Unfortunately, on May 18, 2001 McCorkle jumped to her death from her apartment window. She was 55. Her inability to get a new record produced with Concord, her record company, was apparently the proximate cause of her suicide. However, she had long suffered from depression.
I'm always flabbergasted when people respond, "O.K. maybe cryonics/life extension will work. Why would you want to live a long time though? I'm content living a natural life."
Most would agree that McCorkle's death is a terrible tragedy. Would it have been less of a tragedy, if she had jumped on May 22? May 23? When would it have ceased to be a tragedy?
Yet McCorkle's death is but one, among millions that happen every day. If I allow myself to think about it, I feel a terrible sense of anxiety, knowing that everyone I love will eventually face the same fate. Yet most people don't appear to feel this way. I guess this is the role that religion plays -- a way to amelioriate anxiety that would otherwise paralyze.