Relatives: Last phone call was a happy one
Old Bridge man was 34 when he was killed on Sept. 11, 2001
BY MARLENE CANTY
Staff Writer

JEFF GRANIT staff Barbara Ludwicki, of Brooklyn, hugs her niece, Gabriella Romero, 10, prior to Old Bridge's 9/11 ceremony Monday morning at the township's 9/11 memorial.

It was 8:46 am. Elvin Romero, in his office at the World Trade Center, was speaking to his wife, Diane, at home in Old Bridge.

"He was speaking on the phone to her and then suddenly there was a loud cracking noise and an unpleasant high-pitched sound like the whole phone line was whining and then nothing," said Debbie Sammut, describing the last conversation her sister Diane had with her husband.

It was Sept. 11, 2001.

Elvin, who was 34, had called to ask about his 5-year-old daughter, Gabriella, who had started school a couple of days earlier.

"He knew she was apprehensive about starting kindergarten and he called just to ask how his little princess was doing. He always called her that," Debbie said.

When Diane heard the horrible sound, she called Elvin back on his cell phone, and when she couldn't get around the sound, she called him again on his office line. Elvin's office was Cantor Fitzgerald, where he worked as vice president of international equities, on the 94th floor of the North Tower.

Below, Diane Romero, of Old Bridge, with daughter Gabriella, 10, and son Alexander, 7, attend the township's ceremony marking the fifth anniversary of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks Monday morning outside the municipal complex. Diane's husband and the children's father, Elvin, above, who was vice president of international equities at Cantor Fitzgerald, was killed in the terrorist attacks on the twin towers.

As she tried to dial Elvin back in another corner of the room, her 2-year-old son Alexander was having breakfast, playing with toys or watching cartoons.

Soon after, as Debbie, a nurse at Long Island College Hospital, was doing her morning report she saw a report over the news that a small plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Minutes later another of her four sisters, Theresa, called to say that she was sure the building hit in the "accident" was the one where Elvin worked. The sisters all called one another and then made the decision to try to reach Diane.

JEFF GRANIT staff

"By then she knew," Debbie said. "The neighbors were there with her and she was crying when we reached her."

Within minutes, it was also clear to everyone that this was no accident.

The South Tower was hit, and soon after the Pentagon.

Debbie who works close to downtown Brooklyn says a bulletin came from the administrator of her hospital that the city was being attacked.

"People were coming in off the street because of the smoke," she said, "asking for respirator masks because of the amount of ash that was falling."

The hospital's main building is just across the water from Manhattan's skyline.

Debbie was not stationed there that day or she would have seen the collapse of the twin towers firsthand rather than on TV.

Debbie said her family, from different parts of the city, began trying to get to New Jersey to be with Diane. The family called every emergency room they could reach over the next 24 hours trying to find out if there was a record of Elvin being found or rescued.

All they knew was that he had been several floors above where the plane had hit the North Tower.

In retrospect, it is now known that Cantor Fitzgerald lost more than 600 employees that day, more than any other company in the towers.

Debbie said that DNA was used to make a positive identification of part of Elvin's remains a year later.

According to her sister, Diane had a second memorial for Elvin at that time.

"For our family, the place that Elvin held is never filled. I think Diane has to deal with this the rest of her life, and I know at times it is extremely difficult not to dwell on the horror of what happened," Debbie said.

"But my sister is an heroic woman who has no choice but to choose to live and to find ways to cope through the support of wonderful friends, neighbors and family," she said.

Today, five years later, Debbie said her sister strives to fulfill what she and Elvin had planned to be their lives together and their dreams for their children.

She feels that it is fitting that their last conversation was about one of their children.

"When Diane told him Gabriella was feeling happy about school that day, he was happy too," Debbie said. "One of the last things he said before the interruption was that he felt it was going to be a wonderful day."