New York Times Portraits of Grief
For much of the year, it was still dark when Frank J. Spinelli, 44, boarded the morning train at Short Hills, N.J., for the commute to Manhattan. A foreign exchange broker, he was usually at work by 6 a.m., tracking overseas markets, and his workday was often not over at 5 p.m. There were clients to wine and dine. He had been doing it for 20 years on Wall Street, though only the last seven months for Cantor Fitzgerald, on the 105th floor of 1 World Trade Center.
On weekends, he and his wife, Michelle, were on the sidelines cheering at the soccer, lacrosse, track and football games of their three children, Nicole, 17, Christopher, 14, and Danielle, 8.
"He was dedicated to his family, to the children," Mrs. Spinelli said. "That was his main focus. Many of the letters we received from his colleagues said the same thing — that his family was the most important thing in his life."
On Sept. 11, Mr. Spinelli called home and left a message. "He knew a plane had struck the building and said he was going to try to get out. The end of the message was, `I love you and I'll see you later.' " There was no panic in his voice; he had been a volunteer emergency medical technician for five years.
His body was found two weeks later.