A Chill for a Twin
The friends of Dorothy and Margaret Mauro must have envied their relationship. As twins, they played the kind of tricks and had the kind of friendship that others fantasize about. When blind dates took them dancing, they switched partners mid-evening — and the men never guessed. Throughout elementary and junior high school, they sat beside each other in class. "When they separated us," said Margaret, "it was like being split in half."
"You always have a playmate, a companion," she continued. "She was somebody to talk to who understood me completely."
Eventually Margaret, 55, moved to Nashville, while Dorothy, a state tax clerk working at the World Trade Center, remained in Brooklyn. But they talked every day — after arriving at work, when they returned home, before bed. On Sept. 11, they spoke at 8:30 a.m. "about what I was planning to cook," said Margaret. "About how busy I was going to be."
After hanging up, she said, she felt a chill. "I told myself it wasn't true," she said. "But when I tried to call, the phone was dead."
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on October 15, 2001.