I hate the word Victim..In Memorium

[JennyMominRI]

I really do.. It seems like that word *victim* reduces everything else a person ever did..Victim of AIDS, Victim of 9/11, Victim of the Manson family.
As soon as one becomes a Victim it seems like everything else becomes forgotten. How many details do we know of the lives of the people who died on 9/11?.How many people with AIDS are remembered for much more than that?. IS Sharon Tate really ever remembered as anything but a victim of the Manson family?
I really wish that on a day like today we could spend more time on remembering the lives of those who died on 9/11 than on the terrible last day of their lives..Don't get me wrong, that day needs to be remember,but so do those people...They are more than just Victims.

Here's a few random people killed that day

Lee Adler
World Trade Center


The Girls in His Family


At work, Lee Adler could write complex computer programs off the top of his head, never needing to write anything down. He took great pleasure in shaving nanoseconds off the time his elegant programs took to run, said his wife, Alice. Mr. Adler, 48, was a systems programmer at ESpeed, a division of Cantor Fitzgerald. He also coached his daughter's basketball, soccer and softball teams and was a trustee of Temple Beth Ahm in Springfield, N.J., Mrs. Adler said.

At home in Springfield, Mr. Adler liked being surrounded by all girls. The family consisted of one daughter, Lauren, a sheltie, Meghan, and two cats, Lindsey and Brenda. Mr. Adler and the pets had birthdays in March, and they celebrated together. He would take the dog to the pet store, and whatever she sniffed first was hers.

Mrs. Adler recalls his most recent birthday fondly. He had given her a pair of earrings for Valentine's Day, and for his (yes, his) birthday, he gave her the pin to match, a bear climbing on a piece of lapis. "He definitely loved all his girls," she said.


Christy A. Addamo
World Trade Center


A Traveling Homebody


Christy A. Addamo was beautiful. She had big dark eyes and brown hair as shiny as mink, which she liked to have her mother, Rita, fix in an upsweep. And smart: she made the dean's list at Queens College, where she got a degree in accounting that led to a job at Marsh & McLennan on a high floor of the World Trade Center.

Brave, too: she loved to travel, to places where she could swim with stingrays. She also liked to be home, learning Italian cooking at her mother's side. She melted chocolate and poured it into umbrella-shaped molds that became lollipops served at her friends' bridal showers. At 28, she had begun thinking about being a bride herself one day. She had a pack of friends, who accompanied her to Yankees games (she liked Paul O'Neill, and saw him and the rest of the team capture the 2000 World Series) and on long walks around the city (she kept a pair of sneakers at the office).

For birthdays and other milestones, she would compose poems. For her parents' 25th wedding anniversary, she and her sister organized a big party. At Christmas, she took the whole family to Radio City for a show.

"Ah," her mother said the other day, remembering. "She was the best."


Frank J. Bonomo
World Trade Center


Golf and Fatherhood


Even when he came home bone-tired from fighting fires and running a family video business, Frank J. Bonomo mustered the energy to fashion a putting green alongside his ranch-style house in Port Jefferson, N.Y.

For four months, he worked with childlike enthusiasm, laying sod, pouring sand and sinking cups. He finished last July.

"It was the only thing in our house that he did on his own without hiring anyone to help," said his wife, Margarite. Frank Bonomo, 42, a New York City firefighter for 17 years, cherished the time he spent with his wife and their children, Joseph, 5, and Juliana, 2. He spent his entire career at Engine Company 230 in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. His friends at the firehouse remember his great sense of humor.

"He was a devoted family man," said Ted DiPasquale, a neighbor and a colleague of Firefighter Bonomo for 12 years. "I have two daughters, and Frank used to joke that I had to do a special thing to have a son. He never got around to telling me what that was."

William Bratton Jr. and his wife, Mary Bratton, reminisced about their daughter Michelle Renee Bratton, who started working Aug. 6 as an executive assistant at eSpeed, a division of Cantor Fitzgerald.

"She was a big fan of Madonna," Mr. Bratton said. "I remember in August she drove down to Washington, D.C., for a Madonna concert."

His wife continued. "She called us in the middle of the concert, held the phone up and said, `Listen to this!' "

Ms. Bratton dived competitively in college, worked as a lifeguard and was a "sun goddess," her mother said. And "a pretty good shopper, too," her father said.

At the State University of New York College at Oswego, she belonged to the Sigma Delta Tau sorority. "She would mentor new sorority people, get them ready for rush, and keep them strong," Mrs. Bratton said. "She would always be the one behind them giving them that extra push."

She loved working in the city, that life-at-your-fingertips feeling it brings, her mother said: "Every single day, she went from dawn till dusk. When she did take time off, she would sleep for 15 hours. You couldn't wake her up."

Ms. Bratton, who shared an apartment with her sister in Yonkers, planned to get a master's degree so she could become a teacher and a diving coach. She was 23.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on March 24, 2002.




Captain Daniel Brethel
World Trade Center


A Day at Disney World

Daniel Brethel, captain of Ladder 24 on West 31st Street in Manhattan, had had some close calls: His neck and ears had been burned when he was holding his helmet over an injured firefighter who was lying on the street; once he had required a skin graft. Arriving at the World Trade Center after both jets had hit, he shouted a warning to his men: "Guys, be very careful, because firemen are going to die today."

He had been off duty at 9 a.m. His wife, Carol, hearing about the attack at their home in Farmingdale, hoped he was already on the train and knew nothing about it. On Tuesday night, they came to the house and told her they had found his body. Captain Brethel, 43, had grabbed one of his men as a building started to collapse. They dived under a firetruck. Both were crushed.

On Wednesday, Ms. Brethel went to her husband's firehouse to empty Captain Brethel's locker. Theirs is a large, close family. In April, all the brothers and sisters and their children, 19 Brethels, went to Disney World, waiting until it was close to closing time so they could ride Thunder Mountain together.

This week, at least a dozen Brethels, including Captain Brethel's children, who are 12 and 14, accompanied his wife to the firehouse. While Ms. Brethel closed the locker room door behind her, the firefighters told stories about their captain and the children had a chance to see the people stopping by and the flowers they had left. And that was good, said Mr. Brethel's sister, Loretta.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on September 22, 2001.

 

[JennyMominRI]

Janice J. Brown
World Trade Center


No Ordinary Aunt

Janice Brown's weekends were a hullabaloo of children, her own and her sisters'. Monday through Friday, she was an accountant at Marsh & McLennan. But when Saturday rolled around, she was off to the zoo, the skating rink or the movies with her 11-year-old son, Justin Johnson; three nephews, ages 6, 3 and 1; and a 4-year-old niece.

But Ms. Brown, 34, was not a run-of-the- mill aunt. One nephew, 3-year-old Kyle, had lived with Ms. Brown, a single mother, since he was an infant. Kyle's mother, Dawn, 23, was unable to care for her children, so two live in Flatbush with their grandmother, Juanita Lewis, and the third, Kyle, lives nearby with Ms. Brown.

Janice Brown's sister Tameshia, 24, said that Ms. Brown had stepped into the breach, initially agreeing to take Kyle for a year, after Dawn had already given custody of her oldest to her mother. But, according to Tameshia, Dawn was still a a street person so Ms. Brown took the boy permanently. Ms. Brown spelled her mother, who was also taking care of a third grandchild, every weekend. Last summer, along with Tameshia, she took the whole brood to Disney World, paying for the trip and giving her mother a few days of peace and quiet.

Ronald Paul Bucca
World Trade Center


Rescuer and Counselor

Ronald Bucca was nicknamed "the Flying Fireman" in 1986 after he fell spectacularly from a tenement fire escape, spun around a cable strung through the backyard and lived to tell the tale. And that was just one of his moments.

His specialty was rescuing mankind from smoke and flames, but he did not mind scorching certain people with his wit.

His colleagues collected "Ron-isms." An example: "This one is as sharp as a basketball."

He designed hats for other firemen with details that they found hilarious (but unfortunately, that were not printable).

A firefighter for 23 years, the last nine as a fire marshal, he was also a nurse and a reservist in the United States Army's Special Forces.

Mr. Bucca trained as an antiterrorist intelligence expert, and when the planes hit the towers on Sept. 11, he called his wife, Eve, and said he was heading to the scene.

"He knew it was a terrorist attack," Mrs. Bucca said. "He had been expecting something like that for a very long time."

Before that day, his final investigation had involved a young woman who set her former boyfriend's letters on fire and left them to burn in a toilet. He counseled her as a father might.

"No guy is worth getting this upset over; don't be too concerned about this guy," he told her, said Keith O'Mara, his partner. "There are a lot of fish in the sea. And if this should ever happen again, think about buying yourself a paper shredder."



Linda M. Colon
World Trade Center


Ms. Detail

Linda M. Colon was the glue at Marsh & McLennan, the person who made sure that all the logistics, the computers, the systems, the modeling, the décor — everything — were all taken care of before anyone began to complain. She was also the person who handled the relocation of the corporate headquarters from the Avenue of the Americas to the World Trade Center about a year ago.

Mrs. Colon, 46, was a senior vice president for facilities management, and she loved her job, said her sister Ivette Hernandez. Loved it so much, in fact, that she became a mentor to young people interested in the financial world.

But what Mrs. Colon, who grew up in the Bronx but lived in Perrineville, N.J., enjoyed more than anything was spending time with her husband, Robert, and two daughters, Christine, who turned 18 on Sunday, and Tracy, who is 11.

She was especially happy that Christine had worked this summer with her at Marsh.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 31, 2001.


Joanne Cregan
World Trade Center


Everyone's Best Friend

Joanne and Grace Cregan were sisters. The kind who moved here from Ireland and bought identical apartments, just two floors apart in the same Brooklyn Heights building; the kind who sent each other e-mail messages throughout the day and watched television together every night; the kind who were best friends.

But there was something about Joanne Cregan, 32, who worked at eSpeed, that made most people think she was their best friend. When her friends needed advice, she gave it freely. When she went home to Ireland, she took gifts for her family and friends. Her laugh and her sense of humor made bleak situations brighter.

Ms. Cregan, who loved music, also connected with children and was to become the godmother of three babies.

"She was an excellent big sister," Grace Cregan said. "Sometimes it just hits me that I'll never see her again. I won't get to grow old with her."


Manuel DaMota
World Trade Center


2 Languages Masterly Mixed

For Manuel DaMota, woodworking was translating. But it was a translation process that worked with images, not words. Architects would concoct fanciful designs, and Mr. DaMota would translate their elaborate visions from paper into wood. His work could be as elaborate as making jewelry -- with glass marbles, aluminum and fabric that all had to be embedded into the woodwork.

As a project manager for Bronx Builders, Mr. DaMota, 43, had worked with architects like David Rockwell and Jeffrey Beers to do the interiors for fine restaurants including the Russian Tea Room, Nobu Next Door and Tuscan Steak. But he also worked for the children of the North Presbyterian Head Start program, where he built a miniature mahogany building complete with windows.

"He loved working with wood," said his wife, Barbara. "You could see it from the way he talked about it."

He always said yes when asked to do another project. "He was busy, so we only went to the beach once this past summer," said Christopher, Mr. DaMota' s 10-year-old son. Mr. DaMota had two other sons, with a fourth child on the way.

 

[JennyMominRI]

Myra Joy Aronson
American Flight 11


French Food and Friends


Once, when Myra Joy Aronson was visiting her brother and his family in Washington, she found out about the Bastille Day celebrations at the French Embassy and managed ‹ at the very last minute ‹ to get herself invited.

It was characteristic both of her love of all things French, and her spontaneous energy. She had fallen in love with France during a year abroad in college, and in recent years she held annual French- themed dinners with 15 or 20 friends, where they would prepare an elaborate Gallic feast with excellent wines. She also organized trips to Cape Cod with her friends in the summer.

Ms. Aronson, 50, loved music, and did volunteer work for the Handel & Haydn Society in Boston. A manager for Compuware in Cambridge, Mass., she was a passenger on American Airlines Flight 11 on Sept. 11.

Her family and friends have established a scholarship at Miami University, her alma mater, to help students who want to study in France.
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 11, 2001.


Mildred Naiman
American Flight 11


Thumbed Her Nose at Age


At 81, Mildred Naiman kept the pedal to the metal. "She had a little bit of a lead foot," said her daughter-in-law Carol Naiman. "She had been stopped for speeding and was totally insulted the officer would give an old woman a ticket."

Despite the number of birthdays that had passed, she lived her life at full tilt. She called her apartment in an Andover, Mass., community for the elderly her bachelorette pad, and she kept her friends there busy, organizing shopping excursions, dinners out and weekend trips. She headed to California twice a year to visit her sons, usually taking American Airlines Flight 11, as she did on Sept. 11. "You'd sort of have to see her between her little excursions," Carol Naiman said.

All this despite two knee replacements, cataracts and a variety of other health problems. "If something was wrong with her," said her son Russ Naiman, "she'd go to the doctor and say, "Fix me up; I've got a lot of traveling to do.' "
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on January 6, 2002.


Mildred Naiman, 81, of Andover, Mass., felt bad about flying American Airlines Flight 11 to California on Tuesday to see two of her sons and their families. She didn't want to miss her son Richard's 58th birthday that same day.

But Richard told her: "Mom, it's OK. You can call me from California," recalled Hope Naiman, 28, Mildred Naiman's granddaughter.

Despite knee replacement surgeries that forced her to be pushed through Boston's Logan Airport in a wheelchair, the feisty grandmother refused to stop her regular trips to see her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

During a family gathering on Sunday, a relative had asked Naiman if she was nervous about flying. "No, I've gone everywhere already--to Germany, the Bahamas," her granddaughter recalled her saying. "I'm not afraid to fly."

Profile courtesy of THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE.


James E. Hayden
United Flight 175


The Love Stayed Young

Looking back on their nearly 25 years of marriage, Elizabeth Gail Hayden credits James E. Hayden with bringing her much joy, to say nothing of chicken and fish.

When they met in 1972 as freshmen in college, the only dinner entree she would eat was beef. Mr. Hayden, though, was adventurous about food.

Determined and focused at work, Mr. Hayden, 47, was chief financial officer of Netegrity, an Internet security company in Waltham, Mass. He was aboard United Airlines Flight 175 when it hit the south tower.

He rarely talked of work at home, but instead was a great listener, helping solve the workaday issues for his children, John, 17, and Elizabeth, 19.

The family ate dinner together every night. He liked to cook on weekends, frequently making salmon on Saturday nights. He sought out new restaurants to try, and when he traveled he chose exotic foods. He even got his wife to try them, too.

"I moved beyond beef," Mrs. Hayden said, with a laugh.

There was one thing she hadn't moved beyond: the feeling that they were young, and in love.

"He made me feel like I was 18," she said. "I loved that."
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on


Martha Reszke
Pentagon


Reszke, 56, was a civilian budget analyst for the U.S. Army, and her first floor office at the Pentagon was directly below where American Airlines Flight 77 crashed.

She was born in Karlsruhe, Germany, but moved to the United States in 1961 after her mother married an American Army soldier.

She was a graduate of Texas Christian University and had worked as a civilian employee of the Department of Defense since marrying Jim Reszke--now retired from the Army--in 1979.

She had worked in the Pentagon since 1993.

On Thursday, a military casualty assistance officer visited Jim to tell him what he had known instinctively. What remains that can be found will be turned over to him after they are identified.

"We're going to have a memorial service anyway, because we've got to have closure,"Jim Reszke said. "When we do get the remains, we're going to have another small ceremony with just the immediate family."

Both ceremonies will be next to the garden Martha Reszke, the mother of two and grandmother of five, loved so much.

Profile courtesy of THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE.



Sgt. Maj. Larry L. Strickland
Pentagon


SGT. MAJOR LARRY L. STRICKLAND, 52, of Woodbridge, Va., was to retire soon as senior adviser on personnel issues to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He was not scheduled to be at work on Sept. 11, when American Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon. His mother, Olga Strickland, said her son went to work on his day off because he was dedicated. "He liked to fish and he was a gourmet cook," she said. "He liked the outdoors, he liked to fix things around the house. He was a jack of all trades. He could do a little bit of everything. He inherited that from his father." Strickland is survived by his wife and three children.

Copyright © 2001 The Associated Press



Shannon M. Fava
World Trade Center


She Dances in His Heart

Frank and Shannon Fava would have celebrated their seventh wedding anniversary on Monday, so Mr. Fava was in a reflective mood this week. He remembered the first time he saw his wife. She was walking into a bagel shop in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. She was 18, and he was shy.

"I had seen her once or twice before, and I just had to talk to her," Mr. Fava said. "I'm a shy guy, but we started talking and just clicked."

What he thought might have been a fling turned into "my first true love," he said. "I watched her grow into a woman."

The woman Shannon Fava became loved to hug their 3-year-old son, Joseph Anthony, rent movies and laugh. Mrs. Fava, 30, worked as an assistant broker for Cantor Fitzgerald and lived in Bensonhurt. Mr. Fava said he can almost still see his wife dancing around the house to whatever is on MTV. He thinks that might be because she called after the plane hit her tower and said, "Tell the baby I'll always be with him, and you."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on October 24, 2001.


Alan D. Feinberg
World Trade Center


Mr. Mom's Fire Truck


When Wendy Feinberg recalls meeting Alan D. Feinberg 21 years ago, she remembers not only the man, but also his car — a sharp Datsun 240-Z. From that encounter in the parking lot of a Sheepshead Bay diner came marriage, children and a life for Mr. Feinberg as both a firefighter and a Mr. Mom.

Unbeknownst to his wife, Alan Feinberg, who worked at the time as a salesman of buttons and boys' clothes in the garment district, secretly wanted to be a firefighter. Four years into the marriage, that is what he became. To compensate for a cut in salary, Mr. Feinberg took advantage of the flexible hours of firefighting to remain home with Tara, now 18, and Michael, 15, while Wendy took the 6:05 a.m. into the city to work as a broker at Cantor Fitzgerald, a job she left in 1996.

His children remember Firefighter Feinberg, 48, making breakfast, putting them on the school bus and being the "class dad" who chaperoned school field trips and coached baseball and soccer. As his children got older, Firefighter Feinberg, who was the battalion chief aide at Engine Company 54 in Manhattan, took on a second job that built on his love of fancy cars: he became a transporter of new cars to the automotive press, which would then write about them. Just recently, he was thrilled to have dropped off a PT Cruiser and a red 2002 Corvette. "He would have loved that new Thunderbird if he had seen it," his wife said. "He was doing what he wanted to do," she added. "He was very happy. Everyone should have had such a happy life. He was the little boy who never grew up."
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 22, 2001.



Alan Feinberg, 48, loved helping others


Alan Feinberg's penchant for helping came naturally, if not effortlessly.

A firefighter for 19 years, Mr. Feinberg's helping hand was not limited to his work but was extended to anyone in need, from passers-by at his Midtown Manhattan firehouse to youngsters at his children's games.

"He was an excellent firefighter, but one of the things that distinguished Al is his enthusiasm, his endless energy," said George Maier, a chief at Battalion 9 who worked with Mr. Feinberg for the past five years. "Whether it was somebody looking for directions, locked out of their car, or just asking for the time, Al could not do enough to help anybody with any type of problem."

So when terrorists struck the World Trade Center, Mr. Feinberg did not hesitate to race to the scene. He, along with 14 others from his firehouse, hasn't been seen since. Maier said 32 men from the battalion remain missing and are presumed dead.

A memorial service for Mr. Feinberg, 48, will be held at 8:15 p.m. today at Marlboro Jewish Center at Schoolhouse and Wyncrest roads in Marlboro. The family will receive friends from 7:15 p.m. until the time of the service.

Born in Brooklyn, Mr. Feinberg moved to Marlboro 16 years ago. He was an assistant battalion chief, responsible for most of the administrative duties concerning the five fire companies that make up Battalion 9.

As much as he was devoted to his firefighting duties, Maier said his colleague was equally enthusiastic about his time with his children. "He was a proud father, and believe me, we heard it after each game."

That pride was not lost with his daughter, Tara, who at age 17 wrote a moving essay about her father as a hero for an application to the University of Florida in Gainesville, which she now attends.

"My father has taught me the true meaning of a hero," wrote Tara, now 18. "It amazes me how someone can have such an unyielding desire to help others, even when there is a constant risk of the danger involved. Even when my father is not fighting fires, he is altruistic in other ways. If there is an accident on the road, he will always stop to administer first aid and call the police. My father is the first one to run onto the field at a soccer game to make sure the player is not seriously hurt."

As much as she was proud of her dad's work, she also said she realized his job was a dangerous one, and knew one day he might not come home.

In addition to his daughter, Mr. Feinberg is survived by his wife of 23 years, Wendy; a son, Michael; his parents, Harold and Sylvia Feinberg of Brooklyn; and a sister, Ilene Kustin of Brooklyn.

In lieu for flowers, memorial contributions may be made to the Alan Feinberg Family Fund, P.O. Box 883, Manalapan, N.J. 07726.

Profile by Michael A. Wattkis published in THE STAR-LEDGER.

 

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[JennyMominRI]

Timothy J. Finnerty
World Trade Center


Basketball and Hijinks

On Sept. 8, Timothy J. Finnerty's cousin was getting married. Some family was up from Atlanta. He was tired. It had been a long week. But he knew a cousin's daughter had never seen Manhattan. So at 8:30 p.m., he and his wife, Theresa Finnerty, did a tour of the entire city with her.

"He wanted her to be able to go back to her friends and say she saw it," Ms. Finnerty said. "We walked around the World Trade Center, and he even tried to get us into the office; at Cantor Fitzgerald on the 105th floor. But the office was locked."

A bond trader -- and impromptu tour guide -- Mr. Finney had one great obsession: "He lived and breathed basketball," Ms. Finnerty said. He was a guard at the University of Scranton in the late 1980's, and played in the N.C.A.A. championships, Division III.

Mr. Finnerty, who was 33, loved to coach, too. At Wagner College in Staten Island, he was an assistant coach.

"When we moved to Glen Rock, N.J., he wanted to coach seventh and eighth graders," Ms. Finnerty said. Last year, he got the chance. "St. Catherine's, my church, had a team. And those kids loved him," she said.

"He was just silly and goofy. If a kid was quiet, within minutes he would have the kid laughing," Ms. Finnerty said. At the wedding of his cousin, on Sept. 8, he did goofy dances -- the lawn mower dance and the sprinkler dance.

"I don't know where they came from," Ms. Finnerty said. "But I was laughing so hard I had tears coming down my face."
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 5, 2001.



Timothy Finnerty, master of jump shots, helped anyone in need


Anyone who has ever played pick-up basketball knows players like Timothy Finnerty.

Mr. Finnerty was that guy with the sweetest of jump shots who never seemed to miss from 20 feet.

To opponents, he was the guy who made defenders pay the price for leaving him alone with the ball and a view of the basket. For his teammates, though, he could bail out anyone who had dribbled into a corner.

Those who knew Mr. Finnerty best say that is the way he was on and off the court -- always looking to help anyone who needed it.

"There was a group of 10 or 12 of us who grew up together playing sports in Rutherford," recalled Jack Sullivan, one of Mr. Finnerty's longtime friends. "He'd do anything for us, or anyone he met, for that matter. Tim never had a problem getting along with anybody."

Mr. Finnerty, a broker at Cantor Fitzgerald, was working at One World Trade Center when a hijacked jet crashed into the building Sept. 11. Immediately after the crash, Mr. Finnerty called his father to let him know he was OK. He has not been heard from since.

Mr. Finnerty was 33 and lived in Glen Rock with his wife, Theresa.

After a youth filled with success on the basketball court capped off by a spot on the University of Scranton basketball team, Mr. Finnerty became a coach in his spare time, first as an assistant at Wagner University from 1991 to 1994, and more recently at the St. Catherine Roman Catholic Church in Glen Rock, where he coached the seventh- and eighth-grade boys team.

Unlike most of the coaches, Mr. Finnerty did not have a son who played on the team. Theresa Finnerty, Mr. Finnerty's college sweetheart and wife for the past two years, said her husband coached the team because he enjoyed being around the children.

"He loved basketball and he loved kids," she said. "He was so good at teaching and relating to them on their level."

Aside from his exploits on the basketball court, Mr. Finnerty also will be remembered as the guest who would never let a wedding party die down. Just when the action on the dance floor began to slow, Mr. Finnerty would grab a chair and a microphone and perform one of his unforgettable, arm- flailing dances to a '70s hit, such as the Village People's "YMCA."

"He wasn't John Travolta, but there'd be a circle and one person in the middle of it and it would be him," Sullivan said. "He was the life of the party."

In addition to his wife and father, Peter of Rutherford, Mr. Finnerty is survived by a brother, Kevin of Seattle, and his grandmother, Alice Bannon of Marietta, Ga.

Profile by Matthew Futterman published in THE STAR-LEDGER.



Christina Flannery
World Trade Center


Everyone's Best Friend


Christina Donovan Flannery was not your stereotypical New Yorker; she was friendly. "It was like she came from some place where you were supposed to talk to everyone," said Brian Flannery, her husband of three months. The couple commuted together every day from their home in Middle Village, Queens — he to a brokerage firm in Midtown, while she headed downtown to Sandler O'Neill & Partners, where she was a sales associate.

While her husband got familiar with the newspaper, Ms. Flannery made new friends. "She knew the life story of five different people every day," Mr. Flannery said. "She made everyone feel like she was their best friend."

Ms. Flannery, 26, grew up in Middle Village, and her dreams focused more on marriage than career. One hobby, said her best friend, Nicole Lagnese, was crashing weddings. "We used to drive around from church to church on Saturdays to see how other people had done it and get ideas for our own," Ms. Lagnese said.

Six years ago, Ms. Flannery met her future husband on the trading floor of HSBC Bank USA. He asked her to marry him one evening in July 2000 as the sun was setting at Jones Beach, the same spot they had gone on their first date.

On Sept. 11, they were waiting to sign the contract on a house on Cranberry Lane in Plainview, on Long Island. "There was lots of room," Mr. Flannery said. "A big yard for our dog, Tye. She even loved the name of the street."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on January 27, 2002.

Michelle Herman Goldstein
World Trade Center


Blessed to Be Dazzled

Michelle Goldstein was a small-town girl. She was still dazzled by the ordinary big-city indulgences ‹ getting Chinese food at any hour, eating sushi, popping into a Banana Republic store just below her East Side apartment.

And she was still – blessedly, as her husband, Ed, saw it – untarnished by the big-city ways. She smiled a lot, a big, beaming smile. She thanked him for the little things he did, typing up something for her, picking up something at the store. She liked to tell him they were blessed.

"She always was positive," Mr. Goldstein said. "She symbolized life more than anyone I've ever met."

He would tell his friends: "I had to go to Florida to import her. She was so different from a lot of people you meet around here."

They met on a blind date. She lived in Coral Springs, Fla. He was visiting his family. His mother set them up. And within six months, the woman whom her sister, Annete Herman, described as "the queen of three-, four-, five-year relationships," was packing her bags to move to New York, where she found a job in brokerage services at Aon at 2 World Trade Center.

Michelle and Ed, both 31, were married last February. But Michelle and Annete still spoke every day, without fail.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on October 17, 2001.


Philip Haentzler
World Trade Center


Steadfast Loyalty

Philip Haentzler left for work early on Tuesday the 11th so he could take Wednesday off to help his 90-year-old mother, Madeleine, of Woodside, Queens, work out a winter lease for a Florida condo. "He was the kind of guy who would work two extra days so he could take off one," said his longtime companion, Patricia Thompson. "He was the most loyal person I knew."

Mr. Haentzler, 49, showed his loyalty in staying on as one of the last administrators working out the final details on dissolving the brokerage firm Kidder Peabody after its acquisition by PaineWebber Group and then, last year, PaineWebber's sale to UBS, the Swiss banking giant. And he showed it with his plants, which cluttered his office on the 101st floor of 1 World Trade Center and his home in Staten Island. Ms. Thompson stood among them in their home on Sept. 11, watching the towers burn across the harbor.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on September 30, 2001

Nezam A. Hafiz
World Trade Center


Mild-Mannered Cricket Star

During the week, Nezam A. Hafiz was a mild-mannered analyst for Marsh & McLennan, the insurance giant.

On the weekend, he was something else: a cricket star.

But a mild-mannered cricket star. "He was a proper gent, as we like to say, on the field and off the field," said Lesly R. Lowe, president of the Commonwealth Cricket League, of which Mr. Hafiz was captain.

Mr. Hafiz, 32, was a member of the United States national team, which last year actually defeated an English team on its home turf. He had also been captain of the American Cricket Society.

In Guyana, where he was born, Mr. Hafiz played on the under-19 national team, said his sister, Debbie Ally. He moved to New York about a decade ago, she said, and lived with his parents in South Ozone Park, Queens.

Mr. Hafiz was admired for his cricket skills, but "more than that, he was a very likable guy," said Atul Rai, president of the United States of America Cricket Association. "People liked him for his manners. In cricket, those things are also important."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 27, 2001.


Donald G. Havlish Jr.
World Trade Center


A Love That Almost Wasn't


As love stories go, the tale of Fiona and Donald G. Havlish Jr., well, it almost never happened.

While a mutual friend pleaded for months with Mrs. Havlish to meet her future husband, a senior vice president at Aon, she resisted, convinced, though she had never seen him, that the relationship would never work. "Guys do not like women with two kids," Mrs. Havlish told the friend.

But the friend persisted, cleverly arranging a meeting of the two at a corporate picnic. Mr. Havlish was the tall, dark-haired stranger with the quick laugh and the bouquet of spring flowers. "I just fell in love with his sense of humor," Mrs. Havlish said. Two months later, the two were engaged. They married a year and half later, on a beach in Bermuda, at sunset. Mrs. Havlish's children became his children, soon joined by a daughter of their own.

It is a story, one of many that Mrs. Havlish is saving for Michaela, 4, whose smile would send her 53-year-old father racing home to Yardley, Pa. "I tell her that Daddy is still watching over us, that he'll always love her."
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 29, 2001.


The day Michaela Havlish started preschool was going to be a very big deal. She couldn't wait for her father to come home from work that night so she could tell him all about it.

Michaela's first day of school was Sept. 11, and her father never came home. Donald G. Havlish Jr., 53, a senior vice president of Aon Consulting, was among the thousands killed in the World Trade Center attack.

That first night, Fiona Havlish told Michaela that "Daddy's building was in an accident, a big accident, and nobody knows where Daddy is." Later, she changed the explanation to "he's up in heaven, guarding us."

The couple married in 1993 after a five-year courtship. Don was "a great stepdad" to Fiona's two children, now 18 and 20. Yet at nearly 50, he never expected to have another shot at parenthood. He called Michaela, who will turn 4 on Oct. 17, "my little miracle," Fiona recalled.

After Michaela was born, he made it a point to ask business associates about their families, "encouraging them to focus on what's important." Havlish also stopped taking overnight business trips.

He had a law degree from Duquesne University but made his living as "a broker of insurance," arranging corporate benefit packages. The commute from his home in Yardley, Pa., to the World Trade Center took up to 90 minutes each way, but he made it a point to get home by 7 p.m. so he could have the evening with his family.

Since Sept. 11, Fiona hasn't been back to her job as a visiting nurse. She holds her days together by making lists of everything that needs to be accomplished. Her loss drags at her like an undertow, yet she's determined to keep her husband's memory alive for their daughter--and herself.

"I was very lucky," Fiona says. "I got to fall in love at first sight, and I got to stay in love the whole time."

Profile courtesy of THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE.



Ronnie Lee Henderson
World Trade Center


An Abundance of Family

He may have been earning a fireman's salary, but Ronnie Lee Henderson planned all along to turn that into more. He pared money from his paycheck and put it into bonds and mutual funds. In the quiet hours at the Engine Company 279 firehouse in Red Hook, he could be found reading books with titles like "How to Make Money Buying and Selling Houses."

"I'd say to him, 'What are you doing? You're a fireman, you know what we get paid,' " said a friend, Gary Kakeh.

The father of four children, Mr. Henderson also helped raise his five younger siblings. His advice to all of them was consistent: stay in school, save your money. He figured out travel routes that enabled him to avoid paying bridge and tunnel tolls, and would stand in line for hours to get the store specials, said his sister, Sharon.

As a teenager, he got a job in a Frito-Lay factory and got to bring home the extra potato chips. Naturally, he shared them with the rest of his family. "And he'd charge us a nickel," she added.

"He was always telling us he was going to be a millionaire," Ms. Henderson said. "He was a millionaire, by his heart."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 18, 2001.

 

[JennyMominRI]

William R. Johnston
World Trade Center


Soccer and Football Whiz

For a while there, a large firefighter was walking around with one eyebrow. That was thanks to William R. Johnston of Engine Company 6 in Manhattan.

It happened while the Fire Department football team was on the road, and Mr. Johnston shaved off his teammate's eyebrow while the fellow was sleeping: part of some undetermined high jinks, said Mr. Johnston's sister, Diane Cuff. He was the quiet one in a North Babylon, N.Y., family of four siblings, but could be mischievous outside of it. While on a date at a Ground Round restaurant one night, Mrs. Cuff said, she heard a familiar-sounding croon. It was Mr. Johnston, singing "Roxanne" into a microphone. "He was a character, and everyone loved him for that," she said.

The Fire Department and sports grabbed Mr. Johnston more than anything else. He joined the football team as a kicker because of his soccer prowess. His friend since age 5, Eugene Masula, said that Mr. Johnston played professional indoor soccer and had "a rocket of a right foot." On their team in a Long Island amateur league, Mr. Johnston was the center midfielder, or playmaker.

Until joining the Fire Department nearly two years ago, Mr. Johnston worked for the Transit Authority as an ironworker, tending to elevated subway tracks. A high-school friend, John Kolich, joined the New York Police Department around the same time as Mr. Johnston. "We both were really ecstatic for each other," he said. Not long afterward, Officer Kolich found himself attending Mr. Johnston's funeral in full dress. "I never thought in a million years I'd wear my uniform for my best friend," he said.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 30, 2001.


Boris Khalif
World Trade Center


A Tiny, Rapt Audience

Boris Khalif moved to the United States from Ukraine at the age of 10, loved computers and devoured everything he could find about them. When he got his first computer in high school, he took it apart and then put it back together. At first it did not work, so he kept fiddling until it did. Friends and relatives brought their computer problems to him and he fixed them. Mr. Khalif, 30, who lived in Brooklyn, was working as a computer consultant at Marsh & McLennan in 1 World Trade Center on Sept. 11.

Although his son, Steven, was still only 2, Mr. Khalif had already begun to buy him children's games for the computer. But Steven was fascinated watching Mr. Khalif play his own computer games. "War games, fighting, monsters, our son liked to watch them all," said Mr. Khalif's wife, Ella. "That's how I fed my son. He was too busy watching what my husband was doing to feed himself."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 16, 2001.

Jeanette LaFond-Menichino
World Trade Center


For Art and Mother

Jeanette LaFond-Menichino was the kind of woman who took pictures of sunsets. She would take her car, leave the city and drive for hours, enjoying nature. Later, her observations — the blossoming flower, the flowering tree, the imposing mountain and the sparkling waterfalls — would end up on the canvases that surrounded her at home in Brooklyn. Ms. LaFond-Menichino, 49, an accounts analyst for Guy Carpenter Insurance Company in the World Trade Center, was an artist at heart.

"I guess that if you don't have flowers and trees around you, you become fascinated by them," said Dina LaFond, 77, who keeps dozens of her daughter's paintings in her home. "Her winter scenes are out of this world and she painted Halloween pumpkins that looked so alive they seem to come out of the painting."

Ms. LaFond-Menichino, who lived with her parents until her late 30's and married four years ago, was especially close to her mother. The two went shopping every weekend. Mrs. LaFond, who relied on her daughter for matters of taste in everything from winter coats to furniture style, calls Ms. LaFond-Menichino her "second right arm."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 27, 2001.


Michael F. Lynch
World Trade Center


Lightening the Mood

In a family of 10 children like the Lynches -- this one Democrat, that one Republican, some of them independents -- disagreements happen. And at family dinners, Michael, the seventh oldest, was peacemaker. He would don a silly hat, utter a one-liner, and "they would just realize we shouldn't take ourselves too seriously," said his father, Jack.

Michael Lynch, 31, was a firefighter with Ladder Company 32 in the Bronx, and diffused the tension there too. Every time a Federal Express truck drove by station, he would yell, "WILSON!" and run after it like Tom Hanks in "Cast Away." Out on call, he would scream at his friend Bill Owens from the back of the truck, "O-WEN!" — as the horrible mother does to Danny Devito in "Throw Momma From the Train."

In November, Firefighter Lynch was scheduled to marry Stephanie Luccioni. But the Lynch family has a news video of Michael and firefighters from Engine Company 40, where he was on rotation on Sept. 11, responding to the World Trade Center attack. In it, Michael Lynch's face is somber. It was about 9:44 a.m. The men were rushing down a stairwell in 4 World Trade Center, and heading underground toward the south tower.
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 15, 2001.


Michael F. Lynch, 30, of Bronx, New York, a firefighter with Engine62/Ladder 32 of the New York Fire Department who was on rotation to Engine 40, died saving others in the attack on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. Michael, the seventh of ten children born to Kathleen V. and Jack Lynch, was engaged to be married to Stephanie Luccioni on November 16.

Michael was a gentle, loving person who was known for his quick humor and love of life. He was an avid fisherman, outdoorsman, and sports lover. He coached a children's soccer team and was a well known DJ who played at many local and charitable events. He once worked for Dean Witter in the World Trade Center but left that job to fulfill his dream of becoming a firefighter. Michael will be remembered by his family and friends as a brave and kind person who made us laugh and brought joy to our lives. We miss him terribly.

Tribute submitted by Kathleen A.Lynch

Robert D. Mattson
World Trade Center


A Hero in 1993


Robert D. Mattson did not seek out danger. But danger seemed to have a way of finding him. A lot of his friends managed to avoid Vietnam. He ended up over there in the Army, smack in the middle of harm's way, came home with a Bronze Star for valor and some memories he would never share, not even with his wife, Elizabeth. "He would just slough it off as not worth talking about whenever I asked," she said.

Then, in 1993, when terrorists attacked the World Trade Center the first time, with a truck bomb, Mr. Mattson, a banker with Fiduciary Trust Company International, found himself in harm's way again. One of his co-workers in the stricken tower was eight and a half months pregnant, unable to make her way down 96 flights of stairs to the street after the elevators stopped. He was one of a handful of people who helped carry her up more than a dozen flights to the roof, where a helicopter plucked her to safety.

On Sept. 11, when the trade center was attacked again, Mr. Mattson called Mrs. Mattson on his cellphone a few minutes after the first plane had struck and told her not to worry, he was in no danger, the plane had hit the other tower. But just to be on the safe side, he said, he was leaving his building and, in fact, was already down to the 90th floor.

He was 54 and lived in the Green Pond section of Rockaway Township in New Jersey.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 22, 2001.



Robert Mattson, 54, 'ordinary good guy'
Robert D. Mattson was one of the last people to leave the World Trade Center when it was bombed by terrorists in 1993.

At that time, Mr. Mattson, a decorated Army veteran of Vietnam and longtime banker with Fiduciary Trust Company International, helped rescue a pregnant co-worker before being airlifted to safety from a rooftop.

"He was there in '93 and was the last one out," Mr. Mattson's wife, Elizabeth, recalled. "An employee was 81/2 months pregnant, and he stayed with her. They carried her 16 flights to the roof. They came off the roof in a helicopter."

On Sept. 11, Mr. Mattson, a 54-year-old resident of the Green Pond section of Rockaway Township, was working on the 96th floor of the South Tower when the North Tower was struck by a hijacked plane. He spoke to his wife of 29 years to tell her he was all right and was making his way out of the building.

"He called me and said, 'A plane hit Tower One. It's not my building. I'm all right and I'm on my way out.' He was on the 90th floor," Elizabeth Mattson said.

Then, the second airplane struck Two World Trade Center.

Though she may never know for sure, she has heard that her husband was once again trying to hasten the evacuation of others by "directing traffic" inside the building.

"He was a wonderful husband and a great father. He was just an ordinary good guy," she said.

Employed as a senior vice president for Fiduciary Trust, Mr. Mattson worked for the firm the past 30 years.

Mr. Mattson was born in Brooklyn, attended Cardinal Farley Military Academy in New York and graduated from the College of Santa Fe in New Mexico in 1969.

For his heroism in Vietnam, Mr. Mattson was awarded the Bronze Star.

During the past 21 years, Mr. Mattson lived in Green Pond, where he was a former president of the community's board of directors. He also was a former Little League and basketball coach in Rockaway Township. Mr. Mattson was an avid runner and enjoyed playing tennis and golf.

Along with his wife, Mr. Mattson is survived by a daughter, Jean, 22, and a son, James, 21, both at home; his mother, Marguerite Mattson; and a brother, William Mattson, both of Staten Island, N.Y.

A memorial Mass will be held Saturday at 10:30 a.m. at St. Catherine of Siena Church in Mountain Lakes.


Profile by Jim Lockwood published in THE STAR-LEDGER.

 

[JennyMominRI]

Patricia A. McAneney
World Trade Center


Like a Firefighter

As a little girl, Patricia McAneney was rarely without her toy fireman's hat. She grew up honest and conscientious, embodying the firefighter ideal. Ms. McAneney never joined the Fire Department, but her strong principles brought loyalty from friends and admiration from co-workers. She was the fire marshal of her floor of 1 World Trade Center, where she worked for the insurance company Guy Carpenter.

"If one of us committed a crime, Pat would be the last person we could go to because she would turn you in," said Margaret Cruz, who shared a home with Ms. McAneney for nearly 20 years. Ms. McAneney's droll sense of humor shined through when Ms. Cruz teased her about this. "She said she might give me a few hours' head start," Ms. Cruz said.

Phyllis Libretti, a friend since childhood, cherishes a plaque given to her by Ms. McAneney. It says:

The reason why we're such good friends/ is very plain to see

I understand the things you do/you have respect for me

No complicated folks are we/no striving to be clever

Yes, friends may come and friends may go/but we'll be friends forever

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 2, 2001.



Sharon Moore
World Trade Center


Laughing at Her Stumbles

For all of Sharon Moore's beauty and elegance ‹ a slender 5 feet, 9 inches, she was a sometime model whose photo was featured in an issue of Esquire ‹ she lacked a certain physical grace. "She was a very clumsy person," said Barbara Bridges, Ms. Moore's mother. "She was always falling."

But Ms. Moore, 37, and a native New Yorker, was not embarrassed by her many stumbles. "She would come home and tell us how she fell," said her brother, Raybury Moore. "She was able to laugh at it."

Though her relationship with gravity was undeniable, Ms. Moore, a vice president at Sandler O'Neill, had another side that was less evident. "At her memorial service, I said a few words, but one thing I didn't convey is how funny she was," said her brother. She was even thinking of pursuing a career as an actor or comedian, he said.

With her gone, there is less to laugh about. Ms. Moore's son, Lance, was a Thanksgiving baby, said his grandmother. He will be 15 at the end of this month. "But I don't think there will be a Thanksgiving here this year," said Ms. Bridges. "I don't really feel like Thanksgiving."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 18, 2001.


Michael D. Mullan
World Trade Center


Things We'll Never Know

Michael D. Mullan honored his father by following him into the military, he honored his mother by following her into nursing, and he honored himself by becoming a firefighter, his brother, Patrick, said in a eulogy.

Sometimes Firefighter Mullan combined his vocations, like when he told a young boy named Steve who had a 106-degree fever that if he let him put in an I.V., he would get a trip to the firehouse.

Steve has a picture of himself with Firefighter Mullan, 34, who worked at Ladder Company 12 in Manhattan's Chelsea section, next to the fire pole.

"Michael loved to play the piano," said his mother, Theresa. "He played the piano like Jerry Lee Lewis, and when he got up, the piano went into cardiac arrest."

A captain in the Army Reserve, he was planning to become a nurse practitioner. He lived with his parents in Bayside, Queens, and had a girlfriend.

"I know what his goals were, but what would he have attained and achieved?" Mrs. Mullan said. "Would he have married, and been a father? We'll never know."
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 25, 2001.



My World Trembled Today
By:
Patrick J. Mullan II

(This poem is dedicated to New York City’s Bravest, the selfless men and women of the Fire Department of the City of New York. This poem is especially dedicated to the brave souls of Ladder12, the Pride of Chelsea. Most of all, this poem is dedicated to my brother Fire Fighter Michael Dermott Mullan, Badge Number 7830, who courageously gave up his life in the Marriott Hotel on September 11, 2001. His honor and glory will not be forgotten.)

My world trembled today.
The slaves of evil smote us with fire and dismay!

Destruction and death, they carried on the morning breeze.
Their evil mission was to bring us all to our knees.

Ground rolled, earth groaned, and the sky went black.
Death came from the sky; our country was under attack!

Alarm bells rang out; many knew that they would die.
They dialed their cell phones to tell their loved ones good-bye.

Who would respond to the alarms and devastation?
The Fire Fighters of New York answered the call, the bravest of our nation!

Helmets, respirators and turnout coats were pulled down from the rack.
Our brothers were going in! Many would never come back.

Red flashing lights pierced the blackness, sirens like war horns did bray.
The brothers ignored the smoke and fire as they climbed the stairway.

Water, rope, ax and halligan they brought into the fray.
“May God Bless and Protect you. Be safe,” men, women and children did say.

Hundreds of lives they had saved and some fire fighters made it back out.
But, “A tower is down!” they could hear some people shout.

No dishonor would they bring to their brothers or their names,
They had pledged their lives to save others; they went back into the flames!

Smoke filled the air, and hot fire blackened their skin,
But lives were in danger, so they went right back in.

They fought without fear, like ancient warrior poets of old.
Their strong backs were bent; their courageous hearts were bold.

Lives by the thousands, our heroes saved that fateful day,
As steel beams melted, and concrete gave way!

Sheetrock and glass rained down like hail.
But souls were in peril; the brothers could not fail!

The battle was lost when the second tower came down.
The damage was too great, and the fire would not drown.

Our bravest and best fell answering that call.
And, great and terrible was the sound of their mighty fall!

Our innocence died on that evil day.
But our heroes made the sacrifice for us; their courage never would sway!

To rescue even one person, they gave up their lives.
They left behind their families, their children and their wives.

As the Angels wailed with sorrow and the sun turned red,
Many families knew that their loved ones were dead.

Men were silent and bowed down their heads.
Women tore at their hair, and wept alone in their beds.

Children cried bitter tears and all cried out loud,
“They are lost forever, in the fire and in the black cloud.”

We stand now in awe, our hearts crushed and broken,
Our faces wet with tears, and mournful words we have spoken.

We will never see the like of them again,
Not until the sun and the moon has died, and the world comes to an end.

But those of us who survive, must always recall,
“Heroes may not live long, but cowards never live at all!”

We will live on to tell their brave story,
never forgetting their honor, never forgetting their glory!

Our children must be made to remember their valiant last stand.
Our grandchildren must be taught to say,
“Thank You. We love you. You are the Pride of our land!”

My world trembled today,
my brother is gone, he is far away.

 

[JennyMominRI]

Dorothy Mauro
World Trade Center


A Chill for a Twin

The friends of Dorothy and Margaret Mauro must have envied their relationship. As twins, they played the kind of tricks and had the kind of friendship that others fantasize about. When blind dates took them dancing, they switched partners mid-evening — and the men never guessed. Throughout elementary and junior high school, they sat beside each other in class. "When they separated us," said Margaret, "it was like being split in half."

"You always have a playmate, a companion," she continued. "She was somebody to talk to who understood me completely."

Eventually Margaret, 55, moved to Nashville, while Dorothy, a state tax clerk working at the World Trade Center, remained in Brooklyn. But they talked every day — after arriving at work, when they returned home, before bed. On Sept. 11, they spoke at 8:30 a.m. "about what I was planning to cook," said Margaret. "About how busy I was going to be."

After hanging up, she said, she felt a chill. "I told myself it wasn't true," she said. "But when I tried to call, the phone was dead."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on October 15, 2001.


Brian G. McDonnell
World Trade Center


'A Cop's Cop'

Maggie McDonnell is trying to keep Christmas normal for her two children. Their Long Island lawn is decorated in lights and they will have a tree. The tree will be decorated in red, white and blue, and Daddy's police cap will stand atop it.

Brian McDonnell was a member of the Emergency Service Unit Truck 1, stationed on East 21st Street in Manhattan. He was last seen heading into the south tower. "Brian was a cop's cop," Mrs. McDonnell said. "When people get in trouble they call the police; when the police get in trouble they call Emergency Services."

But more important to him than the job were his children, Katie, 8, and Thomas, 3. When his daughter was born, he was there in the delivery room holding his wife's hand, gently weeping.

A former Army paratrooper, Officer McDonnell, 38, was never decorated in his 15-year career because he never wrote himself up for an commendation. "He wasn't showy," his wife said. "It wasn't his nature. He just wanted to help people."

Once, he saw a little girl waving to him and the mother pulled her in the window and scolded her: "'Don't wave to him, police are bad,'" Mrs. McDonnell recalled. "It crushed him."
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 15, 2001.


McDONNELL-Brian, N.Y.P.D. Police Officer. Tragically lost in the line of duty on September 11, 2001 in the World Trade Center disaster. Survived by his beloved wife Margaret and cherished children Katie and Thomas, dear brothers Robert and Kevin, devoted sister Alicia, and his loving mother Ann Claire. Brian was a loyal friend to many, and he will be sorely missed. His command was Emergency Service Squad #

Paid Notice published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on October 11, 2001.



Amy O'Doherty
World Trade Center


Promise of City Life

To Amy O'Doherty, in her first job and apartment, Manhattan's streets emanated excitement and its air, promise — of new friends and smart conversations over steaks at Morton's, and of unlimited success. Of what Geraldine Davie, her mother, called "the largeness of life."

Ms. O'Doherty, 23, loved her job as a broker's assistant at Cantor Fitzgerald. "Financing, trading, bonds," said Liz Gallello, a childhood friend. "She wanted to take it – the career, the city woman lifestyle – as far as far it could go."

She was delighted with her five-story walk-up — so small, said Ms. Davie, that "Lilliputians should live in it." She filled it with dozens of framed photos of friends from Pelham, N.Y., where she grew up, and from camp, college and work.

"She was soaking up that great New York style," said Ms. Davie. "Picking up that New York language. She didn't know it but she was living her bliss."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on October 1, 2001.


James Pappageorge
World Trade Center


Dedicated to Saving People

As a boy, James Pappageorge was afraid of doctors. But he spent much of his adult life learning about medicine and saving people — as an emergency medical technician, then a paramedic and, finally, a firefighter. "He was always carrying books, and he was always enrolled in some sort of course," said Gina Pinos, his fiancée.

Not that Firefighter Pappageorge was the bookish type. His 6-foot-1 bodybuilder's physique by itself drew attention. Then there was his hair — flowing locks that earned him the nickname Fabio before it was shorn for enrollment at the Fire Department academy. If that were not enough, there was a souped-up white Mustang, with flashing lights and an ambulance siren, "everything but the gurney," Ms. Pinos said.

It was not just for show. In the back, Firefighter Pappageorge, 29, carried a full medical kit, just in case. He decided to join the Fire Department, said his sister, Helen Pappageorge, because its schedule would leave him free time to be a paramedic.

Firefighter Pappageorge and Ms. Pinos were saving for a September 2002 wedding. Last Sept. 11, she phoned him just as Engine 23 was being sent to the trade center.



Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on September 10, 2002

Nancy E. Perez
World Trade Center


Many Things for Children

A classic Nancy Perez story is about how she started taking karate in the late '90's and one day met a class of deaf children at her karate school.

Intrigued, Ms. Perez, left, began learning American Sign Language and ended up teaching karate to the children she had befriended.

"She would do anything for anyone," said Marie Roman, one of her best friends. "I don't remember what level she got to in karate but she learned sign language in six months."

"She was an upbeat person," Ms. Roman said. "We did country line-dancing, we went to Graceland, we took boxing lessons."

Ms. Perez, 36, was a Port Authority supervisor at One World Trade Center. Single and childless, she doted on children. She even wrote a book about a little boy afraid to go to school for her 8-year-old cousin, Kyle McCann. It was printed by a friend who was a graphic artist.

Ms. Perez was always learning something new, said Maritza Conti, her older sister. She enjoyed traveling and also got a kick out of taking their parents around New York, especially the Broadway shows. The family of three girls came to New York from Cuba in 1970.

"Nancy was a wonderful person, sister, aunt, godmother and daughter," Ms. Conti said. "She just lived life to the fullest."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 13, 2001.



Kaleen E. Pezzuti
World Trade Center


Laughter and Loyalty


She graduated from Cornell University and backpacked around Europe with some sorority sisters. In fall 1995, she got a job at Cantor Fitzgerald. It was there that Kaleen Pezzuti met Matthew Grzymalski and fell in love. And there they died together.

"We are certainly hoping they were holding hands or hugging or wrapped in each other's arms somehow," said Mr. Grzymalski's sister Patti Ann Valerio.

At Mr. Grzymalski's memorial Mass, his mother gave Ms. Pezzuti's mother, Kathleen E. Pezzuti of Fair Haven, N.J., a card from Ms. Pezzuti she had found in Mr. Grzymalski's dresser. "My mom was right," she wrote. "Happiness agrees with me. I owe that all to you. I love you, K. XOXO."

Ms. Pezzuti, 28, was a loyal friend. She had blond hair, dark eyebrows, blue eyes. She never needed mascara. She played soccer. She painted. She had a contagious laugh. "On the night before, on Sept. 10, she spoke to one of her best friends and told her, `He's the one,' " said Mrs. Pezzuti, whose other daughter, Megan, lost her husband in the Sept. 11 attack. "It would have been a really wonderful family."

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 2, 2001.


Joseph Pick
World Trade Center


A Special Christmas Memory

There was something about that Christmas nearly four years ago that inspired Joseph Pick to go beyond the normal holiday routine. Not only did Mr. Pick decorate his home in Hoboken, N.J., and buy the usual assortment of presents (hiding them in black garbage bags) for his wife, Marie Puccio-Pick, and his daughter, Jeannette, but he also decided to pose as Santa Claus.

It was a major undertaking that involved secretly buying a Santa suit, slipping into it unnoticed and arriving at his in-laws' house on Christmas Eve. And it went off so well that he even surprised his wife. But he made one little mistake: The label on his sweatshirt was visible through a seam in the suit. Jeannette, now 9, and her cousin, Julianna Antonucci, recognized it right away.

Mr. Pick, a vice president at Fiduciary Trust, was quick with an explanation when confronted afterward: Because Santa was far too busy, the visitor was actually an elf. In fact, Mr. Pick went on, he was an elf.

After her father became missing on Sept. 11, Jeannette reminded her mother about that Christmas Eve. "Is Daddy still an elf?" she asked. "I said, 'Sure, he is,' " Ms. Puccio-Pick recalled. Though it was months before Christmas, Jeannette went about making her Christmas list.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on October 4, 2001.

 

[JennyMominRI]

Laura Marie Ragonese-Snik
World Trade Center


"The Best and most Beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, not touched, but are felt in the heart" ...

"Laura was like a physical force in nature. She had this gravitational pull that sprang from a well of love. It brought people together and cemented family ties. She reached into your heart and made you feel good about yourself."

"Laura meant so much to all of us. That is why when we remember Laura, we must separate her memory from the horrific scenes of the September 11th. How she died does not define the meaning of Laura's life and the contributions she made in this world. Rather, when we remember Laura, we must remember the smiles, the warm embraces, her love of music and all things beautiful and good that made our lives on earth closer to heaven because she was with us."

Excerpts from eulogy given by Peter Snik (brother-in-law)
Memorial Mass - 9/27/01

Tribute submitted by Maria Ragonese.


Ehtesham U. Raja
World Trade Center


No Fan of Fundamentalism

Ehtesham Raja loved to party and loved his $70,000 BMW 740iL. He was a Muslim from Lahore, Pakistan, and worked for TCG Software in Bloomfield, N.J. Like many Muslims from India and Pakistan, Mr. Raja, 28, loved Hindi music. He sang it in the shower, and was also crazy about the Hindi movie star Amitabh Bachan.

His best friend in the United States was Maneesh Sagar, a Hindu from India. Mr. Raja talked about how some friends from Pakistan had become fundamentalists. "He hated how fundamentalism rears its ugly head," Mr. Sagar said. "To all of us, religion is more a spiritual and personal thing than dogma."

Recently, said Mr. Sagar, Mr. Raja was thinking of giving up partying and marrying his girlfriend, Christine Lamprecht, an American.

On the weekend before he was to attend a conference at the World Trade Center, he and Mr. Sagar went partying. They talked about their dreams, and at 5 a.m. ended up at an Indian restaurant for tea and tikkas, skewered lamb. "It was a guy's night out," Mr. Sagar said. And that's how he would always remember his friend.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 14, 2001.



Joseph Reina Jr.
World Trade Center


The Thrill and the Agony


His teams gave him unending joy and unending heartbreak. He rooted for the Yankees and the Jets.

With the Yankees, of course, Joseph Reina Jr. had an abundance of warm memories, a few of them interlaced with his marriage. He was married on the day of Game 1 of the 1999 World Series, and so a friend took a small TV to the reception so Mr. Reina could check the progress. His wife, Lisa, did not mind, though if he had tried to go to the game, that would have been it.

The Jets were a different story. Mr. Reina watched their games, too, but more often than not found himself cursing at the team. Mr. Reina, 32, a manager of operations for Cantor Fitzgerald, lived with his wife in Staten Island, along with his collection of eagle statues and pictures. Their first child, Joseph Robert, was born in October.

One of the bonds between the Reinas was their dual worship of the sun. Mr. Reina adored vacations, and they had to be somewhere hot. "He was the first guy I'd met who liked to take the sun as much as I did," Mrs. Reina said.

Mrs. Reina believes that the Yankees could not quite win that final World Series game this year because her husband, and his Cantor friends who worshiped the team, were not there. But she has some little Yankees outfits for her son, whom she intends to raise as a loyal fan.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 31, 2001.


Vernon Richard
World Trade Center


Roller Coasters and Choir

Vernon Richard, his wife, Dorothy, recalled, "loved anything that had to do with roller coasters." His daughter, Vernessa, a college student, recalled the same thing.

"When I'd come home for the summer, we'd go to Great Adventure," Vernessa Richard said, "and he'd look up at the roller coaster and go 'Wow! Let's go on that!' The excitement on his face!"

Lieutenant Richard, 53, was a 24-year veteran of the Fire Department. A member of Ladder Company 7 in Manhattan, he was to have been promoted to captain in November, an elevation that occurred posthumously. A weight lifter and jogger (he ran six New York City Marathons), he sang in the choir at the First Baptist Church in Spring Valley, N.Y., near his home in Nanuet. His voice , a deep baritone, was memorable.

"When I played high school ball, and there were maybe 500 people in the stands, I'd hear nothing but his voice," said his son, Vernon II. "He'd be saying, 'Go to work, Vernon.'"

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 13, 2001.

Scott Rohner
World Trade Center


A Dream Life Cut Short

He played Prince Charming when his fourth-grade class staged "Cinderella," and Scott W. Rohner led a charmed life until his death at 22, just two paychecks into what, had he been given more time to shine as a foreign exchange trader, might have become a dream job at Cantor Fitzgerald.

"He lived an exceptional life and died an exceptional death," said his mother, Kathy Rohner of River Edge, N.J., where busy Route 17 was briefly closed the day of his funeral to accommodate the stream of mourners. Mr. Rohner had countless buddies.

After scoring a job on his first interview after graduating from Hobart College, Mr. Rohner had just bought a cellphone, acquired his own credit card and moved to Hoboken rent-free, house-sitting for his uncle. He was already hobnobbing with Cantor clients, but with a twist: instead of heading out for martinis, they hit the court for three- on-three basketball. A natural athlete, he was captain of his football and basketball teams at River Dell High School, which plans to retire his jersey.

Golf was another game that came easily; he took it up as a teenager at Ridgewood Country Club, where he worked as a caddie and locker room attendant. There was a single plot left in the cemetery abutting the fourth fairway: the club deemed it Mr. Rohner's.

Eric Sand
World Trade Center


Equity-Trading Philosopher


In his college days, Eric Sand was a philosopher and a Deadhead, voted by his fraternity brothers "most likely to come back as an abstract thought."

So when he started as a clerk on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange in the mid-90's, he found the culture a bit jarring. "He hated it," said his longtime best friend, Roger Weisman. "He said a lot of the people were ignorant, obnoxious, boorish."

Before long, however, Mr. Sand "came to understand the mindset a little better," Mr. Weisman said. It helped that he moved quickly up the ladder and was soon a trader himself.

Last January, Mr. Sand, 36, took a job at Cantor Fitzgerald, trading equities but hoping to move into management, where he could deal more with people and less with numbers, said his wife, Michele Sand. Mr. Sand liked his job, but one of his favorite things about it was that it usually let him get home to Hawthorne in Westchester County in time to tuck in his son, Aaron, who was 18 months old the last time he saw his father. "He did bedtime five nights a week," Ms. Sand said. "His attitude was, `You get him all day. I want to play with him, I want to put him to bed.' "

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 3, 2001.