By By Eric Adelson

Tuesday, September 17, 2002

Virginia Fogarty walked slowly toward her son's coffin. There lay Bryan, her youngest. The tie -- the one she had picked out for him -- fit snugly around his massive neck. Big fella, she thought. A big fella from the day he was born. She was still numb. When the funeral director offered Mrs. Fogarty an hour with her son, alone, she simply nodded. Tom, her husband and Bryan's father, stayed outside the parlor, too emotional to approach. He waited with dozens of people -- teachers, neighbors, fr ...

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