Shortly after terror struck America on Sept. 11, my phone rang. "My name is John Salerno, and I'm a trucker and my son, John S. Salerno Jr., worked on the 104th floor of the World Trade Center for Cantor Fitzgerald," said a voice somewhere between anger and weeping.

Cantor Fitzgerald, a bond trading firm, lost hundreds of employees on that morning, including John Salvatore Salerno Jr. His nickname, "Pepe," described his enormous, lifelong energy and drive, said John Sr., who mourns not only for his son, "but for all those young people who were so capable and doing so many wonderful things.

"He truly enjoyed life. The love he always displayed for his family and his respect for the values of mankind made him the man he was. He always gave of himself, whether in the home, at work or on the playing field," he said. "Captain Jack," as John Sr. is known, says he was under load to the West Coast when news of the attacks came over the radio. By the time the owner-operator from Tampa, Fla., got to a truckstop, the towers had toppled and so had his life.

"I didn't know what to do. I started to just drop the trailer right there and head for New York immediately. But I knew they'd never let me near the crash site.

"I talked with my family and finally decided to deliver my load and then come to New York," Captain Jack said.

He made his delivery in Los Angeles, left his truck at the local SelecTrucks dealership and caught a plane to New York. A memorial service was held for his son on Sunday, Sept. 23, in Westbury, N.Y., on Long Island where Pepe grew up. Nearly 1,000 people attended, Captain Jack said.

Salerno was born on Sept. 6, 1970, which was also his dad's birthday. Pepe was a star lacrosse player in high school, good enough to win a scholarship to St. John's University, from which he graduated in 1992. He had worked at Cantor Fitzgerald for about five years, including stints in Japan and London.

"The image forever etched in my heart and soul was the last time I was with Pepe," John Sr. wrote in an e-mail sent after we had talked several times. "It was spring 2001 at the World Trade Center. He had just passed his Series 7 test, necessary for his new position at Cantor Fitzgerald. On the way home to New Jersey, he told me of what the future held, in-between his call to his wife, Danielle, to say he loved her and would be home soon," he wrote.

"My heart was bursting with pride. When we arrived he chatted for a brief while, he embraced his beautiful Danielle and then proceeded to stuff me into his leather jacket, gloves and helmet to take a ride on his Harley. He said to me, 'Be careful, Dad, you are more important to me than any motorcycle.'

"I beamed with pride again, because that Harley was a dream come true for him," John Sr. continued. "I took off and he changed into sweats and proceeded to a playing field where he was coaching a 12-year-olds lacrosse team.

"Standing on that field, I have never been prouder of my son," Captain Jack wrote. "He and Danielle still made time to take the Old Man out for dinner with some friends. That's how I would like my son to be remembered!"

Captain Jack isn't sure where the road will take him now. He thinks he'll turn his rig into a memorial to his son, to all those who lost their lives that day. He wants to turn this tragedy somehow into something positive, because that's what his son would have done.

In those terrible hours on the road, Captain Jack stopped at truckstops and joined others watching the endless replay of tragedy. Sometimes it had to come out that his son was among the missing in there, somewhere. "Man, what are you doing here?" was the natural question when this happened.

"I felt I was honoring him by keeping America moving," he says. "I felt this is what he would have wanted me to do."