9/11 Readers Theatre, Fall 2012

I remember going to school

just like any other day in 4^th grade.

I remember our teacher

with her chestnut colored hair tied

in a pony tail, swaying

back and forth as she wrote on the board.

The intercom made crackling noises

announcing that the airplane crashed in N.Y.

I remember watching my teacher�s blue eyes widen

and her white board marker dropping to the floor.

She told us not to worry,

as she ran over to the classroom phone.

�Mike, call Anne and Kris. I don�t know

their numbers and I don�t remember where

their work is in that city. Mike, please, I�ll have a lot

to deal with all these kids; just check on

my aunt and her husband.�

I remember Ms. Goularte trying to take

deep breaths and calmly explain to

the class what was going on. I didn�t know any of it.

I remember going throughout the rest of the day

trying to think of any family I had in

that may be in N. Y.;

I found none.

I remember feeling relieved,

with the weight of the world not yet weighing

me down, till I reached home

and saw the plane crash into the tall buildings,

repeatedly, over and over again, on every news channel

my parents flipped through.

Kc

It was a blank sunny Tuesday, and the

California sky was clear and perfect.

Dad sipped coffee and I remember I had Cheerios—

how is it that we always remember

the most meaningless details of these traumatic events?

I may have also been wearing a black T-shirt.

We didn�t realize something had

happened until we both got to school—he

as a teacher, I as a student,

and we went our separate ways until lunchtime.

Then my friends approached me, questioning,

worry and fear in their eyes.

�Did you hear what happened?� �Did you?�

In nearly every class the teachers

turned on the live news coverage because

no one could stop thinking about it

or talking about it

And the teachers soon realized that their lesson

plans were meaningless.

In French II, a girl�s cousin had been on

one of the planes. (I learned that later).

In Chemistry, we watched in collective

silence as the TV screen showed image upon

image of the dark-haired men and boys half a world away jumping

up and down, leaping and chanting nonsense

sounds at us with flags in their fists and

hatred in their eyes.

Fear in our hearts and tensions running high.

Later I met my dad in his classroom and

he told me how the jewelry class teacher

first told him about it. Dad exclaimed,

�You�re shitting me!�

�I�m not shitting you!� Mr. Dwyer replied.

Apparently this is how teachers converse

when not in the presence of their students.

Hours followed after the towers fell

and we had all seen our share of the

repeated footage:

The jets cleaving the air to stab at

the beams, the glass and metal casements,

The ashen clouds billowing through

the streets,

And the people throwing themselves out

of the windows looking like black ragdolls.

Michelle

I am confused

What does this mean? What will it mean?

So many people running and screaming,

so much smoke

My mom is doing my hair before she

takes me to school

How is everyone else reacting?

We are sitting in our classroom,

waiting for our teacher to come.

He enters, face set in a harsh scowl.

He is angry, the most American man

I�ve ever met and he is furious.

This is really serious.

Our principal goes on the P.A.

system to tell us that we needn�t worry;

we are safe in this school.

Everyone has a blank look on their faces.

I can�t read their thoughts

Are they just as confused as me?

but the principal hardly

uses the P.A. system and today he did.

My teacher is never this quiet or

angry and today he is.

I never knew how much those tall buildings

meant to this country.

But I did know that each of those people

meant a great deal to someone.

The airplanes and those inside as

well� and the Pentagon

So many faces and souls�

Gone, but never forgotten.

Evelyn

seeing those people on TV so scared

and their faces, I can�t even put

into words what the looks on their faces

were trying to say.

I was sitting in the living room

my hand over my stomach,

pregnant with my first child. The first

thing that crossed my mind was

�Will I ever meet him, will I ever

know what it is to be a mother?�

Only God knew the answer

only he knew all the answers to what

had happened.

Why? How? Was this for real?

We�re supposed to live in the most

safe and perfect country.

Why did I have to be part of this country?

I thought about the people in the planes

in the towers

you just never know what could happen

None of them or us knew that September 11^th

would be a date never forgotten and always remembered.

Johana

Everybody stares at the TV. Silence.

Breakfast gets cold. Well, not my cereal.

Fire. Smoke. People screaming. Chaos. Sirens.

It�s like an action movie, but I know it�s real.

It�s a lot scarier than any movie I�ve ever seen.

But I knew anytime someone messed with America

Rambo would take care of them.

Why can�t Rambo kill the bad guys and save the

people in trouble, like he does in the movies?

Devon

I�ve been here less than a year and already I hate it.

A huge thing happened and lots of people died and Muslims

are getting blamed. We didn�t do it. Well, I didn�t. I�m only 10.

I was at school when it happened. I am sad though. I am

sorry for all the people that lost their lives. My whole family

is sorry, but we didn�t do it. That thing my mom has on her

head isn�t a rag; it�s a scarf. Don�t call her a terrorist. She

is a nice person if you know her. Wait, do you

even know what Islam means? I bet you don�t.

I decided I will wear my scarf too, just like my mom. This way

my friends can see I�m still the same person. I hate the people

who give Muslims a bad name.

Amina

I come home happy to see

my family.

It�s early.

I surprise them. They wake and make my favorite

strawberry waffles.

We share smiles as I share my training.

She screams and I don�t know why.

The Pentagon, the Twins, the fields.

Smoke, everywhere. We watch

Quietly a second plane hits and

It

collapses.

We collapse

as it falls.

People collapse and fall

I

fall into her arms and

collapse, welcoming kisses turn

into tormented goodbyes.

How am I supposed to save those that collapsed, when I

too am falling?

Jazmin

The TV was on when I woke up

The TV was never on when I woke up

Right away I saw images of burning

buildings and rubble

My mom was sitting on the couch

in disbelief

I looked from the TV, to her, and back

The Twin Towers� was all she said

Counselors came into class that day

They told us to write about how we

feel

I felt confused, I was thirteen

Suzanne cried; she had family in

New York

Words like Terrorism, Al Qaeda, Iraq,

and war were everywhere

San Francisco is next

Classmates began talking of war and

the Draft

My mind jumped to my two older brothers

They won�t go

will they?

No, don�t think about that

Images of the planes flying into the

Towers

The Towers falling to the ground

People screaming, crying, running

Replayed over and over

for weeks

Ground Zero

Cory

Those tiny figures free fall

Into certain death

The last free choice they�ll ever make.

My choice: to watch the screen

Or turn away.

The teachers, my parents�

They don�t know what to say.

They can�t explain or fathom

Just like me.

We all sit in silence

Wondering why.

Onette

7^th grade.

Confused. I didn�t really understand.

The TV was on in the living room and I ate my

breakfast. Nobody said a word that morning

and I just figured it was because it was the

morning.

My mind jumps to sitting in class.

Social Studies.

That�s where I got the explanation of what really

happened.

The TV was on there too.

All class. It didn�t stop. Not once.

The teacher was talking but I didn�t hear her,

my eyes, my mind, my ears stuck on the

TV like super glue on your fingers.

Now I got it. Now I understood.

Ashley

We sit at the stoplight

one more right turn

and I will be at school in the classroom

with the 6^th graders

who I still am not friends with.

The radio announcer keeps repeating

�Planes have flown into the Twin Towers.�

Mom is silent.

I don�t understand.

Kids at school are talking about it.

I don�t understand.

I feel alone.

I wonder if those people on the planes felt alone.

Courtney

Planes crashing into buildings.

On my TV screen.

It didn�t touch me.

It didn�t touch me because it was

like a movie.

Classes were interrupted

for an assembly.

�We gather here because of the

tragic event that has occurred�

It was a tragedy.

Like those written in my textbooks

Like those that were so far from me.

The tragedy across country

didn�t touch me.

Couldn�t touch me

In my history class, Mrs. Reynolds

Pauses and her eyes glisten,

moist all of a sudden

I didn�t know where it came from

the lecture hangs in mid-air.

�Excuse me, I�m sorry.�

She�s sorry for the tears in her eyes.

I became sad-faced because no one should ever

apologize for crying.

�What�s wrong?� someone asks.

Another pause.

�My cousin works in that building.�

And only then did it happen.

Only then did it touch me.

Olivia

Panic, terrorism, attack.

I remember this day because my mom came

and got my brother and me out of school,

said we had to say good bye to Daddy.

He�d be leaving soon.

We went home, and mostly just waited

for the call�

And Daddy was at war days before they

declared it on the news.

The first few years were the easiest,

people supported the troops, flew flags,

were all proud to be Americans.

Then the attitudes changed, all

of a sudden nobody cared about the

troops anymore, they were blamed for

the failing economy, and no flags

flew at half mast anymore.

America had recovered while our

men were still at war, and there

were still children growing up

without fathers and sons and sisters.

On August 27, 2006, I turned 16.

It was the day my father died.

My mother buried her pain

and didn�t tell me that day.

I think she wanted to spare me one

last Happy Birthday.

My father died fighting a way

everyone else has forgotten about.

Now my brother has picked up

where Dad left off

to fight a war nobody cares

about anymore.

Second generation West Point cadet.

Power and prestige.

God bless America.

Cheri

Sitting through class after class – Zero to Seven

We watched the horrors on TV

We were told to talk, say what you want

but no one�s words seemed to make sense.

We were so far removed,

and so full of ourselves, it seemed a world away.

We tried putting ourselves in their shoes,

and mourned for the many not returning home

to their wives, husbands, children, mothers, fathers,

brothers and sisters.

The choir teacher made us sing

Patriotic songs, some of us cried our way through.

It seemed so senseless, and the news

was only confusing us more

As details were released, we began to

understand, and mourn for more.

We were so far removed, and so full

of ourselves�

It seemed a world away�

We were only 16�

Alicia

�Mr. President,� he said, �there has been an �attack,��

and I just keep reading this picture book

and pretend that I�m interested in being here

when I�d rather be wrapped up in bed,

like a burrito. �A George Bush burrito, heh heh.�

What do you suppose I should do, Daddy?

What should I do, Cheney?

What should I do, Mr. Wiggles?

Mr. Wiggles is my teddy bear,

sitting all alone in my bed,

without me to keep him company!

But that�s no good; I can�t do that.

I�m the President of the United States.

And people are looking to me for leadership.

And I ask myself: �What would Mr. Wiggles do?�

And then it hits me, like a Rock-�em Sick-�em robot,

Mr. Wiggles would kick some terrorist ass.

�Look out, terrorizers. Mr. Wiggles is comin�.�

Jon

So sleepy. Why did I wake up?

A call. From Karen -- in New York

Something happened

Mom cried. I went to school.

Tried to stay home – anything to

get out of going to school.

Mom said I had to go.

Assembly.

Crash. Crash. Crash.

Over and over.

Every teacher with their opinion. Their speech.

Over and over.

My science teacher turned it off

We was worried we were being

desensitized.

that it was

just

another

special effect to us.

I didn�t fully understand the significance

not even a week later

maybe after a year

after my cousin for war

then I realized

why my mom cried.

Monica

It started like any other day. The buzzing of the

alarm echoed through my ears prompting me to

jump out of bed and run into the kitchen.

�What�s for breakfast?� a groggy voice trailed behind

me, following me up the stairs. Probably Applejacks

I yelled back. I grabbed two bowls and filled

them, then proceeded to the fridge for last quart of

milk to find only juice and beer. I slammed the fridge

shut and ran full spring back down the stairs. I wrenched

open my parents� bedroom door. �Mom, we�re out of milk,�

I said. What I saw confused me; my mother who was

usually still in bed at this time was in her room

several inches from the television, mouth agape revealing

a shocked expression, my words moving past her ears like that

of a stranger�s.

Andrew

�Good morning, Dad,� I said.

My dad nodded and said, �Hey, Son.�

As we sat down at the breakfast table, my father

was reading the newspaper as I was studying my playbook.

�Ready for the big game on Friday night?� he asked.

�I don�t know, Middletown is kinda tough,� I replied.

�Tell you what, how about after work today we�ll

go out and throw a couple of footballs to get you

warmed up? I hear scouts

are coming to the game.� he said.

�Sure, Dad. I have to get going to school, see you tonight?�

�Of course, Son,� he replied.

Those were the last words I heard from him.

Because of those damn terrorists.

All he did was show up to work at the Tower.

He didn�t mean any harm to anyone.

All he wanted to do was put a day�s work in and then throw

a football around with his son.

All I hear are those words over and over again.

�Of course, Son.�

Francisco

Sometimes I think I get too involved in my work

That�s how it was on Sept. 11, 2001.

I was in my office at Western Carolina University

cramming to be ready for class—my freshman

comp class.

First Gayle came to my office door – did I know

that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center

in New York City?

I silently asked myself, what was the World Trade Center?

Then Sandra appeared – speaking of a second plane –

I packed my materials for class, heading to the

computer classroom – I found the professor before me

had left the LCD monitor on and CNN was projecting.

As my students and I watched

people jumped from crumbling skyscrapers

people jumped to their death – live in front of

us

One of my students left in tears

Her father worked at the Pentagon�

Dr. Warner

I remember waking up to the blinding, chaotic images on

the television

Too young to understand, but my mother�s tears were enough

to scare me.

The first tower had already fallen.

When we saw the second tower fall, we thought it was

a replay of the first.

Then the reality sunk in.

The planes hit on the other side of the country, but the

impact was felt in every home.

My elementary school was eerily quiet,

But the moment of silence was so loud.

Sophie

At Holy Family School

Prayer services were nothing new.

We crowded into the big church,

A moment of silence.

A prayer for the families.

As the TV pictures flashed in our minds.

It was too much for some people.

The church was hot

and crowded with students.

Some hadn�t had breakfast.

Some were just glad

to get out of class.

Our own small tragedy struck.

Just two people down the pew,

His eyes rolled back.

He slowly fell over,

His head smacking against the pew.

He started to shake.

A scream erupted,

like those we heard on TV.

�He had a seizure,�

the teachers explained.

Did he have epilepsy?

No

Was he sick?

No.

As a tragedy struck the nation

And we remembered those who were lost,

We had our own tragedy.

The screams echoed from the TV

and from the seizure.

At 11 years old,

many of us couldn�t understand

the tragedy that was striking.

We couldn�t even understand

the small tragedy

in the church.

All we knew

was the fear

and the pain

and the togetherness

that came about

because it was necessary.

Tragedy fed the family of our nation,

as did tragedy feed the family of our school.

At least �

that�s what they say.

Julia

I wake up in a cold sweat.

Today is the day.

I have been preparing myself for this, body

and mind for the last few months.

I thought I was ready, but that doesn�t stop

this sick to my stomach feeling.

This is the first time I�ve been on a plane since

my wife died in an accident.

I try to tell myself that everything is going to

be ok.

When I finally rest in my chair, I know that

today is going to be the day I die.

When the plane is in the air, the shadows make their

way to the cockpit.

There is no resistance.

We are but men and women.

I�m finally coming home.

Allen

They won�t tell me what�s going on,

my parents and my teachers.

I asked Mom

why she was acting funny.

She just asked me if I was ready to go to school.

I was, so we left.

Neither of us talked.

No cars honked.

In first period the principal spoke

to us through the intercom –

spoke to all of us.

He said that the teachers

were not allowed to turn

on the television and watch the news.

There was to be no straying

from typical course work.

Didn�t the principal know that our

teachers never used the televisions

to watch the news?

I asked my friend what had happened

and why was everyone

looking so off today.

He said he was wondering the same

thing himself.

said it was his birthday and everyone had forgot

I told him happy birthday

I told him maybe it was the makings

of a surprise party.

He smiled at me

and said

Ya think?

Brett

Fresh out of the shower,

I turned on the TV.

Brushing my hair, I noticed

all the channels had the

same news.

I stopped.

I sat down. I thought to myself:

Planes crashed? Twin Towers?

Weird.

Probably an accident

couldn�t be on purpose, so I

finished getting ready for

chem class.

Moments later he crashed

through the door, fresh from PT.

Being hundreds of miles away

from my family for college

made me nervous but the

look in his eyes frightened me.

�We�re going to war,� he said.

Guess it was no accident.

Danessa

I remember staring at the television,

exposed to violence I did not know existed.

I was numb.

Were we all in jeopardy? Probably not.

I still wondered.

Why would somebody commit such an act?

It became clear that our country was not what I thought it was.

I had school that day. I arrived to an environment feeling different.

There were tears all around. I still could not feel anything but fear.

I was overrun with emotion as I entered my classroom.

Was I afraid? Absolutely afraid.

I knew we would fight back, but I didn�t want that.

I just wanted to feel safe.

How could I know if we were safe�

I was ten years old with hardly any life experience.

Ryan

I never thought it would be today

That I would plunge to my death

From the 22^nd floor balcony

I had no other choice

The plane had crashed into the building

Blocking off any safe passage to the ground

Rubble and metal raining down on me

Crushing many of my co-workers

Lying in pools of their own blood

Teary-eyed.

Others merely injured or missing limbs

I called my family to say goodbye

Mea alofa fa�ravae (My love is forever)

Andre