From 9/11 daughter to her own woman

But she did not mention 9/11 to anyone, not immediately. When she slipped off a week later to attend a commemorative service at the State House and Public Garden, she simply said she was going to a family event in Boston.

At Bishop Guertin High School in Nashua, Ogonowski had no choice but to "wear 9/11 as a cloak around her shoulders," as her mother, Peg, put it. She was a freshman in her second week at an unfamiliar school, just trying to fit in, when terrorists hijacked the Boeing 767 piloted by her father, John, and crashed it into the World Trade Center.

After that, she was the girl whose dad died on Sept. 11. People stepped lightly around her.

"Before I got to know people, they had this preconceived idea of who I am, knowing something deeply personal about my life," said Ogonowski, recalling high school as she prepares to graduate today from BC, which afforded her a fresh start. "It's a very self-conscious feeling for a while."

Boston College gave her the opportunity to become known as Caroline the English major, Caroline the volunteer, Caroline the yearbook photographer, the good listener, the roommate who organizes group outings and impromptu dance parties. Comfortable on campus, she will stay at BC for two more years to pursue a master's in counseling psychology, interested in working with children who have experienced trauma. Partly because she was that young girl whose father died on Sept. 11.

Nearly eight years after her father's death, Ogonowski, now 22, talks about him openly, not wanting people to forget him.

"He was an extraordinary person," she said. "He did great things."

At 50, John Ogonowski had acquired the seniority at American Airlines to fly six transcontinental round trips a month and spend the rest of the time working the land at his Dracut hay farm, where he also grew fruits and vegetables. He was the Vietnam transport pilot who, a generation later, opened his land to Southeast Asian refugees so they could make a few dollars and grow reminders of home. He was a natural and understated leader.

He was also the dad who loved to give his three daughters rides on the tractor and coached them through math homework, who pretended that February school vacation week was scheduled in honor of his birthday.

"He was always singing us little songs," said Ogonowski, a warm smile spreading across her face. "If another person met my dad, I think they'd think he was more serious and reserved, but around us he was more like a little kid."

She is more reticent talking about his death, and the year that followed. When asked, she glances away, her fingers working a bracelet, as she describes a blur of grief and family support, news cameras and prayer services. That year culminated with Ogonowski, at age 15, standing before a packed Faneuil Hall, reading the prayer Franklin Delano Roosevelt recited before the Normandy invasion.

" 'Let our hearts be stout, to wait out the long travail, to bear sorrows that may come,' " she recited.

Even after Ogonowski began to grow comfortable in high school, Sept. 11 had a way of coming up in class. Always there would be whispers, apologies, flush-faced moments, all eyes on her.

BC was about more than just a fresh start, which any college would have provided. As the daughter of an alumna, Ogonowski felt comfortable from the beginning. She relished walking down Linden Lane and studying in the quiet anonymity of Bapst Library, the Gothic hall that evokes Hogwarts, with its towering columns and vaulted ceiling.

She embraced BC's liberal-arts atmosphere, the football and hockey games, the spiritual side of the Chestnut Hill school.

The Jesuit culture of service, she said, helped her realize she wanted to become a mental-health counselor.

"When she told me that, it was just such a revelation," her mother said. "You couldn't have picked a better course of study for her."

Peg Ogonowski, who still lives on White Gate Farm in Dracut, said her middle daughter has always been a nurturer. At age 2, she wrapped her mother in a blanket when she saw her lying on the couch, feeling ill during her pregnancy with daughter Mary.

Older sister Laura called Caroline "the rock of the family," always ready to listen or comfort.

Each Sept. 11, Caroline Ogonowski left the BC campus to spend mornings at a Public Garden wreath-laying ceremony and afternoons at Fenway Park, for the American Red Cross's Day of Remembrance blood drive.

In 2006, she joined the Red Cross's regional advisory board, to help encourage college-age donors. "It's amazing the amount of things that Caroline's able to balance," said Donna Morrissey, public affairs director for American Red Cross Blood Services in New England.

Morrissey was struck by what she called Ogonowski's "ease and maturity" and recruited her to become the board's youngest member. "She really just emanates light and goodness, in a very humble way," Morrissey said.

Her college friends say the same. "I'm lucky to have her in my life," said Molly Resetarits, a four-year roommate.

They are reminded of Ogonowski's family story only occasionally, such as when they see the photo on her desk or join her at the blood drive.

"We recognize what happened on Sept. 11 when we go with her to Fenway Park, but I don't think of her as the girl whose father died," said Jen Buckbinder, a roommate since sophomore year. "I think of her as my friend."

Eric Moskowitz can be reached at emoskowitz@globe.com.