KILL ME NOW: The Troubled Life and Complicated Death of Jana Van Voorhis
From BuzzFeed and The Big Roundtable:
On the morning of Thursday, April 12, 2007, Wye Hale-Rowe watched out the window of the plane as U.S. Airways Flight 180 descended into Phoenix. She surveyed the landscape that unfolded on the ground below — blue swimming pools, elevated freeway interchanges, and a flat grid of streets studded with slender desert palm trees. When Hale-Rowe left her apartment in Aurora, Colo., that morning and drove 20 miles by taxi to the Denver airport, the air had been frigid. In Phoenix, however, the temperature was expected to climb to 75 degrees. But Hale-Rowe wasn’t a snowbird, the local term for retirees who flock to Arizona in the winter and stay through spring to enjoy the weather. Her trip to the Valley of the Sun would be short. She was there to help Jana Van Voorhis commit suicide.
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From BuzzFeed:
In high school one of my favorite things to do was go to a teen nightclub called Tommy’s. James was my only friend who could drive, and because we lived in the same south Phoenix neighborhood, he would pick me up first in his dad’s white Bonneville, which had blood-red upholstery. By the time we we got to Tommy’s, five of us were jammed into the backseat with another four up front, the car so weighed down that we had to lean forward all at once to keep its tail end from scraping the curb in the parking lot.
Jaime Joyce 
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