ot since Roe vs. Wade, when the U.S. Supreme Court decided questions about the very beginning of human life, has our society come up against such a fundamental question: Who controls the time and method of our death?
      The issue before us is this: If faced with a death that we think is unacceptable, should we be allowed to have our doctor help us commit suicide? The issue has deeply split the medical world, forcing it to look at the role of science, at ethics and at the nature of death. It has placed before legislatures questions once reserved for the church. It has left each of us wondering what we would want for ourselves, what we would want for those we love.
      In Michigan, Dr. Jack Kevorkian defied a state law forbidding doctors to help their patients kill themselves. Three times, juries acquitted him. Oregon passed a law making physician-assisted suicide legal. Many other states, including Rhode Island, passed laws making it illegal.
      Now our country's highest court has accepted the issue and heard arguments. We await its decision.
      Into the midst of this one of our neighbors, Nöel Earley, of Lincoln, thrust himself. His body had been attacked by a disease for which there is no cure, Lou Gehrig's disease, a wasting disease that would shut down each of his muscles until, rendered immobile and silent, he would inevitably suffocate. He knew this because, in his great curiosity, he read about and in other ways studied his affliction.
      He decided he wanted a swifter death, and he wanted a doctor to help him die in a way that he chose. He became a public person. He lobbied the legislature, testified before physicians and invited the press and television into his life.
      One of the three journalists he allowed to record the course of his campaign and the stages of his disease, in their most intimate detail, was a Journal-Bulletin photographer, John Freidah. Another was The Journal-Bulletin's medical writer, Felice Freyer.
      Here at the newspaper we weighed the story. We thought the issue one of the most important of our time; it commanded our attention. We thought Nöel Earley's invitation to share his life presented an extraordinary window on the issue -- one that we should accept. But we decided not to be with Earley at his suicide, should it occur, fearing that our presence might influence his actions.
      In the end we were surprised. You are about to read not a simple story about death, but a complex story about the strength of life.

-- Joel P. Rawson, Executive Editor