“I can’t even describe how amazing she was,” says Jessica Haynes about her sister, Sarah Best.
Remembering Sarah Best
- Sarah Best was among the 67 people who lost their lives in the D.C. plane crash on January 29.
- Her sister, Jessica Haynes, shares memories of Sarah—her role as a sister, an aunt, a wife, a teacher, and a lawyer.
- “She was so special,” Haynes says. “She was everything to us.”
Since the tragic plane crash in Washington, D.C., Jessica Haynes has been overwhelmed by grief. Some days, she finds moments of acceptance. But then, a small reminder—like seeing The Wild Robot on a streaming platform, a movie her sister once recommended—brings back the pain.
“I don’t understand why she’s gone,” Haynes tells PEOPLE. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
Sarah Best, 33, was the youngest of three sisters. Jessica is the middle child, and Jennifer, the oldest. Their birthdays were close, with Sarah, Jessica, and their mother celebrating within a day of each other.
Born and raised in Clarksville, Tennessee, Sarah excelled in school. She was her high school’s valedictorian and later graduated summa cum laude from Vanderbilt University. Her husband, Daniel Solomon, now teaches as a lecturer at the same university.
Sarah started her career as a high school math teacher in Tennessee before moving to Washington, D.C., to work as an attorney. She earned her law degree from the University of Pennsylvania.
“She was truly special,” Haynes says. “She meant everything to my family. We loved her so much.”
The Tragic Plane Crash
Sarah was returning from a work trip in Wichita, Kansas, when tragedy struck. The passenger jet she was on collided mid-air with an Army helicopter near Ronald Reagan National Airport as the plane prepared to land on January 29.
All 67 people on board, including three soldiers from the helicopter, lost their lives. This accident is the deadliest aviation disaster in the U.S. in more than 20 years.
Investigators are still trying to determine the cause of the crash. Some reports suggest the helicopter crew may have made a critical mistake.
Sarah’s family now faces the heartbreaking reality of life without her. They struggle to sum up her achievements, kindness, and dreams in just a few words. Her husband, Daniel, is still too devastated to speak publicly.
“Yesterday, our family was talking about why this had to happen to her,” Haynes, 35, says. “It feels like it should have been one of us instead. She was the one who made a difference in everyone’s lives.”
A Life Filled with Purpose
Sarah was not just intelligent—she was deeply compassionate. “She was unbelievably selfless,” her sister says. “For ten years after her wedding, she didn’t take a honeymoon because she was always working, always trying to help others.”
As a lawyer at Wilkinson Stekloff in D.C., Sarah focused on giving a voice to the voiceless, particularly in education and immigration law.
Recently, she had settled into her apartment in Washington, D.C., and was excited about making it her own. “She kept sending us pictures, asking, ‘Do you like this couch?’ She was so happy to finally have a space that felt like home,” Haynes recalls.
In high school, one of Sarah’s teachers once described her as a “shark in the pond.” But she was also known for her empathy and support.
Their older sister, Jennifer, a doctor specializing in otolaryngology, shared a touching tribute:
“When I was stressed about exams in high school, Sarah would write encouraging notes and tape them to my bedroom door so I’d see them in the morning,” Jennifer says. “When people thought Jessica was the ‘troublemaker’ of the family, Sarah defended her and gave her unconditional love.”
Even on the day she died, the three sisters were texting each other in their group chat, something they did daily. Despite being the youngest, Sarah often gave the wisest advice.
“She was my protector,” Haynes says.
Sarah played a role in naming Haynes’ daughter, Aria.
“I had a hard time choosing a name,” Haynes explains. “Then, at 38 weeks pregnant, I broke my ankle. Since I needed a C-section, Sarah and I made a deal—if the baby was born on February 21, her wedding anniversary, we’d name her Aria.”
Coincidentally, the doctor scheduled the procedure for that exact date.
Sarah had chosen the name Aria because of her love for crossword puzzles. It was the first word she learned from The New York Times crossword.
“The name also means ‘air’ and refers to a solo part in an opera, symbolizing independence while being part of something bigger,” Haynes says.
Jennifer also welcomed a baby recently, a son named Juni.
“The last time I saw Sarah in person was when she threw my baby shower in August,” Jennifer shares. “She hosted the event beautifully, and guests who met her for the first time told me how brilliant and kind she was. She even had everyone draw and write messages for Juni’s first ABC book. She planned to visit us in the spring to meet him.”
Holding On to Memories
Among Sarah’s many thoughtful gifts, one stands out—a homemade book she created for Jessica, titled Jessica Best’s Personalized Book of Wise Words, Advice, and Inspiring Quotes to Get Her Through Anything.
Inside, Sarah had included different sections like “Ego Boosters,” “What Love Should Be Like,” and even a list of “The Most Beautiful Sentences in Literature.” There were also humorous notes, such as “A Letter for When You’re Being a Dumbass.”
“She wrote little things to help me through life,” Haynes says.
After Sarah’s death, Haynes turned to the book, hoping to find words of comfort. “I thought maybe there would be something in there to help me cope,” she says. “I don’t know.”
Reading through it, Haynes hears her sister’s voice. “She had a way of speaking that no one else did.”
“I can’t believe I was lucky enough to be her sister,” she says. “I just want her back so badly.”
One Last Hug
A friend of Sarah’s wrote on social media:
“Those who never met her are at a bigger loss than I am.”
Haynes agrees. “I lost her, but at least I got to know her,” she says.
Through the heartbreak, the family recently received one piece of relief—Sarah’s body has been identified.
That means they can bring her home.
“I just want to hug her one last time,” Haynes says.
“You feel like a part of you dies when someone you love is gone. All you want is one last hug. And now, I can finally do that.”
