9/11 Readers’ Theatre
I walked up to the school on the hill; that great monstrous thing stuck out like a sore thumb in the middle of the hood.
I hadn’t heard anything about what had happened that morning and neither had anyone else. Nobody talked about it before class. Instead, the halls were filled with moans and groans of the assignment due the next week on Homer’s The Odyssey.
Our freshman class could have cared less about what happened in New York that day.
I don’t think that it was spite or insensitivity, but that we could not cognitively absorb the gravity of the situation. It was simply beyond us.
As soon as I walked into English class, our teacher hurried us into our seats because she had “something grave that must be discussed.”
Many students joked and laughed as she expelled the truth about the intentional plane crash attacks on the twin towers. I sat in silence, my heart beating furiously in my chest. A surreal wave came over me, and my teacher’s voice sounded like the teacher in “The Peanuts” cartoon. Wooomp woomp woooooomp womp. “Yes, Miss, I hear what you’ve said, but I can’t grasp what this means for us a nation.” The impending endless years of hate-filled violent rage and flag-waving fools, the allowance of blind patriotism, the lasting effects of such would creep up on my heart slowly like some sort of dormant virus, ready to attack me in my adult years. At the time I first heard about the attacks, I wanted to care, but I didn’t know what there was to care about expect the striking grief that I felt as I watched the people on TV tumbling head first out of the windows. Annie
I was up early. Unreasonably early, but I wanted to get to the city.
If I were to wait much longer, the lines would be too long to grab my sandwich.
I really enjoyed my days off. Not too many people get Tuesday and Thursday off and I was mostly left to experience the city streets while everyone was at work.
It gave an interesting perspective of the city. It was a good time.
I had hopped off my subway train and walked 8:33AM. Eugh
Sitting in line for an hour would have made this breakfast awful.
I slipped my Gameboy in my pocket and walked up the street.
Hey, maybe they’ll throw in the cheese for free. I’m a regular, right?
Yeah. Right.
A quick hustle and I’m in line. Out the door, naturally.
But hey, more business means they stick around. They can fry an egg much better than the people who owned this--
A loud crash. “What? What’s going on?” Everyone in lines steps outside to see what was going on. I hear the glass and debris hit the ground, the sound coming up the way.
Smoke was coming from the World Trade Center.
A bomb? In the World Trade Center?
I see a guy running from that direction. Then a few more people.
One guys yells “Y’all should get out of here! A plane just flew into the World Trade Center!”
A plane? Like, an accident? What happened that the plane just crashes into a building like that?
I’m not sticking around to find out what happened though.
I started running. I don’t know where, but anywhere out of the area.
I was almost halfway through the city when the second plane hit.
This was no fucking accident.
I wonder what Giuliani's gonna say about this one. Eduardo
The Dog House on Wild 949 begins their show. This radio station is set as our alarm to wake up in the morning. It was our little ritual listening to this radio segment involving prank calls and silly vulgar skits to begin our mornings. My parents hardly spoke English, so they didn’t understand anything these DJs were saying. My brother and I woke from the bed. It was a bit chilly, so I was in same bed snuggled next to him.
“Dude get the hell off me! How old are you, ten? Go lay with mom!”
“This is Elvis! “Good morning listeners and for those just tuning in!
We have breaking news about some planes hitting the World Trade Center. People turn on your TV and watch this. There is also breaking news at the state capitol. Bro today is gonna be a long day!”
“Yo JV, we don’t know anyone working the Trade Buildings do we? This is mental so effing crazy man. Who are these hijackers? Are they even hijackers?
“JV, should we start on first skit dude?
“I am so blindsided. Maybe we should take some callers?”
I lie in bed listening to the baffled DJs while my brother takes his shower. The time read 6:30. What is a hijacker? Anton
I was late to work that day—that horrific and nauseating day.
It was earlier in the morning and I had turned back to return to my apartment to grab my documents for a meeting later on.
After getting all of my things together, I took off once again.
As I made my way to the bridge, there was a halt in traffic.
Like sitting in a parking lot—unable to move.
People were getting out of their cars
and walking over to the side of the bridge, so, I did too. I looked out over the water and saw smoke emanating from the Towers.
The behemoth structures were being watched by everyone.
Then, a plane ripped through the open sky and slammed into one of the towers,
Causing them to collapse.
Everyone ran and screamed in a maniacal frenzy.
I fought my way through the crowd and continued towards the towers.
I had to see it for myself—I was in disbelief—this couldn’t be real.
Standing at ground zero, I watched—smoke filled the air making it difficult to breathe—suffocating anyone in the vicinity; EMTs hastily scrambled around the area; and the bodies—the bodies of those who perished littered the rubble in front of me and it finally sunk in—
This was real—very real. Jordan
9/11 was uneventful.
A plane hitting a building.
It wasn’t a big deal.
It was happening somewhere else.
It was happening on TV.
So I didn’t care.
It wasn’t real.
Like scary movies, what did it matter?
Just fictionalized blood and guts
As far as I was concerned.
I didn’t see why it should influence me.
Did I even know where New York was?
Another universe perhaps…?
My world didn’t have to stop.
I was safe; I wasn’t in New York.
Danger was happening somewhere else.
Danger was happening on TV. Beverly
I look at the mess of bodies underneath the rubble. They are scattered under heavy material of the two buildings and the plane crash aftermath. It is a horrific sight. Adults, kids, limbs, blood, gashes, some conscious and some aren’t. I need to look for survivors. This looks pretty bad. I have to find those who are still breathing. Is anyone even alive? Jesus Christ. A man peeks under from the dust and debris. He’s struggling to move his body and makes a clattering sound. “Hey!” I called out to my colleagues of EMTs. “Over here!” I move past the crumble of what used to be walls and move to the man. “Hi sir,” I calmly say. “Things are going to be all right. We’ll get you out of here.” Charlene
Today is a great day. I am so excited! My teacher has told us many times that soon we will go to the President's home. They will show us rooms and pictures. I have passed his house many times, but never been invited. I hope we can play on his lawn. It is very big. I wave at the house from the outside every time that I walk by it. It will be such fun to wave at the people on the street from the inside.
* * *
We had to go home in a big hurry. It was very scary. There were so many people and cars and loud noises. Like the big Christmas parade. But it was not a happy parade. It was very sad. And I just wanted to be home with my mother. Away from all the noise and crying faces. I thought only kids cried.
* * *
At home my mother and father sit on the couch, close. The TV is on; the volume is loud. My mommy always tells me to turn down the sound when I am watching cartoons. But today, the sound is loud, and Mommy and Daddy are silent.
* * *
I watch an airplane hit a tower. There is another tower just like it. They are the same. I can tell when things are the same or when they are different. There is a lot of smoke. I wonder why my parents like this show. I have seen this picture before.
* * *
My doll has a small TV. On the TV is a picture of the two towers. The TV that my doll watches never changes channels. She must like this show too. But I do not. I do not like it at all. I take my black marker and color over the picture of the two towers on my doll's TV. Now her TV is off. I wish my mommy and daddy would turn our TV off.
I know I am not supposed to use marker on my toys. That is what my mommy said when I colored purple shoes on my doll. I know it will be like this forever. It can't be changed.
Bethany
I was six
I was in second grade
But my teacher took us into the classroom of my first grade teacher
Because our room didn’t have a TV and anyway
On the loud speaker the principal asked classes to double up.
I didn’t know what for
But I was happy to see her again.
I was six
I was in second grade
But I was so young; those days are hazy and
I only realized it was second grade I was in, not first.
Because I counted on my fingers just before writing this
Because I could not remember about another day that lives in infamy.
What I do remember is, it was my parents’ anniversary,
They were planning to go out to dinner, leave us
with our neighbors.
When I got home, we dressed in our best and
my parents took my sister and me to the restaurant instead where
everybody turned to stare at us, happy and laughing, my sister and I.
I didn’t get it, but grown-ups were weird, so I ignored them.
My parents never told us what happened. The only thing I learned
immediately
was that Disneyland was soooo empty, my cousin told me. “I thought
there were going to be fireworks,” he said.
Airplanes were not allowed for some reason, so they drove.
Later I learned what happened but
I was six so explanations from grown-ups weren’t helpful.
What’s a world trade center? What’s a terrorist?
I was almost nine.
I was in fourth grade.
I was used to people giving my parents dirty looks when we tried to
celebrate something good in America, in my parents’ meeting.
What I wasn’t used to was
Garrett H bothering new kids, trying
to get them to think
he was cool.
Instead, Iranian/Iraqi Boshra
was taunted and
no adult stepped in this time
to tell him off and correct him.
I am twenty-two
I am almost done with college
I read the news, all perspectives.
The culprits of that day caused the towers to fall.
But I wonder if it was only them bringing the country down. Nichelle
I was in class when it happened.
One moment Ms. Johnson was teaching,
the next Mr. Rosewood had burst
in, telling her to turn on the classroom
TV, and there was a building,
burning. The caption said the
Twin Towers were struck by a plane.
Ms. Johnson went to talk to
Mr. Rosewood at the back of
the class. I couldn’t hear what
they were saying. They seemed
to forget about us, just watching
the TV and talking. And then
there was a plane, and
it crashed into the other building
as we all watched. Why did the
plane crash?
We were sent home early that
day. Caitlin
9/11: Fireman
I was sitting, playing cards with my fellow cohorts at the fire station. Benny had just won again as we threw our cards down on to the table. We all knew Benny cheated at cards; I mean how can someone win three times in a row? As Benny wrapped his arms around our winnings, or should I say his winnings, a loud ringing sounded through the fire station. It indicated that a call had been made, and someone needed our help. I quickly grabbed my money from the table as I ran over to the pole. I heard Benny yell after me as I slid down, wanting his money that he won fair and square. I pretended not to hear him as I went to change into my gear. Every time the alarm sounded, adrenaline would pump through my veins as I went through every training procedure in my head when I first started out. My first and only thought is “Would I ever see my family again?”
Ellen
I remember going home
then the sounds of sirens
filling the streets
police cars, fire trucks
the endless cars coming
and going
hundreds of people
running
smoke filled the air
dust filled the streets
I couldn’t see
I couldn’t breathe
I ran as fast as I could
but it wasn’t fast enough
I woke up in a hospital
to the cries of my mother
I didn’t know what was going on
until she turned on the TV. Angela
I was picking at my shoe
when the teacher gathered
all us small children round
on the floor
where he told us the Twin Towers had fallen
and tragedy struck
But I wasn’t listening.
It would be many years later
before I learned
the terror of two planes crashing,
crushing anything and anyone in the way,
the terrible heat and flames
as victims struggled to escape the ruins,
the colossal dust that coated the city
as those trembling towers collapsed
the fear in the eyes of the passengers,
as they watched their plane plunge,
and in the eyes of countless Americans and Muslims
waiting for what would happen next. Brandon
“World Trade Center, please, and step on it.
I’ll give you an extra $5 for every
red light you pass. I’m running late.”
But there was no way to hurry
against the New York traffic.