To an outside eye, the names appear in no logical way — not arranged in alphabetical order, and not identified by age or company.
But 658 Cantor Fitzgerald employees — all killed in the Sept., 11, 2001, terror attacks at the World Trade Center — are inscribed in a very specific pattern on the bronze panels that wrap halfway around the north pool of the 9/11 Memorial.
Seemingly random but far from it, their names are surrounded by those dearest to them — not just co-workers, but close relatives, best buddies and, in one case, a cherished former baby sitter.
“They weren’t people who just worked together and went home. They made up the fabric of their lives,” said Danielle Gardner, who lost a brother in the attacks and has directed a new documentary about the financial-services firm’s staggering loss, “Out of the Clear Blue Sky.”
Cantor Fitzgerald — whose employees had occupied the 101st to 105th floors of the trade center’s north tower — fought for the “meaningful adjacencies” on the memorial, a great comfort to the victims’ families. The designer agreed, and a computer program was used to accommodate as many requests as possible. Here are some of the stories behind the groupings:
Douglas Gardner and Douglas Gurian
Gardner, 39, executive managing director, and broker Douglas Gurian, 38, first met playing on Fire Island as 3- and 4-year-old kids and remained close into adulthood. Each married and had two children around the same age — who also played together. Gurian proposed to his wife at Gardner’s place on Fire Island, and Gardner narrated a video at their wedding.
Gurian had left a job at Cantor for a firm outside the WTC but was attending a meeting at Windows on the World on 9/11. At both families’ request, Cantor placed Gurian’s name near Gardner’s (it’s just around the corner).
Between them is trader Calvin Gooding, 38, whom Gardner met at Haverford College in Haverford, Pa. On the eve of 9/11, Gardner’s sister, Danielle, called Calvin to ask him to sing and speak at Douglas’ 40th birthday party, set for Oct. 5, 2001. Gooding was overjoyed. “I’ll definitely want to perform and give a speech,” he told her.
Rosanne and Brendan Lang
Brendan, 30, a project manager for Structure Tone, was in the south tower when the first plane struck, crashing into the north tower. He called his parents and told them he would look for his aunt Rosanne, 42, a Cantor equities trader, even though she was in the other tower. “I have a plan,” he said.
The nephew and aunt shared traits. Both were strong willed and “not afraid to tell you what they thought,” said Gerard Lang, Rosanne’s brother and Brendan’s uncle.
“We were a big, tight-knit family,” he said. “We complained about too many Lang events — weddings, christenings, Communions. You didn’t have a choice but to see each other four, five times a month.”
Though Brendan never worked for Cantor, the firm placed his name next to Rosanne’s.
Daniel and Joseph Shea, Amy O’Doherty
Both managing directors, Joseph, 47, and brother Daniel, 37, have their names next to Amy O’Doherty, 23. Amy was 13 when she started baby-sitting Joseph’s children (she’s pictured with his daughter Casey). A lacrosse and ice-hockey player in high school, Amy guided the four kids in sports and eventually watched over Daniel’s brood, too.
“She handled it so effortlessly, and the kids were crazy about her,” said Nancy Shea, Joseph’s wife. “She was indispensable to our family.”
Amy wowed Cantor during a college internship, and the firm snapped her up in 2000 when she graduated.
Stephen Hoffman and Robert Jordan
Bond traders Hoffman (left), 36, and Jordan, 34, became best buddies after meeting at the University of California, Berkeley. The athletic duo surfed, played golf and attended tennis tournaments.
Their respective wives, Gabrielle and Elizabeth, were both teachers, so the couples grew close. The Jordans joined the Hoffmans — and Stephen’s 12 siblings — for weekends of boogie boarding and family barbecues on the Jersey Shore.
“That’s the way those guys lived,” said Stephen’s twin brother, Greg. “And in the end, that’s the way they died — together.”
Stephen and Mark Colaio
Mark (right), 34, a senior managing director, recruited his bond-broker brother, Stephen, 32. A regular group of 25 employees gathered often at Mark’s Manhattan apartment for parties, and at his Montauk summer house for boating, fishing, watching sunsets on the beach.
“They spent a lot of time outside work and shared a lot of special times,” said their sister, Jean. “Mark and I threw a surprise birthday party for Stephen, and all those people came. They really looked out for each other — while working, as friends, and, I’m sure, on that day.”
Mark also brought his brother-in-law, Thomas Pedicini, 30, into the firm’s equity department. Their names are close as well.
Bill “Scoop” Esposito
“Everybody knew everybody. There were friends of friends of friends,” Esposito’s daughter, Susan, said of the Cantor family. “He loved it.”
Bonds were forged during the 1993 WTC bombing. In that attack, Esposito, 52, a Cantor partner, and bond broker Peter Milano, 43, had led a pregnant woman to safety amid falling shards of glass. It took more than two hours to get down from the top of the tower. “When they got to the bottom floor, glass was falling. He pushed Peter out of the way and saved his life,” Susan recalled.
Esposito also thought the world of senior VP Thomas Strada, 41, whose wife gave birth five days before 9/11. Esposito brought him a baby gift on Sept. 10.