For almost 30 years, Wanda A. Green followed her childhood dream. "As a teenager, she always wanted to fly, so she finally got her wings," said her mother, Aserene Smith. As a young woman, Wanda Green sought her mother's blessing to become a flight attendant. Though Aserene Smith was hesitant, she finally relented, and Wanda Green became one of the first African-Americans to join United Airlines as a flight attendant. Green, 49, was aboard United Airlines Flight 93 when it was hijacked and crashed in Pennsylvania on Tuesday. A mother of two--Jennifer, 21, and Joe Benjamin, 18--Green loved to travel and regularly planned trips to Europe. Her mother spoke to her the night before the doomed flight. "I said `I love you and I'll see you tomorrow,' and that was it."
Profile courtesy of THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE.

Shabbir Ahmed had worked as a waiter in his share of swank city restaurants since immigrating from Bangladesh in 1981, but Windows on the World was such a favorite that he stayed 11 years. His son Thanbir, 16, thinks it was because the management and customers treated him the same way he treated them: with politeness and courtesy. Also, he was earning a salary that made his dream in life -- providing a college education for his three children -- a real option; his oldest daughter, 19, attends Brooklyn College.

Fishing excursions to Gerritsen Creek and Sheepshead Bay were his favorite getaways: they reminded him of his boyhood. While he preferred to let his wife, Jeba, and his children clean whatever trout, catfish or bluefish he caught, he did lend a hand with the grilling. When Mr. Ahmed, 44, was not off fishing in his leisure hours, he was tending to the backyard vegetable garden in Marine Park, Brooklyn, a responsibility he traded with his brother on an annual basis. This summer it was his turn: chilies, squash, eggplant and tomatoes made up this year's crop, but not all of them flourished. It seems he was more vigilant pursuing fish than he was at yanking weeds and spreading fertilizer.

On the Monday night before the terrorist attack, Joanna Vidal, a 26 year old event coordinator for Risk Waters, the London based financial publishing house, was ecstatic. The first day of the company's conference at Windows on the World, an event she had helped create, had been a brilliant success. And at dinner with her father, Enrique, and her mother, Lesbia, in their Yonkers home, "she was so hurried, making her preparations, that she was eating standing up," Mr. Vidal recalled. In fact, the first day had gone so smoothly that Ms. Vidal was hoping to leave the conference after the first speaker; after all, so much work was waiting on her desk in her office at 270 Lafayette Street. On Tuesday morning she hurried to the trade center at 5:30 a.m. After the attack, "she called from the conference and said the building was on fire," Mr. Vidal said. "She said, `I want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you.' And then she was cut off."

Sometimes a wife learns things about her husband after he is gone, and this is how it has been with Eamon McEneaney's wife, Bonnie. She knew that Eamon, a senior vice president at Cantor Fitzgerald, had escaped from his office on the 105th floor after the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center, but she did not know he had been a hero. "He saved the lives of 63 people," Ms. McEneaney said from their home in New Canaan, Connecticut. "They were hysterical, and he pulled them together and wet paper towels for them to put over their faces and made them form a human chain and took them down the stairs. All he ever told me was that he came down the stairs with some friends."

Eamon McEneaney, 46. A star lacrosse player at Cornell University who had been painted by LeRoy Neiman; a father of four; a man, his wife says, who was very much like a leprechaun. He is not on the list of the dead, but his family has released his obituary and his wife says she has had enough conversations with other Cantor Fitzgerald wives who spoke with their husbands at the time of the attack to know what happened: there was fire, the stairs were engulfed in flames and the heat was bad. Ms. McEneaney did not get the opportunity to speak to her husband. She was on the way to her office, and he left a message with her assistant: "A plane had hit the building; tell Bonnie that he loved her, that he loved the children, and that he was on his way out."

Maybe there was something in the water. For some reason, perhaps a dozen men who came of age during the 1970's and 80's in Deer Park, N.Y., developed an appetite for civic duty. They became New York City police officers and firefighters in their professional lives and volunteer firefighters with Engine Company No. 2 in Deer Park in their personal ones. They called it the Deer Park Connection, and Firefighter John Vigiano and Detective Joseph Vigiano, two of the tightest brothers you could ever find, were among the best-liked and most accomplished members. Both followed the unwritten manual on growing up right in Deer Park, said their father, John Vigiano, a retired captain in the New York City Fire Department. They were active in sports. They became Eagle Scouts. They hatched pranks that were wicked in their creativity but gentle in their impact. "They never embarrassed me," said Captain Vigiano. "They were good fathers, good husbands and they were good men."

John Vigiano, at 36, was older by two years, though his brother never let him forget that he was also four inches shorter and maybe 30 pounds lighter. John was the quieter of the two, and spent as much time as possible with his two young daughters, his father said. He was a terrific hockey player (and rabid Rangers fan) and he would occasionally rent out an entire rink for his family, his brother's family and a few other friends.

Joseph Vigiano, who was known as Joey, "loved to mug for the cameras and played lacrosse on the Police Department team," said his wife, Kathy, a fellow police officer. On the job, he was commended for his bravery: he survived being shot on three different occasions. At home, he taught his two boys how to build derby cars of pine. Eventually, he was going to do the same with his youngest son, now 6 months old.

For now, the Vigianos are collecting anecdotes and tributes from friends and relatives on a new Web site, www.vigiano.com. Here, presumably, is one of the last stories: On the Sunday before Sept. 11, Kathy Vigiano returned home after the first game of the season in her soccer league, bruised and tired. She was prepared to make dinner, but instead, she saw that her husband had fixed prime rib, caesar salad, mashed potatoes, and broccoli with cheese — while watching their baby, too. All this from a guy who had previously insisted that he only knew how to make spaghetti sauce.
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 29, 2001.

Rahma Salie, of Sri Lankan descent, grew up in Japan. Michael Theodoridis, of Greek descent, grew up in Switzerland. She was a Muslim; he converted to Islam before they married in 1998. They had received some good news a few months earlier.

Ms. Salie, 28, a graduate of Wellesley College, was chief operating officer of Cinoni, and Mr. Theodoridis, 32, a graduate of Boston University, was a technology consultant in Cambridge, Mass. They lived on the outskirts of Boston and were passengers on American Airlines Flight 11 on Sept. 11, on their way to a wedding in California.

Abdullah Haydar worked for Mr. Theodoridis at I-Cube, and when they first met, he informed his boss that he needed to go to a mosque on Fridays at lunchtime. "He said, `Yeah, yeah I know,' but with a name like Michael Theodoridis, you would not necessarily expect that." Mr. Haydar remembers that he seemed to serve as Mr. Theodoridis's conscience during Ramadan, when Muslims are supposed to fast unless they are traveling. "He'd be in Germany during Ramadan, drinking a Coke, and he'd be like, `No, no, I just got here on the flight, I'm not not fasting," Mr. Haydar said. "It was a friendly thing between us." When Mr. Haydar last heard from him, Mr. Theodoridis told him how excited he was at the prospect of becoming a father. Ms. Salie was seven months' pregnant with their first child.
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on July 14, 2002.

Alberto Domínguez was 66 years old. He was born in Montevideo even though he left the country to live in Sydney, Australia. He was married and with his wife Martha they had four children and were grandparents of six. Since he was a child he practiced biking together with his brothers. He was the national champion in 1953. In 1957, he was a member of the Olympic team and took part in the PanAmerican Games of 1959 in Chicago. He also competed in speed biking in the PanAmerican games of 1963 in San Pablo.

On September 11, after visiting a relative in Boston, he was flying back home when his flight was highjacked and crashed against the World Trade Center. Dominguez worked for the baggage office of Quantas Airlines. He was a very popular person within the Uruguayan community in Sydney. He was also the host of a latin music radio program.