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Joanne Cregan had been planning a return to Dublin after nearly a decade in New York when she was killed in the 9/11 attacks. Her death at 32 left a Dublin family grappling with loss, unresolved questions and the slow work of remembrance.
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Born and raised in Churchtown, south Dublin, Joanne was the eldest of Mary and Ronnie Cregan’s three children. After school she trained as a secretary and worked in banking in Dublin before moving first to London and then to New York, where she built a career as a trusted assistant to traders at firms including Lehman Brothers and Cantor Fitzgerald.

Friends and family remember her as outgoing and generous. She and her sister Grace bought apartments in the same Brooklyn block, two floors apart, and Joanne often spoke about a possible move back to Dublin. Mary recalls they had looked at properties across the southside, particularly in Ballsbridge and Milltown.
The morning that changed everything
On 11 September 2001 Joanne was at work in the World Trade Center when two hijacked aircraft struck the towers. Grace managed to escape from the South Tower and later reunited with the family; Joanne was on the 105th floor of the North Tower when the impact occurred.
The force of the attack and the resulting fires meant that Joanne’s body was never recovered intact. Over the following years the family received human remains and personal items on a number of occasions as investigators continued their recovery efforts at Ground Zero.
Grief, paperwork and the search for meaning
The Cregans stayed in Joanne’s Brooklyn flat in the immediate aftermath, using it as a base while making calls to hospitals and searching for news. A memorial Mass in Brooklyn preceded a service back home in Ireland.

Mary later described the difficulty of receiving official paperwork. One document listed the cause of death as manslaughter, a phrase that compounded the family’s pain. She found some consolation in the idea of forgiveness after hearing the peace campaigner Gordon Wilson speak about letting go to survive grief.
Small discoveries, lasting traces
Recovery work at the World Trade Center site continued for years. The family received fragments of jewellery and other personal effects; among the items was a Tiffany Bean necklace and a ring. The necklace was later donated to the 9/11 Tribute Museum, the family says, as part of the broader effort to preserve the memory of those lost.
Ron, Joanne’s brother, recalls how hope persisted in the early days — the idea that she might have been in a hospital with memory loss, for example — before the grim reality settled in. He travelled home to Ireland and then back to New York with their parents during those first chaotic weeks.
Aftermath and memory in the family
Grace eventually returned to the United States, married and now lives upstate with three children. Ron says she continues to carry the emotional weight of that day.
Joanne’s father, Ronnie Cregan, who had been prominent in the Irish commercial property industry, died shortly before Christmas 2019. The family credits faith, friendships and determination with helping them cope over the following years, though the wound remains.
Why the story still matters
Joanne was one of 2,996 people killed in the 9/11 attacks in 2001 and one of just seven people born in Ireland who lost their lives that day. For the Cregans, the loss is both intensely personal and part of a global event that reshaped families and nations.
Two decades on, the family reflects on what might have been: a career cut short, plans to return home, and the ordinary moments that were lost. They say they take some comfort from memories of a life well lived, even as the ache endures.











