Davin Peterson

Davin Peterson
World Trade Center

Davin was easy to describe and even easier to notice – 6'6", light brown hair, beautiful blue eyes, size 16 shoe. He didn't just enter a room. He consumed it.

However, it was not just his stature that filled the room, but the breadth and depth of his heart, soul, and mind. Davin's greatest gift in life was his ability to see truly, hear honestly, and speak kindly. He was an old soul...wise beyond his years and extremely perceptive.

Davin reveled in e-mailing and Instant Messaging loving jabs to his mom.

Davin prided himself on being one of the first to arrive and one of the last to leave work.

Davin delighted in making his sister's birthday unforgettable year after year.

Davin loved to tease his brother mercilessly about everything and anything.

Davin devoured The Economist as soon as it arrived in his mailbox.

Davin danced a little jig when he thought he'd outsmarted you.

Davin adored indulging his girlfriend.

Davin created strong relationships with friends all over the world.

And though he was the oldest of four children, he was our baby. Someone so loving, so dedicated to the people in his life, so tolerant was too soon stolen from us. And we are left to survive with such a sense of awe and appreciation that we were lucky enough to have him at all.

We dedicate our lives to his memory, his love, and his life.
Tribute submitted by Davin's family.


A Gentle Giant


It felt natural to look up to Davin Peterson: he was 6 feet 6 inches tall. But he was also comfortable as a leader and mediator of the four Peterson kids, his mother's stalwart and confidant when the family was cracked by divorce. He was calming, clear-headed, an old soul since childhood, but possessed of an exquisite sensitivity: when one sister was going through a rough time, he wept about it openly at work.

At 25, he was a trader at Cantor Fitzgerald, although notions of his future were still forming. His travel lust had taken him to Vietnam, China, Scandinavia.

With a deep interest in human rights, politics and economics, he considered starting a business in an impoverished country.

Mr. Peterson was also possessed of an antic sense of humor. He cooked anti- Thanksgiving meals ‹ one year, fajitas, another year, steak.

He had an elaborate scheme for the secession of his native California, featuring himself as the head of a military coup. And he vowed to leave his life insurance to Rambo, his mother's beloved five-pound Yorkshire terrier.

Really?

Ah, got you!

And whenever he did, Mr. Peterson, enormously pleased with himself, would dance a little jig, a gentle giant with size 16 feet.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 23, 2001.




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