With Tommy Knox it was often the little things. The way he put toothpaste on his wife's toothbrush when he got up before her, almost every day. He'd leave it on the vanity ready for her before he left his home in Hoboken for his job as a broker at Cantor Fitzgerald.

Or perhaps it was how he made the oldest gag in the book funny again. At weddings, parties, any place, really, he slapped in a set of grotesque false teeth and worked the room in his gregarious, antic style, which never failed to make everyone laugh.

The youngest of six children, Mr. Knox, who was 31, was always the first to grab the attention of his siblings' 11 children at family get-togethers with a joke or some routine to keep them laughing.

Or maybe it was the way he listened — attentive, alert, compassionate.

"I guess it was all the little things," said his wife, Nancy Knox. "All these little, special things that made Tommy who he was and made us all love him."

   9/11: The Reckoning