This “backstory” is a part of a collection of articles that describes some of the obstacles that Seven Days reporters faced while pursuing Vermont news, events and people in 2024.
Seven Days gets interesting and provocative news tips regularly, but one that came in on July 7 stopped me in my tracks.
“My 84-year-old sister from Florida is in Burlington now participating in the death with dignity program due to her terminal lung disease. She will take the medication to end her life on July 11,” it read. “My sister is very articulate and knowledgeable about this program and now is a patient and beneficiary of it. I thought this might be a … story that many of your readers would find of interest.”
The topic was outside my regular beat. But within hours of receiving the tip, I’d volunteered to look into it. I had a feeling that reporting the story would be a life-expanding experience.
Two days later, I pulled into the crowded driveway of a house in Burlington where Rita Mannebach, the woman at the center of the story, was staying with her family in preparation to die. I was greeted by her death doula, Meg Tipper, whom I interviewed on a covered sunporch. Then it was time to meet Mannebach. I tentatively entered the house, where I found a petite woman tucked into one corner of a leather couch. Despite an oxygen tube in her nose, she spoke clearly about what being able to come to Vermont to end her life meant to her and what she was thinking about as she approached death. Her brother, John Cummins, sat quietly in the corner, recording the interview.
At first, I was worried I would say the wrong thing or ask an inappropriate question. But Mannebach’s matter-of-fact attitude about dying allayed my nervousness. It was refreshing to talk about death in such an open, honest way. When we were finished, Cummins walked me out and reassured me that I’d done a good job.
It felt strange to craft an article about someone who wouldn’t be alive to read it. As I wrote, I got news from Mannebach’s family that her passing, and the celebration of life that preceded it, had gone smoothly. Tipper emailed me a photograph of Mannebach’s wrinkled hand resting in the palm of a relative.
“The family would like you to have this photo taken today at the time of Rita’s death,” she wrote.
Mannebach and her family had been so open and gracious; I wanted to write a story that would honor her memory.
A text from Mannebach’s daughter-in-law the day the story was published made me feel like I’d accomplished that goal.
“It was a perfect characterization of her and her decision. I could hear all of her quotations in her voice,” it read. “Rita would have been so proud to see how it turned out.”
The original print version of this article was headlined “Most Meaningful Story”
This article appears in Dec 25, 2024 – Jan 7, 2025.
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