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Yuko Clark knew two sides to her husband, Greg. There was the carefree young man in the U.S. Navy who came to her closed snack stand in Japan, so handsome and tall that she climbed through a window to get into the locked cooking area to make him a pizza.
And there was the serious father of four, who went to work early as a computer technician at Cantor Fitzgerald and stayed there late, worried about layoffs and supporting his family.
"He just spoiled us all," said Yuko. "He let everybody walk all over him, and he'd be smiling. He just didn't mind helping people and sacrificing himself."
At home in Teaneck, N.J., Clark, 40, entertained his family after dinner by placing one hand on his rear and another on his head and singing in funny voices. He often brought his older children to his office on the 104th floor of One World Trade Center, and was the favorite playmate of his youngest daughter, Julie, 5.
An avid golfer, Clark grew up sneaking through the woods to get onto a golf course in his hometown of Haworth, N.J. Since becoming a parent, he golfed less, but still tried to foster a love of nature in his children. When the kids tired on walks, he'd pick them up--sometimes two at a time--and carry them home, his wife said.
A 37-year-old former college football player nicknamed "Crusher," Donald Delapenha is nonetheless remembered by his friends and coworkers for his gentle manner.
"In our business there are a variety of people ... but Donny was a good guy," said coworker Eric Grubelich.
Delapenha was a vice president and head bond trader for Keefe, Bruyette & Woods, a financial services firm with offices in the World Trade Center.
"He was a salt-of-the-earth guy," said Grubelich. "He was always aboveboard when he worked with people. He was personable, always a gentleman."
Added college pal Rob Fredericks, "He was the guy who would avoid trouble, though he had the size to scare a lot of people."
Fredericks recalled a spring break when the two spent 48 hours in a car driving to Florida. "You get to know one another when you spend that much time together. I can't think of, in my lifetime, anyone like Donny. He was a true friend."
Delapenha grew up in New Jersey before heading to Ohio, where he played football at Baldwin-Wallace College. He married and had three children, whose faces adorned his office walls. The latest pictures were from a vacation they had just taken to Disneyland.
Known for his sense of humor, quick wit and kindness, Delapenha made his six officemates feel comfortable, said Grubelich, the only one of the seven to survive the attacks.
"We were a close-knit team," he said. "I'll remember him most for being a decent guy."
Sept. 11 was supposed to be a day of happiness and achievement for Luke Dudek, 50, and his domestic partner of 20 years, George Cuellar. That day, after years of planning, they opened the doors of their high-end floral design shop in New Jersey.
"This was my dream and Luke wanted me to be happy," said Cuellar.
On opening day, Dudek wasn't there. He had just taken a week's vacation to get the store ready for business and was back at his job as a food and beverage controller at Windows on the World, the restaurant on the 106th floor of One World Trade Center.
Dudek loved fine things. Wooden Cuban cigar boxes fill a room of his home. He drove a black Corvette, which Cuellar parked in front of the church during Dudek's memorial service. For the millennium, he shared a bottle of 1930 port with friends.
He refurbished the house where he grew up--and still lived--to suit his taste. "He took a 1930s bungalow and transformed it into a modern sculpture," said Cuellar, who has kept their shop, Coqui Designs, open every day since Sept. 11.
He'll host the grand opening on Nov. 20, Dudek's 51st birthday.
Peter Gyulavary was his usual calm, never-flustered Australian self when his wife reached him by telephone at 8:55 a.m. Sept. 11, in his 91st floor office in the trade center's south tower.
Yes, a plane had struck the north tower, but he was fine.
"Not to worry," he assured her. "Please leave the building," she begged him. "I don't think it was an accident. I think it's a terrorist attack."
Jane Gyulavary said she'll probably never know what happened next. Gyulavary was last seen on the 78th floor with 176 others. "He may have gone back up to his office when they were told it was safe," she said. If so, he would have died instantly when the second hijacked plane struck.
Days later, she read the last entry he had made in his journal, in which he noted he was working on a big project.
"He might have been preoccupied with his project," she said. "I can't believe my husband couldn't make it out. He was the fittest man I ever met. When we were renovating our house, he carried bathtubs up and down. ... I can't believe my husband could be killed by terrorists."
Gyulavary, 44, a light rail expert with Washington Rail International, had been assigned to the World Trade Center office. Married 15 years, the couple restored a Victorian house after years of living in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, where Jane had grown up. Tired of the long commute to the city, however, the couple had recently bought a condominium in Weehawken, N.J., and Gyulavary began refurbishing another home.
"After working with his intellect all week, he loved working with his hands on weekends," his wife said.
The couple met in Australia in 1986, when Gyulavary was a graduate student. His wife, a former magazine fashion editor, had traveled to Australia nine times in 10 years to do photo shoots. The couple have a daughter, Genevieve, 13.