William J. Martin Jr.

Big Brother to All
After illness took both their parents, Laura and Billy Martin had only each other. And for the six years that they lived together in a Hoboken, N.J., apartment, that was enough.

William J. Martin Jr., 35, was Laura's big brother, but she said he was "duty bound" to take the place of their father. Any boyfriend she brought home had to pass muster with Billy, and he wasn't afraid to tell them not to come back if he thought they were wrong for her.

Part of that sense of responsibility came from his Navy years, and part from working at a big Wall Street firm, Cantor Fitzgerald. But his concern for others was genuine. After just a year of marriage, he agreed to take in his wife Debbie's 90-year-old grandmother to live with them in Denville, N.J.

"He could never do enough for family or friends," Ms. Martin said. On game days, those friends counted on Billy to show up at Giants Stadium hours early with steaks, fresh mozzarella from Hoboken and plenty of beer. The same group tailgated again this season and presented Ms. Martin with a banner for her husband's Jeep. It said:

Billy Martin: A True Giant.


Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 6, 2001.


William Martin, 35, the life of the party William Martin not only was the life of the party, he threw the party.

"He would throw parties at his house in high school when his dad was away playing bridge," recalled John Wallace, who grew up with Mr. Martin in Upper Saddle River. "A half hour before his dad returned, he would tell everyone it was time to leave, he had to clean up the house."

"He was the life of the party in any situation," said Laura Davis of Morris Township, Mr. Martin's sister. "He could be at a funeral and make it better. We need him around right now to get through this."

Mr. Martin, 35, died Sept. 11 in the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. He was a foreign currency trader for Cantor Fitzgerald. A native of Brooklyn, N.Y., he was a graduate of Don Bosco High School in Ramsey, and a 1993 summa cum laude graduate of Seton Hall University. He and his wife, Deborah, lived in Denville.

"He pretty much raised me," said Laura Davis, whose parents passed away when she and her brother were young. "He gave me away at my wedding. He was an amazing uncle to my daughter."

An avid golfer, Mr. Martin never admitted to scoring higher than 100; when he did, the score was always "99."

Gary Davenport, who formerly worked with Mr. Martin at Lasser Marshall, a brokerage firm, recalled his friend trying to join in with some cheerleaders in the Myrtle Beach, S.C., airport after a spring golf vacation.

"While they were doing back flips, he was doing sort of like forward rolls in the airport lounge," Davenport said.

Mr. Martin sometimes mangled expressions, such as "six of one, half dozen of the other," which usually came out as "six and a half of one, a dozen of the other."

Friends are compiling a book of their favorite "Billyisms" that will be given to Deborah Martin at a 1 p.m. service tomorrow at Church of the Assumption in Morristown. The book's two working titles: "Six and a Half of One, a Dozen of the Other," and "How to Break 100 Every Time."

A huge Giants fan, Mr. Martin never missed a home game. His tailgate parties at Giants Stadium -- in sections 6A or 6B -- were legendary, with steak, chicken and steamers among the offerings.

"You always knew Bill was there," Wallace said. "He was very extroverted and lively. A real presence in anyone's life. It's hard to believe that light went out."