9/11 Readers� Theatre

Spring 2013

 

Forgot to set my alarm and now I�m late for work

trust me to be so damn forgetful can�t get anything

right these days. David�s going to hit the fan when

he finds out I�m late again, twice in one week. I

shove a banana down my throat, almost forget to chew,

fling my jacket on and fly out the door.

My tongue runs over the slimy film that coats

my unbrushed teeth.  I run down four flights of

stairs and head for the subway.  I squeeze

between people who amble along, almost

purposefully slow just to get on my nerves.

I clench my teeth, sealing the impatient slurs

that long to escape from my mouth.

Hastily, I clamber down the stairs and

feed my ticket to the machine but it

rejects the ticket.  A long drawn out

sigh whistles out my lips, I do not have time

for this.  I race over to the machine, shove

my dollar bills in and yank my ticket out,

steal on through to the platform where I can

hear my train arriving, screeching impatiently.

The lady in front of me is blocking my way and I

try to get around her, but she is extremely large.

I watch helplessly as my train rolls away, forcing

me to catch the next one in ten minutes.  I fidget,

annoyed, checking my watch in the hopes that time

might magic itself back.  When I finally make it

off the train and out onto the

street, I hear a deep bellowing thunder

like the sky opening up.  Overhead I watch a

large dark shadow move across the sky toward

that building I had entered every morning, Mon.-Fri.

for work for the last two years.  It showed no sign of

stopping.                                                         Eleisha

 

listened to the radio today instead of that

old creedence clearwater revival tape

kids in the backseat singing love potion #9

it�s charming

how they sing so off-key

wait

what

I have to pull over to the side of the road

the air caught in my throat

Dear Lord, hear my prayer

I tell the kids to be quiet

they want to know why I pulled over: why this why that

Krista be quiet I�m trying to listen

she doesn�t want to listen

I sigh and try to explain

but they look at me –

Oblivious                                                        Krista

 

(Flight Attendant – Betty Ong)

This is what my mother feared. What

she warned me about.  Maybe not exactly.

Surely she never imagined men taking

over the plane and telling us our new

destination was one of the New York towers. I�ve

worked for this airline 6 years, met Amy

when I started.

there she is. Crying

over the Senior pilot�s body, little more than a

crumpled heap.  My God, did they just let them

on with those?  They�re barely old enough to have

a drink, but there they are pointing into the

crowd warning them of what is to come.

Their patchy beards now glistening with

sweat, not unlike that of the passengers.

We�re flying low now. I can hear the warnings

from the pit. Everyone can hear it.

I know they hear it too.                                  Irma

 

�I Am Still Here, But Why Aren�t They?�

 

It was 5:46 AM for me,

But it was 8:46 AM for you.

I lived in San Jose, CA,

But you lived in New York City, NY.

I was across the country from it,

But they were across the street from it.

I was dreaming in my sleep,

But they were wide-awake in a nightmare.

I was in my warm bed,

But they were in the cold morning.

I heard about people dying,

But they saw people dying.

I heard about the clouds of dust,

But they were in the clouds of dust.

I had my hand over my mouth from astonishment,

But they had their hand over their mouth to block the inhalation of dust.

I was thinking of the 4th grade in the morning,

But they were thinking of how to escape the 80th floor.

I was scared,

But they were terrified.

I was speechless for words,

But they were screaming for help.

I will always know why it happened,

But they will never know why.

I was thinking of my mother on a plane back from her honeymoon from Hawaii,

But they were thinking of their loved ones on a plane in a tower.

I had my mother come with me that day to school to feel safe,

But they will never feel their mothers� embrace again.

I will be able to grow old with my lover,

But they won�t.

I saw the planes crash into the towers on TV,

But they saw the planes crash into the towers with their own eyes.

I saw the towers fall on the TV,

But they saw the towers fall from the inside.

I saw leaves falling from the trees that day,

But they saw bodies dropping like stones.

I know firefighters and police officers went in,

But some never came out.

I was hoping they would be found,

And they were hoping to be found, too.

I am still here,

But why aren�t they?

                                                            Ally

 

Why are people screaming?  oh my gosh – people

are yelling, crying!  What is going on??

I look out my apartment window and see

a gray monster of smoke – Fire, Ash, Smoke, and

Concrete tower over New York.  �My God –

Help us!� I scream under my breath.

The sirens sound – the streets of New York

are full of debris – parents and children, families,

adolescents, men and women in business suits –

Helpless!  Nothing separates us now � we scream

for mercy, we scream for help�those of us

still alive and those of us not � we scream.

September 11, 2001.                           Susie

 

The sirens were blaring.

People were screaming, while others were crying.

I grabbed on to Ma�s hand as hard as I could.

What was going on?

I watched as the police pushed people behind a caution tape.

Mama wouldn�t tell me what was going on.

She just held my hands as she looked up with tears in her eyes.

I tugged on her hand hoping to get her attention but she

couldn�t look away.

Why wasn�t Mama paying attention to me?

I looked up to see the building I knew so well crashing down.

The smoke and debris were piled in the front.

No one could go past.

Mama dropped to her knees beside me still not letting go.

What was wrong I asked.

I didn�t know if she heard me.

I looked at her once again.

Where was Daddy?                             Angela

 

I came out of my room all dressed up and ready to go.

Typical day. I�m tired. I hate mornings. My teeth

are slippery and minty from brushing my teeth and breakfast is

probably already in my intestines, I don�t know.

My mom is sitting in front of the TV and not down in

the car waiting for me like usual.  I notice she�s crying and praying

softly to herself, and I can�t figure out why until I focus

on the TV.  A building is smoking. An important one.  I can�t grasp

the significance of it.  It�s just a building.  Hopefully the people

are okay.

We all kneel in a circle and pray and the TV in the background

describes the chaos of the situation.  I�m safe on the other

side of the world.  Well, if I were there I�d just run away.

Simple solution.  Everyone goes home happy, right?

And then the other is hit, too.  Somebody did this on

purpose?  But this is America, we�re invincible and everyone loves us.

I don�t get it.  How would something like this even begin to formulate?

I�m crying because Mommy�s crying.  So is my sister. So is

my brother. We�re praying, but the smoke isn�t stopping.

            And now the buildings are falling.  And there are people jumping

from the windows.  And though I can�t hear them, I know they

won�t be okay.  And I don�t get it.                                         Ty

 

just woke up with the idea

that I should probably hurry

up and brush my teeth when

 

my mum�s voice could be heard

waking my daddy

something about some building

being bombed and

falling down

 

who cares

 

mean people bomb other people

all the damn time

especially on the news so why

can�t we put the cartoons back on?

 

at school, half of my classmates are

missing, and all of my teachers

have the news on the radio and

Mr. Madson says that we will forever remember

this date and

            this day

he has lost it if he thinks that a thing

            even this sad thing

will stick in my mind more than

all of the other

            sad things in the world.                                   Rhiannon

 

(coffee shop owner)

the daily routine: annoying alarm, the smell

of my own fresh brewed coffee, dog barking

next door not allowing that snooze to take effect.

morning bathroom run on the cold tiles

of the lonely house.

I walk to work as usual, it�s only on

the next street.

The usuals walk in and the cup of joe

ready in my hand I�d say �what�ll it

be?� already knowing the answer I hand

them the cups and see their faces

brighten up.

customer�

order�

money�

brew�

extra shot? wish I had one�

fake smile on my face �

big crash

customer and I look up and out the

window

people screaming,

running

my whole shop is shaking.

I walk outside�dangerous?

there is debris, smoke, and boulders of

concrete falling from the sky

struck and awestruck.

What do I do?                                                 Thomas

 

7th grade student

            I wake up thinking that it�s any other day, but

it�s not.  Something is wrong.  I hear my parents

arguing, that�s not something that happens often.

I come in and ask Mom and Dad what�s

the matter and I see tears coming from

their eyes.  My mom rushes to hug me

and starts babbling nonsense about a

plane hijacking and people dying and

how I shouldn�t go to school today.

But Dad says I should go, people would be

understanding, he says, the world is not like it was half a century ago, he says.

I�m in shock,

when they explain to me what happened, but

I have to go to school.

            At school, all the kids look at me

weird.  Friends walk away

from me, wouldn�t talk to me.  In class

a few minutes before the lecture,

teacher running late, everyone avoids me.

I can�t take it, but then someone, I don�t

know who, but only hear, yells out

�Why�d you do that? Get the Hell

out. Traitors�

In tears I run out of the classroom, the teacher

just out in the hall, asking me what�s the matter.

And soon I�m on the floor crying out.  Asking why.

I have suffered just as much as

they have.  Those terrorists did not only attack

my country, did not only hijack the

plane, they had also hijacked my religion today.

                                                                        Alexander

 

It was like every other day:

Woke up, got ready and Mom took my brother and me to school

But when I stepped out only the playground

Silence.

Nobody was playing or laughing or screaming

Just sitting quietly, huddled in groups.

I walked over to my friends sitting in front of the classroom door.

�Happy Birthday Brennan!� I said

He looked up from the ground, eyes tempted by tears.

�It�s a sad birthday, a no good birthday at all�

They told me what happened.  In class we watched the

news.  The buildings crumbling down into a cloud of dust.

It became that day when nobody said anything.

                                                                        Lea

 

Eleven years old.

I was eleven years old when the planes hit

the towers in New York.

 

When I woke up to get ready for school

Mom was watching the news.

Crying.

When I asked her what happened she said

�a plane crashed into the World Trade Center�

�Oh.� I said.

 

I watched the news with my crying mother.

We watched the plane hit the building over and over again

 

When I got to school some kids were

crying

some making jokes.

Some didn�t know about the plane.

I didn�t know which group I belonged in.

 

My teacher told us about the news

in case we didn�t know.

We were eleven years old.

She said she didn�t care what the

school said

and kept the TV on.

 

No one paid attention in class that day.

Together, as a class,

as a whole

We watched the 2nd plane hit the

building.

 

And we all cried.

Together.

As a whole.                                         Marissa

 

a beautiful September day in western North Carolina

where I was teaching at Western Carolina University

autumn leaves already glorifying the hills

 

I was cramming for class – my freshman comp class

Sandra came to my office – did I hear that

a plane had just crashed into the World Trade

Center in New York?

I�m embarrassed as I remember now – I didn�t

know what the WTC was.

 

I returned to my prep for class.

Gayle appeared in the doorway, another story

about planes flying into the Trade Center.

 

I left for class, heading to the computer classroom.

The previous instructor had left the instructor station

computer on

CNN live transfixed my students and me

 

We watched as smoke billowed, the towers crumbled,

people jumped to their deaths

Smoke, silence, shock, sadness.

One of my students left in tears – her father

worked at the Pentagon.                     Dr. Warner

 

            Thinking back now: I woke up and

saw my mother crying.  I asked,  �Ama, porque

lloras?�  My mother replied, �Porque los hijos de la

Chingada chocaron las avirones en Nueva York.�  I ran

to the TV (I was only in 6th grade then).  I left for school

wondering if anyone knew what happened in New York.

Our principal got on the loud speaker and talked

about the incident and how we should pray for

those who lost their lives.

            I asked myself what would I do if I was on one

of those planes?  Would I fight back or just sit

waiting to see what happens?  Till this day I don�t know what

I would do.  But then again the chance of surviving

a hijack are slim to none.  Therefore I would

do anything in my power to do something heroic.

Especially if my family or friends were in the plane

with me.                                                          Jose

 

            I glare at the screaming alarm clock and

try to convince myself to get out of bed.  I

know that if there�s any chance I�m going to

make my 10 a.m. statistics class, I have to get

up. But the sheets are warm and my body is

still heavy with a deep, lingering sleep, so I

switch the radio from alarm to FM hoping

music will get me moving.

            �Again, if you�re just tuning in, a

plane has crashed into the North Tower of

the World Trade center!�  the DJ�s voice is

frantic and disbelieving, and it catches my attention.

            I don�t know what the World Trade

Center is, but I figure my parents will be

interested to hear about it before they leave

for work, so I slip out of bed and pad barefoot

into the kitchen and living room.

            �Hey Mom, what�s the World Trade Center

and where is it located?� I ask, still tired.

            She looks at me with a mix of

confusion and anger, she�s not a morning person

either.

            �It�s in New York. Why?� she snaps.

            I pick up the remote for the TV and

shrug.

            ��Cuz apparently a plane crashed into it.

They just mentioned it on the radio.�

 

            My mother and father freeze, and stare at

me like I�ve just told them I�m an alien

queen named Bertha who loves peanuts.

            I finally have the TV channel set

to CNN

             �There, see.� I point to the screen

                        The next hour passes like molasses,

my parents call into work to say they�ll be

late and I miss class.  I�m not entirely sure what�s

just happened in the world, but I know that

mine will never be the same. All I can

think about is my big brother and how he�s

still in basic training.                           Laura

 

A normal morning, I thought.

Gotta� get ready to head out to school.

My mom�s voice, loudly telling me I

needed to shower, or we would all be late.

I walked into the kitchen, and almost

fell into my mom�s gaping mouth,

stunned into immobility.

I followed the trail her eyes made

and my mouth fell open too.

The scene being shown was unknown.

The words that explained were undecipherable.

Bomb, airplanes, New York, World Trade Center?

As I tried to eat my cereal, in my

comfortable, quiet kitchen, I heard them

talking

 

Mom says:

I know, what are the odds.

Today, of all days. Another September 11th.

 

Dad says:

A new country, a new life, same

atrocities, and on this anniversary.

He shook his head, and tried to

shake off the images that were vying for

a turn at his attention.

 

I was too young to know, but

this marked a deadly anniversary in

their lives.

 

Now this day would mark an anniversary

in mine.

 

One day, two events, immeasurable pain.

                                                            Camila

 

            I hopped in the news van that morning

with a numb feeling in my chest.  How many

people were in that building when

the plane hit?  We took an elevator to the

top of a building on the other side of the

city and stood waiting, watching, with the

other camera crews.  I tried to hold my

hands steady when it came time to film, but

they shook.  The journalist in front of my camera

read the facts we knew on live TV.

            Time of collision

            Approximate numbers

            No names.  Did I know anyone who

            worked there?  Were they at work this early?

The whoosh of another plane interrupted my

thoughts.  It couldn�t be another plane.

            The news crews around me stood frozen,

our minds reaching out, willing the plane to

disappear.

            It disappeared into the side of the other

tower, doubling the smoke in the air.

            Doubling the numbness and the pain and the shaking.

            �Oh my God,� one journalist said.

            �It appears that another plane has hit the

            other tower� another one reported mechanically

            into her camera.

The planes were mechanical, but the people

were not.                                             Franchesca

 

Poem # 1

Too early.

Whose idea was this, anyway?

At least we�re only watching

a video.

Something for

American businessmen

who do business

in other countries.

CAS 140

Communications and Culture

The professor turns on

the TV

static.

find the right channel.

put in the tape.

            What was that

            on the TV

            before the video started?

            buildings?

            smoke?

            World Trade Center?

            across the bottom of the screen?

Fleeting images

No logical connections

So the video continues

and we all learn

how to negotiate

with businessmen

from the Middle East

 

Poem #2

How do I respond?

I�ve never been to

New York

at least not when I could

remember

the closest was

perhaps

Dick Clark�s

New Years Eve

I don�t know

people there

at least not in the city

I know I should feel bad

So why don�t I care?                           Jeremy

 

I couldn�t write

because

I don�t have a story.

I don�t remember anything

but the towers

burning.

 

And animosity.

 

At school I pledged allegiance

to a flag half mast

and a country I never

betrayed

a country that had

betrayed me.

 

Who cares if the enemy

 

cries?                                                   Nahida