When Lupo was younger he worked for Cantor Fitzgerald in the World Trade Center. He was there when the bomb was detonated in 1993 and retired from Cantor in April 2001 just months before the attacks on the WTC. Every person he worked with at Cantor died that day. In the months following he went to over 100 funerals of friends and colleagues. Not long after, his liver started failing. He was able to get a transplant, but getting the transplant cost him, literally.
I liken him to an ancient biblical character named Job. Job was super wealthy and didn’t really want for anything in life. Then one day, Job lost everything. The end of Job’s story is that he died a richer man than he was before he lost everything. Not so for Tony.
He once told me that if he had money, he would give it to me, for the kids, but all he had now was time. So, I asked him for his time. We would drive out to Brooklyn together, go to lunch together, he would come by my office just to talk about S2S and the kids and everything else under the sun.
In all the time we spent together, I cannot remember once when he was ever bitter, angry or depressed about how much he had lost. Instead, he would say, “Woodstah”, that’s what he always called me, “since I should have died 3 times already, every day that I’m alive, is a gift.”