This post is part of Project 2,996, an attempt to honor each and every person murdered on 9/11.

Tim Finnerty was a bond trader during the workday, a member of the firm with the devastating distinction of losing more employees than any other company during the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. But by those who knew him, he is not remembered principally as a Cantor Fitzgerald employee or a trader. Instead, the relatives and friends of this Glen Rock, N.J. man remember a basketball enthusiast, a coach, a mentor, and a volunteer. Just months after Finnerty was pronounced one of 658 Cantor Fitzgerald employees killed on 9/11, his high school alma mater retired his jersey (according to a 2002 Bergen Record article):

Everyone at Queen of Peace will remember Tim Finnerty as number 30. But Tim Finnerty -- the 700th Cantor Fitzgerald employee to be listed missing or dead, the one who scored eight points in his final high school game against Bergen Catholic, the first-team BCSL-American standout, Peter's second son, and Theresa's first love -- will always be more than a number. It is the first time in the school's 70-year existence that it has retired a number and the last time it wants to have reason to do so... "He just loved the game," says his father Peter, who remembers his youngest son slurping down his Saturday morning cereal so that he could spend the entire day at the Pierpont Elementary School gym in Rutherford, just watching games.

Finnerty, 33, was survived by his wife, father, brother, and grandmother. His wife Theresa described him this way:

Mr. Finnerty, who was 33, loved to coach, too. At Wagner College in Staten Island, he was an assistant coach. "When we moved to Glen Rock, N.J., he wanted to coach seventh and eighth graders," Ms. Finnerty said. Last year, he got the chance. "St. Catherine's, my church, had a team. And those kids loved him," she said. "He was just silly and goofy. If a kid was quiet, within minutes he would have the kid laughing," Ms. Finnerty said.

Today, a memorial fund bears Finnerty's name. It's used for refurbishing parks, awarding scholarships to his college alma mater the University of Scranton, and send kids to camp, according to The Bergen Record. The first project it funded was the renovation of the basketball courts at the neighborhood park where he played basketball as a child. Finnerty was at his cousin's wedding just three days before he died, dancing with family and toasting to happiness. Sometimes it's hard to fathom almost 3,000 souls wiped from the Earth on one bright morning. It's hard to feel the immensity of the loss to our country, eight years later; hard to honor so many we did not know and will never have the opportunity to meet. The image of Finnerty doing "The Sprinkler" (as his wife recounted to the NYT) on the dance floor at his cousin's wedding on Saturday, Sept. 8, 2001 is a reminder that every single one of them had a story, a family, and a future from which they were ripped that morning by an enemy who conspired to kill them, no matter how good, beloved, and innocent they were. May Timothy J. Finnerty rest in peace. May his family and friends live secure in the notion that he's teaching the angels to shoot a nice jumper. And, may we always strive to remember him and the 2,995 other victims of 9/11 as more than just names on a list.