern Michigan universities.

Arriving in Michigan knowing no one, Wanda answered a newspaper advertisement for a room to rent. The strangers who rented her that room quickly became her second family, remaining part of her life for decades.

For 35 years, “Mrs. Koch” taught junior high, with some high school along the way, in the Dearborn school system. Home economics was her specialty, although she taught science when needed. When home economics classes became co-ed in the 1970s, she especially enjoyed teaching the boys cooking and sewing. She always said they were her favorites.

Wanda was a tough grader, but she was fair, held her students to high standards, and cared deeply about them. She loved junior highers and loved telling stories about the many ways she kept them in line. Her teaching stories remained some of her favorite stories to tell throughout her life.

In 1955, Wanda’s Michigan family took her to a wedding and introduced her to Frank Koch. She married him the following year. Frank was the yin to her yang—a hopeless dreamer, endlessly creative, and one of the funniest people she ever knew. He called her Wanda, Wamda, Honey Bunny, and sometimes Fant, perhaps for Faye. She was the love of his life, and he was hers, until his death in 2008.

Frank and Wanda lived in Allen Park, Michigan, for 35 years. Both were teachers and entrepreneurs, somehow finding the time to run a succession of businesses after school and on weekends. Their adventures included a ski hill called Herringbone Ridge, a pizza and pasty parlor, and businesses that lasted much longer, including the Village Arts and Crafts Shoppe and The Paint Box.

Their greatest adventure, however, was raising their daughter, Lori. Summers away from school gave the three of them the opportunity to take road trips throughout the United States, Canada, and Mexico. When Lori went to college, Frank and Wanda retired from teaching, sold The Paint Box, and moved to Florida, where they enjoyed some of the happiest years of their lives. Their home was almost continuously filled with family and friends.

Wanda was a woman with nerves of steel. In the mid-1990s, she was diagnosed with a giant brain aneurysm and told that only three surgeons in the country could help her. She spent a month waiting for surgery and was warned not to sneeze or get excited because the aneurysm could rupture. Wanda prepared for the worst, prayed for the best, and refused to spend her time worrying. She underwent a complex brain procedure, which was a complete success, and then simply got on with living.

When Frank’s health declined, they moved to Charlotte, North Carolina, to be near Lori and her husband, Bobby Pappert. Wanda believed wholeheartedly that when people need help, they should move closer to the people who can give it. Frank died in 2008.

In Charlotte, Mom to Lori, and Bobby. Bobby also coined the name Wanda Roo—his special name for her. She embraced both roles completely, along with her role as dog grandma. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her kids and granddogs, and they returned that love in full.

Wanda Roo and Bobby developed a particularly special bond. What began as Wanda giving Bobby a ride to work when his car was in the shop became an everyday routine for years. She drove him to work, picked him up, ran errands with him, and shared hundreds of early dinners with him. Lori joined whenever her work schedule allowed. Those dinners became some of the most treasured memories of their lives.

And if Lori or Bobby called and asked Wanda to go somewhere, they rarely got the question completely out before hearing her answer: “Yes!”

Could she hem a pair of pants? Yes.

Did she want to spend the day running errands? Yes.

Did she want to go to the lake—even though she couldn’t swim? Yes!

Wanda believed you should say yes, because if you always said no, people would eventually stop asking. There was almost nothing she would rather do than spend time with her family.

On the Shull side, Wanda outlived her parents and all of her brothers and sisters. She leaves behind 10 nieces and nephews and many great- and great-great-nieces and nephews. On the Koch side, she is survived by her sister-in-law June Koch McClure, nieces Penny and Angie, who called her Auntie Wanda, and many more generations of family.

Family meant everything to Wanda. If you were family or part of her inner circle, she would move heaven and earth for you. She never spoke an unkind word about a person. She might comment on someone’s behavior, but never condemn the person. Her work ethic was fierce, she was almost always busy, and yet she always made time for the people who mattered.

To her friends and neighbors, she was simply Wanda. She kept a small circle of very close friends and often said, “It’s better to have a few really good friends and lots of acquaintances.”

Wanda was a lifelong Methodist and joined a Methodist church wherever she lived. More importantly, she lived the teachings of Christ every day. She was grateful and kind. She loved deeply. She treated everyone the same—from the janitor to the CEO—unless they gave her a reason not to.

She had few hobbies because she was usually too busy working, helping someone, or saying yes to an invitation. But she loved to read and often said that when she retired, she wanted to “read books and go to lunch.” She got her wish.

Her health declined sharply in 2024, and although she became frustrated when she had trouble remembering things, Wanda remained positive and grateful. She welcomed her Hospice chaplain and the prayers offered to her. She regularly told her caregivers that she appreciated them and loved them.

Perhaps the greatest legacy Wanda leaves is a simple one: treat everyone the same, tell the people you love that you love them, and always be grateful. There is always something to be grateful for.

There will be no formal service. Instead, Lori and Bobby will travel to relatives and friends who knew Wanda well, gathering around tables and exchanging stories over bottomless cups of coffee—just as Wanda Faye, Wanda, Wamda, Wanda Roo, and Mom would have loved.

And knowing Wanda, she would probably have said, “Yes!”