Candlelight vigil participants gather outside Governor Kathy Hochul’s Manhattan office (Image Credit: Joe Vericker)
The first glow appeared just after dusk—an amber flicker from a battery-operated candle, cradled in mittened hands. Within minutes, the sidewalk lining the Executive Mansion in Albany shimmered with dozens of identical lights. Volunteers passed out hot chocolate, steam drifting into the freezing night as people warmed their fingers around paper cups. It was a night when most would hurry indoors, yet these New Yorkers stayed.
Despite below-freezing temperatures, short notice, and the rush of the holiday season, nearly 350 people gathered across Albany, Tonawanda, Syracuse, and Manhattan for candlelight vigils urging Governor Kathy Hochul to veto assisted suicide legislation, A.136 (Paulin)/S.138 (Hoylman-Sigal).
The bill, passed by a narrow majority and facing strong bipartisan opposition, now awaits the Governor’s decision. For many gathered this week, that deadline feels deeply personal.
The Capital District: Solidarity Against Assisted Suicide
At the Capital Region vigil on December 3, 75 participants gathered under the shadow of the Governor’s Mansion. Some carried signs. Others held candles. All carried conviction.
Representing New York Families Foundation, Jason J. McGuire, Executive Director of New York Families Action, addressed the crowd with a message grounded in both compassion and clarity: “New Yorkers are recognizing that assisted suicide isn’t compassion—it’s abandonment. Our vigil tonight shows that people from every background want the state to choose care, not killing. A sleeping giant is awakening on this issue.”
Beside him stood Stephen P. Hayford, Director of Public Policy, reinforcing the organization’s long-standing commitment to protecting vulnerable communities.
Jessica Rodgers, Coalitions Director at the Patients Rights Action Fund and an Albany resident, added: “For good reason, New Yorkers from across the state are coming together to ask Gov. Kathy Hochul to veto the assisted suicide bill. Rather than encouraging suicide, New York must prioritize quality of care and services for those facing terminal illnesses.”
There were no chants, no shouting—just resolve. The cold made every breath visible, amplifying the seriousness of the moment.
Western New York: Courage in the Wind
In Tonawanda, on the same evening but hundreds of miles away, wind swept across the church lot as 110 attendees tightened their scarves and accepted battery-operated candles and hot cups of cocoa. The glow of candles reflected off the frozen pavement.
Dr. Stan Bukowski speaks softly, but his words carry weight. The seasoned doctor is a retired internal medicine specialist with 40 years of experience treating patients with terminal illnesses. He was not only a featured speaker at the Western New York vigil but also its main organizer.
“We can support people. We can keep them comfortable. Assisted suicide is against the principles that have been the foundation of medical care in Western society for over 2,000 years. There’s a good reason for that,” Bukowski said.
He voiced concerns about the law’s possible expansion, citing examples from other countries.
“Assisted suicide cannot be contained. We’ve seen that in countries like Belgium, the Netherlands, and Canada. There, horror stories emerge because once you establish the principle in the first law, it inevitably expands,” Bukowski concluded.
Conversations quietly unfolded among attendees—stories of aging parents, hospice experiences, misdiagnoses, and fears that vulnerable loved ones could one day feel pressured to choose death.
Dr. Bukowski wasn’t the only healthcare professional sharing concerns. Nancy H. Nielsen, MD, PhD, MACP, a former president of the American Medical Association, emphasized the purpose of medicine:
“Since the earliest days of medical care, dating back centuries, physicians have opposed anything that could bring a patient’s premature death. The medical codes of ethics that have developed over time consistently warn that hastening death conflicts with the role of a physician. Although I recognize that thoughtful, good people exist on both sides of this debate, we must remember the oath that most medical students take upon graduation: ‘Most especially must I tread lightly in matters of life and death.’ Medical Aid in Dying is not treading lightly — it is an irreversible bludgeon. Hippocrates went even further, as his oath states: ‘I must not play God.’ Neither should we.”
The cold was biting, but so was the reality of what was at stake.
Manhattan: A Beacon Outside the Governor’s Office
The following evening, December 4, outside Governor Hochul’s Midtown office, more than 100 New Yorkers gathered in a small circle of light amid the sounds of Manhattan traffic. Attendees held cups of hot chocolate, and more candles flickered in the dark, chilly night.
Roman Catholic Bishop of the Brooklyn Diocese, Robert J. Brennan, offered a sobering reflection, “What starts as a choice very quickly becomes an encouragement [toward doctor-prescribed death].”
Then Jose Hernandez, speaking from his wheelchair, shared the testimony that moved others to tears, “If assisted suicide was available back then, my mother might have felt pressured to end her life. I would have missed out on 13 years of loving each other and growing into adulthood.”
The city continued bustling around them, but the vigil carved out its own quiet space with demonstrators carrying signs that read “Veto Assisted Suicide”—a public reminder directly outside the Governor’s office.
Central New York: Suicide is Never a Solution
In Syracuse, snow flurries dusted coats and hats as 50 advocates lifted battery candles that glowed despite the swirling wind. A table of hot chocolate greeted the crowd, offering warmth that the temperature refused to provide.
McGuire, having traveled from the Albany event the night before, spoke with determination: “We must not open the Pandora’s Box of state-sanctioned suicide. Once that box is opened, it cannot be closed.”
For many present, this was not a theoretical debate—it was about family members, patients they’ve served, or loved ones who fought hard for life.
That night, a private conversation occurred when a young man rolled up his jacket sleeve to show scars on his wrists from a previous suicide attempt. He explained he was there to convey that we must never let anyone believe that suicide is ever a solution.
A Night of Resolve, and a Sign of Hope
As each vigil concluded, people lingered. Some refilled their cups with the last of the hot chocolate. Some hugged new friends they’d met only an hour earlier. Some steadied the arm of an elderly attendee navigating an icy patch of sidewalk.
The battery-operated candles clicked off one by one, but something more enduring remained—an unmistakable sense that New Yorkers care deeply about one another, especially in moments of vulnerability.
That is why, even on winter nights when the wind cuts through scarves and the cold stiffens fingers, hundreds chose to stand outside together.
“This is not a Catholic effort,” said Dennis Poust, executive director for the New York State Catholic Conference, “this is Catholic, Christian, evangelical, secular. It doesn’t matter. We all realize that this is a bill that will lead to the vulnerable being targeted for death, and we can’t have it.”
Across all four cities, the message was consistent, clear, and compassionate. It came from physicians, disability rights advocates, the faithful, and those not practicing any particular faith. Different backgrounds. Different beliefs. One unified plea: Governor Hochul, please veto this bill.
They came because hope—like a candle—shines brightest in the dark.