Readers� Theatre for 9/11/01
�A Last Victim�
What just happened?
What is going on?
I was sitting by my desk writing up
that darn article.
Suddenly I find myself in this foggy
bright place.
Where am I?
Am I dreaming? Is this a dream?
Ok. I�m waking up now.
I�m going to be late for work.
I have to submit that article on
�gardening�
by noon time. (Pause)
Where am I?
I see ambulances. Fire trucks.
It�s dusty in here.
Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! (Pause)
What time is it?
I ought to pick up my daughter by 6
p.m.
I can�t forget this time.
No. Not again.
Why, Sharon?
Why is she being taken to the hospital?
What happened to her face?
Her arms? Where are they?!
Oh no.
I need a mirror.
I was just in my office.
Now it is not there, anymore. (Itzel)
Mommy said I didn�t have to go to
school
today, which usually excites me.
I hated my teacher and still hadn�t made
many friends at my new school in the
Bronx.
She said we�d be going out for some
ice cream but looked sad, really sad.
I thought it must be something on the
TV she had been watching all morning.
We went to Baskin Robbins and I
got two scoops of my favorite
flavor, Rocky Road.
We sat down and Mommy went really quiet
for a while and just stared at me.
She was crying but I still didn�t know
why.
Then she finally came out and said,
�Daddy
wouldn�t be coming home from
work.� (Kyle)
I hate math. I hate this teacher.
When are we going to move on to
language arts?
That�s my favorite part of class
because I�m in the
highest reading group!! Ouuuhhh the
phone!
I wonder who�s calling? Wait why does
my teacher
look so shocked? What was that
word she just said? Hijacking? What�s going on?
Is that fear on her face? Something really
bad must be happening because Ms. Boylin�s
facial expression never changes. I hate this
class. (Harmoni)
My mom got me up that morning
just like any other morning.
I went downstairs to fine her
at the television.
Some buildings were on fire.
My mother looked concerned.
But I was more concerned
with why the TV
was on at all.
When I went to school
my third grade teacher
asked the class for
a moment of silence
for all the people in the Twin Towers.
I didn�t know what she meant.
I didn�t know for a long time.
Maybe I will never really know. (Tim)
The playground loomed especially that
day
when I overheard a 5th
grader
mutter to another
�Did you hear? Somebody
ran a plane right through some towers
in New York!�
What a story! I thought –
but the teacher tears I noticed
when I got to class were real –
the words crept
into my heart
and never left
I felt the smoke
fill my soul
as we were told the tragic tale. (Raven)
My alarm clock screamed at me to get
out of bed.
I sat up, dazing off as my body slowly
started
moving towards the bathroom. It was
quiet. It was never supposed to be this quiet.
My mother wasn�t yelling at my
sisters and me to hurry. My aunts and
uncles weren�t slamming doors as they
rushed to get ready for work. I looked
at my sisters still sleeping as they
tried to get a few more minutes of
dreams and I waited. and waited. Waited
for my mother to come barging through
the door screaming, �Come on get up!
Get dressed! We�re going to be late!�
Ten minutes passed and the only thing
I heard was silence. I opened
the bedroom door and headed for the
kitchen. I expected to be greeted by
the smell of eggs or beans but instead
I was greeted by a note on the
refrigerator door that read: �Had to
leave early. Have fun at school. Lunch
on table.� signed Mama y Tios.
I looked at the table and saw no lunch.
My mother must have forgotten, and I
knew then that today was going to
be a bad day. (Adilene)
I�ll never forget that day; it felt
like
everything changed. I was 18 and I was awakened
by a phone call from my friend
�My ��! We�re being attacked.�
Half awake I reply, �What�s going on?�
In a giddy excited way my friend says,
�Dawg, they�re dropping
bombs and shit all over America.�
�What?� I reply.
�Planes are falling from the sky, and
bombs are being
dropped in D.C.�
�Come thru. We�ll smoke a blunt, and watch this
shit!�
Brand new soldier at DFAC sees the
plane crashing
on the TV
�It�s fucking on!� (Charles)
What is that shown through the glass?
Is that me or is that you?
Am I seeing remnants of flesh or an
idea?
Whatever it may be,
it has its purpose.
Not just a purpose but many.
This and that, me and you
all reflect on this.
This idea put into flesh
so everyone can see it through
whichever glass is in front of them. (Cameron)
The TV in the library broadcasted the
news.
I watched from half a world away.
safe.
I saw the smoke. I heard the screams.
America was falling.
America, the great nation. The land of
hope, prosperity
and dreams for the people of a third
world country
like the one I was currently in.
America, the home I longed to return
to.
What is happening? (Kathleen)
It is my turn to get pushed on the
swings
when the loud speaker calls me to the
office.
Daddy is there waiting. He says it�s
time to go
home. I try telling Daddy, but it�s my turn
to plan on the swings. He just ignores me,
and the office lady says, �I understand
sir.�
He holds my hand and squeezes it tight.
He leads me to the car. I stomp my feet and pout.
Daddy is being unfair. He doesn�t talk about why
he�s pulling me out of school
today. �Daddy, can I go
back to school?� �No,�: he says. I watch Dad lean
against the backyard door and pull out
a cigarette.
He lights it and blows on it. He gets another call.
�Yeah � on the news � I saw the
plane. Yes �
she�s here � safe.�
Dad blows again and tilts and with smoke
coming
out to the sky. There are two cigarettes facing
up side by side still clouding the sky
gray. (Mariah)
(My 4th grade self)
Today is the day I get to sit with Beker
he wears a green lab coat, has orange
hair, and
a red nose and tells the class that I�m
the leader,
But when I walk into class something
changes
Mr. Gilbert rushes his fourth graders
to
Mrs. West�s class. We sit in front of the TV.
I watch their faces, Mr. Gilbert�s and
Mrs. West�s
they look shocked, horrified. They say, �This
is happening in New York.� I wonder, �how
far is New York from San Jose?�
I finally look at the TV.
The plane.
The smoke. The fire.
Then the other tower has a
plane and smoke and fire.
I look at Mr. Gilbert, his hand over
his
mouth and his eyes glued to the set.
If he�s scared, I want to go home.
I need to know there is a home. (Tracy)
As the TV plays loudly in the classroom
the
most distinct voice is that kid Carey
as he
runs around the classroom with a mask
that
he just made while watching the news
speak about the burning buildings. Carey starts
making gremlin-like noises – and
yells, �I�m a terrorists.�
Mrs. Near is no longer the soft-spoken
teacher we knew. Mrs. Near is now the drill
sergeant. She yells, �Carey, you�re suspended.�
The class
snaps silent. It should be silent. (Benjamin)
I remember not understanding
the television was never on
not ever in the mornings—
but my cereal was the same so I
decided not to be scared.
I remember my father shaking
I remember no one explaining
My breakfast selections have long since
changed
I still don�t understand. (Kate)
I didn�t know why my mom
was crying that morning.
I poured my cereal and sat
down on the floor in front of
the TV when I saw the black
smoke rising from these towers.
Was the movie really that
sad? When I saw the red-
headed news lady I thought, the
airplane, the fire, the crash
all must be real. �There�s been
an accident,� she said packing
my brothers and me into the car.
I overheard her on the phone,
apparently her cousin was in
New York, wherever that was.
Had the plane hit him too? (Sofia)
No one had ever sat me down and told me
what darkness looked like
I guess I was too na�ve
too used to days on the placid
playground and
sharing warm smiles under the sun.
My mother�s hand cradled mine, walking
home
that day
That eruption of sound, booming through
my ears
rattling in my head. I felt my mother�s hand slipping from my
grasp
and collapsing my blissful vision. In tandem to the tower
the plume of debris climbing, reaching
up as if
it were reaching for God, reaching for
an answer, asking why.
It spread higher, wider –
blotting out the sun,
blotting out the light.
That day I saw firsthand what darkness
looked like. (Anthony)
Woke up to watch the news.
Wanted to catch the weather.
Then I saw what I saw.
Mom came in. Went to school. Things
got quiet after that.
Then came the hate and rage. (Sukhber)
I walked into the living room to remind
Mama she had to take me to school.
She was just standing there. Frozen. Standing
there looking at the TV. I think she might
have been crying. I looked at the TV
and didn�t understand what I was
seeing.
Was Mama watching a movie? She usually
doesn�t watch movies in the morning.
I can tell something
is wrong. I left the living
room; I didn�t want to watch that movie
with Mama. It looked scary. She shouldn�t
have been watching something that scary
in the morning.
(Nicole)
As I am looking down, 80 stories above
everybody, I know I am going to die.
I don�t know what has happened, but
all I know is that I�m stuck on
the 80th floor with no way
out. I
walk towards a busted window
and look down. How am I going
to jump? Or should I just jump
into the flames now? I�ll jump. (Monica)
I wake up to the sound
of my mother calling me.
�Come out here,� she yells
and I hurry to the living room.
My mother is on the phone
with my dad
her eyes wide as she stares
into the TV screen,
two buildings collapsing.
We are being attacked she tells me.
We are being attacked, I think.
We are being attacked,
and I shiver and watch the TV screen
and think this is not how America
is supposed to be. (Vanessa)
I didn�t have a cell phone in September
of 2001
I was living and teaching at Western
Carolina University;
the Smoky Mountains of rural western NC
made cell phone towers unlikely.
I didn�t have a cell phone but as I
watched hours and hours of the grief
replayed,
heard those last word messages recorded
on cell phones,
heard the words �let�s roll� from those
brave passengers on the flight that
crashed
in a Pennsylvania field,
I knew I needed to get a cell phone
If I were on a plane taken by hijackers,
on a plane flying into the Towers,
if I knew I would be dying,
I would want to make calls;
I would want to say, �I love you
� thank you� (Dr. Warner)
I was in middle school. I was getting
ready for the day. As usual the television with the
morning news was on. Although,
this particular morning both
my parents were watching with an
unfamiliar energy. My mom was sitting and
my dad was standing. I asked
about what was going on.
They uttered something about planes in
New York, flying into buildings, had
been
hijacked. I walked away ignorant to the
importance of this event.
The TVs were on in every
class that day. Teachers barely said anything.
Everyone was just watching. I remember
seeing people jumping from
buildings. My
stomach churned. (Lily)
(sixth grade English teacher, San Jose,
CA)
As I sat in front of my class
trying to explain to 30 sixth graders
what had happened in New York this
morning
as they consumed their bowls of sugary
cereal,
I could tell they couldn�t grasp the
complexity
of the situation.
I wasn�t even sure they were paying
attention
until I dropped the word �terrorists�
and the snickering and the finger
pointing began.
I knew at that very moment the only
message they would get from my
morning�s lecture
was that in America it is okay to point
the finger. (Brittany)
The morning was red like fire
in New York, but here in San Jose
it was casual with yellow sunlight
and I woke up, nine years old,
and saw the tower smoking
for a moment, and heard
my parents fearing was and a draft
like Nicaragua had, like my father
suffered
in the seventies.
but I was not afraid,
I was certain in the sunlight
But the smoke from the towers
and the dust of their falling
was slowly consuming the sun. (Emmanuel)
(from the perspective of a World Trade
Center employee)
�Beep Beep Beep Beep�
How many sick days do I have left?
I don�t think I�ve used any.
Man, I don�t want to get up.
I had way too much to drink
last night.
Should I call out
and nurse this hangover?
No, I have too much to do.
Maybe a long shower
will cure the throbbing.
I�m tired
of this crowded subway.
I should�ve called in sick.
Why is this woman yelling in my ear?
I should have called in sick.
My only comfort is
my desk chair
Maybe today won�t be so bad after all.
What was that!
Last time the ground shook
that hard,
I was in San Francisco
some years back.
What�s that smell?
Why�s it getting dark?
Oh no!
Quick!
Get out!
I should�ve called in sick� (Elle)
Gradually the voice of the newscaster
grew
louder and louder.
I opened up one eye and saw my dad
sitting on my
bed with a cup of coffee, watching the
news.
He felt my stare and looked back and
said,
�Look at what those crazy assholes
did!�
I didn�t look. I was wondering why my dad
was still here and not at work.
My dad babbled on about news all of the
time so
I paid no attention.
I rubbed my eyes to take the eye
boogers out
and stared at the screen with
hesitation.
Once my vision cleared I saw buildings
collapse,
I saw people running, I saw smoke, I
saw fire, I saw fear
For the first time in my life,
I saw war. (Jorge)
I didn�t understand.
My dad was always up early.
But my mom?
It was dark outside. She never
gets up before the sun.
She looked scared.
So did my dad.
My dad is tough.
I didn�t understand.
I stood behind the Lay-Z-Boy,
watching the TV.
Smoke and fire, people screaming.
New York City.
Everyone was scared.
I didn�t understand.
It was just a plane and a building.
I didn�t understand.
On TV, we watched
as another plane collided with the
second tower.
The building collapsed in front of our
eyes.
I decided to go to school that day.
We watched the news, there, too.
I was just starting 6th
grade.
I didn�t understand
much of anything.
I understand now.
But do I really? (Stephanie)
Bad things happen in the world
sometimes,
so I�ve been told.
But what do I know?
I am too young for the disillusionment
to set in.
This news report means nothing to me
other than
a few people dead.
Or a lot, but what�s the difference?
Numbers hold no weight to me.
So, teacher, what do you expect I�ll
learn from watching this?
I can�t tell you what it�s like to die
in a plane crash.
I can�t say what it�s like to
transition from daily duties to death.
I can�t relate to losing the people I
love most so abruptly.
I can�t imagine being assigned to such
an attack, believing I am saving the world.
I can�t pretend to have been on the
level of the politician
forced to explain to the masses, to
take accountability, or to shift blame.
I can�t fathom the numbers.
And twelve years later, I still won�t.
But I will be able to tell you,
truthfully, that depravity exists in this world. (Danny)
(perspective of a fireman)
Not enough men to help, how can we?
what can we do� I want to say nothing,
but I want to do something.
Don�t jump, please don�t jump.
We�re coming. We�re coming to save you. (Juan)
I heard my mother, fin the other room
cry, �oh God�
as I tried to get my hair perfect for
my 8th grade picture day.
Her voice sounded so helpless. So unlike her.
My brother and I went into the living
room to check on her.
Her hand was over her mouth.
She was kneeling on the floor, her eyes
glued to the TV.
I looked at the screen and I knew.
I knew this was bad.
�Come here, you guys,� she pleaded to
us.
We kneeled next to her on either side.
Held hands.
And prayed. (Stevi)
I can�t hear myself think.
Sirens are blaring.
People are screaming.
I can�t see
through the dust and smoke.
The emergency responder volunteer card
is so much useless plastic
burning a hole in my pocket.
Through tears and coughs I struggle
towards the light
amidst the crowds.
I stop as people brush by.
Fear gnaws at my gut,
but I can�t go yet.
I turn around and run back
up the stairs.
My friends are still up there. (Brett)
I step onto the bus
and am transported.
Transported
to the cries of a previously unknown
land
back east.
The bus chugs around the windy roads,
shifting gears between the words
planes hit � no
planes crashed
The country
shifting fears.
This unknown feeling starts bubbling
within me as we weave
in and out of signal
and newscast reports.
The bus steering
in and out of valleys,
collecting a small community of
children.
It has been a long time since this
town�s eyes
have shifted beyond
its wooded borders. (Kirsten)
I saw a plane,
a building, smoke,
crumbling�
I wake up.
I�m already late.
I run to school.
The classroom is silent.
Mrs. Wollerbeeke
is standing in
front of the board.
She is speaking in a serious tone.
Something�s wrong.
She writes something on the board.
A writing assignment? I thought.
Not exactly.
She wants us to write a letter
giving our condolences to the families
of people who died in the crash.
�What crash?� I thought.
I asked a classmate,
�What�s she mean? �
I didn�t understand.
We wrote our letters,
however, I had no idea what to say.
What could I say?
What was I supposed to say?
We proceeded to our vocabulary lesson.
�Nonchalant�
new word of the day.
When I got home the TV was on.
My parents and sister were watching.
�What�s going on?� I asked.
�You haven�t heard!
There was a terrorist attack in New
York.
It�s all over the news,� my mom said.
�Yeah, I heard all about it at school.
Our teacher had us write about it in
class.�
�Well, it�s serious,� she said.
I didn�t know what to say.
What I supposed to feel?
I sat down and saw the smoke,
the plane, and the fire that engulfed
the building.
Was this real?
My mom seemed on edge.
In response to my complacency, she said
bitterly,
�You�re acting so nonchalant.
�Hey, I said proudly.
I learned that word at school today.�
--My mom shook her head indifferently.
�She�s too young to understand,� my dad
said.
I had no idea what that meant. (Samantha)