An uncle of mine died in the World Trade Center on 9/11.
He was 54 years old, married with two sons, one a senior in high school, the other a senior in college at the time. His wife, my aunt, has Parkinson's Disease.
My uncle was a trader for Cantor Fitzgerald; he worked on the 104th floor of the north tower. He'd been there during the 1993 attempted bombing.
He was a spectacular person. He had a way of making every one feel important. He was very good to my grandmother. You could call my Uncle John for advice and he'd listen and help. He never talked about people and he never complained. One of the greatest aims in his life was to see his sons get the best education possible.