A. Todd Rancke '81 of Summit, N.J., worked for Sandler O'Neill & Partners. He was a member of Phi Delta Theta fraternity. He is survived by his wife, Deborah; his daughters, Christina and Brittany; his son, Todd; two sisters, Pamela Rancke Schroeder B.S.N. '75 and Cynthia Rancke Biennmann B.S.N. '78; and a nephew, Steve B. Schroeder '00.

A memorial fund has been established in Todd's name: The A. Todd Rancke Memorial Fund, Hilltop Community Bank, P. O. Box 800, Summit, N.J., 07902-0800.

Todd's sister, Pamela Rancke Schroeder '75, shared these thoughts:Duke was so special to Todd. He was married in the Duke Chapel. Our family was there for that, and to have had a wedding down there was special. His in-laws live outside of Durham, about a half an hour out, so he was able to come back to Duke quite often, and go to Chapel.

My son (Steve Schroeder '00) was at Duke, and he would come see him play baseball, bring his children to the game. We have some beautiful pictures of the family in Duke Gardens. His one son still wears a Duke T-shirt all the time. I have a son at Georgetown, and I said, Todd, I have to get you a Georgetown T-shirt. He said no.

They were able to be around Duke quite a lot. It was like a home, and the kids all think they're going to Duke. His brother-in-law went to Carolina, and Todd was ruthless on him. We would all watch the game together, but whoever was winning or losing really took a beating.

Duke was a special place. He had a lot of great memories. He did meet Debbie there-she did not go to Duke, she went to another school in Carolina. Then they met seven years later on a business trip; they were both up in Canada and saw each other again. The wedding was beautiful.

It was always a special place, to have a wedding there, and to go back and go to Easter Sundays there, and I think Todd was lucky that his in-laws lived there, he could just go back and walk around and share with his kids and go to Chapel and go to baseball games. For his children to run on the quad with their cousin-it's just such a special place.

Debbie just told me that somebody is getting her tickets to a Duke basketball game (in New York) with the children. The kids were all telling me that they're going to a Duke basketball game. He used to take them to that game. He was a big fan.

We just framed the little card that they did for the service on Founders Day. Debbie has the diploma and the picture of the Chapel. We're just going to have to figure out how to keep his memory alive through all of these things.

The outpouring-we've had calls from people from Duke from all over the country that saw his name and called us and wrote us. It's touched a lot of people. It's really touched the Duke community.

It just breaks your heart to see these young girls and these young children. It's really devastated these young families. Debbie is really overwhelmed, Todd used to do so much. they'll miss him a lot, and so we just have to keep it alive for them. Little Todd spent the night Friday and Saturday night at my house-I have four boys and he loves to be with them.

We're lucky, we're all right here (in Summit and nearby). I lived down the street from Todd-the children can come and walk right by my house on the way to school. And the communities have been wonderful.

It's been hard for me to go out because I see people for the first time and they have a very difficult time when they first see me. My husband says, Pam, you have to let them reach out to you.

Still, when I see things on TV, I still will sit there and the tears just come. It's going to take us a very long time to realize that they're truly gone. They're young, and he was just so full of life, and with his children. it just breaks your heart to see those children. It's just sad how their lives have changed so quickly. They'll be okay-hopefully they'll be okay. They would ride bikes with him, he could take them everywhere, he'd bring them to the football games, he'd bring them anywhere with them on his back, he coached the basketball, he coached the soccer. he was really a hands-on father.

Little Todd, when something comes up, I can see him wipe at his eye, and I think he's afraid a tear might come and he can't go there. We're surrounding them. Debbie, she doesn't think she can do it but I've told her, you can do this. Eventually, I hope she'll go back to Duke. In her own time, that might be a special place for her to wander and feel close to Todd. She'll be able one day to go to the Gardens or the Chapel and feel close to him. Just walk the Quad. And I think her children will too. Because Duke was such a part of him. It will remind them of him. And we'll just have to tell them how crazy he was at Duke. He was an awesome dancer. he still was, and he would be at a party and those Duke songs would come on.

My son Steve went back for Homecoming, played in the alumni baseball game. He couldn't believe all the people who came up to him and talked to him, all over the campus. It was heartwarming to him to see the reaching out.

It's fun to talk about him. Two weeks before he died, we had my sister's 50th, and he did a toast. We have it on video, though I haven't been able to watch it yet. And we had an engagement party the next weekend, so we had two big get-togethers. Todd was full of life. And he danced. We teased him about that, because our husbands can't dance. His sisters loved to dance with him.

I'm glad for his wife and his children that their grandparents live down there. They'll be able to go there again and walk around where they were with him and feel close to him.

The biggest thing for my parents has been the notes from people who knew him growing up, who share their stories. We're going to do scrapbooks with the letters that we've gotten, and give to the children. The family would love to hear special stories about Todd.

Rick Seidel '81 was a friend, classmate, and post-Duke roommate of Todd's. A few weeks after September 11, he sent this letter to the magazine.

The Duke community lost six alumni in the horror of September 11, and one, Todd Rancke, was a friend of mine. We spent a fair amount of time together our last two years at Duke, including our last two spring breaks. I realize hardly anyone who reads this will have known "Rancks," but we all know someone like him. Ask anyone to describe Todd, and they would immediately say "a good guy." It seems in all the memories I have of him, he's smiling and laughing.

We played a lot of basketball together. I've always believed you learn a lot about a person by playing ball with them, and Todd was a "pass first" guy who you always wanted on your side. After graduation, we both ended up in Charlottesville at U.Va. for grad school. We played ball in the city league, and briefly shared a house one year.

Then he went back to New Jersey and I went to California-we hadn't been in touch since.

Since I learned of his death yesterday, on September 30, I've struggled to come to grips with his being gone. I've learned he has three young children. I've looked through my photo albums from Duke and cried. Todd was a good guy-no hard edges, and probably could have used some. I wish I'd called.

Anyway, I somehow feel his death places a greater responsibility on me to live my life-and maybe on you, too. I now understand-really understand-that tomorrow may not come, and that what I do today needs to be done so that I have no regrets if there is no next day.

How? First, I must pursue the career, the activities, and the people that evoke passion in me. It is so easy to fall into a career, for example, that is comfortable, or begets comforts, yet is uninspiring. I was trained to achieve, to succeed, and the process of getting there was of secondary importance. September 11 and Todd's death make that not good enough any more.

Second, I need to do more to nurture my relationships, because I know more than ever that it's the people in my life that make it special. Todd was one of those people, but we both let things fade as we pursued career and family on opposite sides of the country. I wish I'd called.

The final realization I have is the need to make sure I'm giving something back to others. Todd gave me a lot-he was upbeat, enthusiastic, and nonjudgmental. That he should be taken away, that someone so positive should disappear for no good reason, leaves me grasping for a way to fill the void. As I look now at my two-year-old son, so excited by each day, so constantly curious, I'm reminded to do more for those around me. I have no illusions about changing the world, but rather the need to make sure I'm doing my part to make it better.

The Duke community lost a good guy on September 11. His name was Todd Rancke, and he was my friend. I wish I'd called.