Larger Than Life (or Death)
There is no single great story about Jeremy Carrington, 34, a man universally known as Caz. Instead there are hundreds of them, left like glittering stones along his trail.
"He did not waste a moment of his life, and he enjoyed everything about it," said his wife, Patricia Rosch Carrington, trying to sum it all up.
While they were dating, he decided to pour his considerable energy into her family's backyard football game, and ended up breaking her father's nose. When he proposed to her last year, he roped her boss into the conspiracy and popped the question in the Sistine Chapel.
A British-born swaps trader for Cantor Fitzgerald, Mr. Carrington hosted a BBC program, "Manhattan on the Beach," in which he documented the daily activities of English people summering in the Hamptons. He charmed the conductor on his subway with the greeting, "Thank you, sir, for saving my seat."
One night in early September, he hailed a cab with a group of colleagues. When the driver refused to take all five of them, Mr. Carrington asked him to open the trunk so they could put their briefcases in it. The other four people settled into the cab. A few hundred yards up the street, the driver asked what that banging noise was, coming from the back.
"Oh, it's a Cazo," they answered. The driver pulled over, popped the trunk and discovered Mr. Carrington sitting cross- legged inside it, surrounded by the briefcases, waving his long arms and calling, "Helllooooo."
"A lot of people say that so many of these men and women were larger than life," Mrs. Carrington said. "I quite frankly think this man was larger than death."
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on October 30, 2001.