Remembering 9/11

The 20th anniversary of 9/11 also marked the closing performance of Cymbeline. So much has happened at APT since that clear day in September – a little over 3000 performances, a new theater, a renovation, the list goes on. But an email we received brought many of us here back to that day 20 years ago. We thought it worth sharing with you.  

To Whom it Concerns,

I am trying to recreate my memories of my experience on 9/11/2001 and I'm almost certain that my 5th grade class was at one of your productions on that fateful day. The 5th grade class from Eastside elementary school from Sun Prairie. I don't know if you'd have any record of a performance on that day or whether we went to it. I may be crazy, but it is my recollection that's where I was on that day, if you could confirm that there was a performance that day, whether it got cancelled or whether you can confirm such a class was there at that time.

Anything you could provide would be appreciated!

Hello, and thanks for your email

We did have a student matinee at APT the morning of September 11 – a 10:30 am performance of As You Like It. Unfortunately, our ticket records don’t go back that far in that much detail, so I can’t confirm if your school was there. But I can tell you the school has a record in our ticketing system. I can't tell you for absolute certain, but it seems quite possible you were here. Here are some memories from some of our company members that were around then and now.

From Brian Mani, actor and Core Company member who played Jacques:

We did perform the show that morning. We met at half hour, as I recall, and discussed whether or not we should do it. We had no way of knowing how many of the students knew what was going on, what had happened. Some schools were coming from quite a distance, this was before we had all the media available at our fingertips. The consensus was that if they knew or not, we would provide them a performance. It was a memorable show that morning.

From Carey Cannon, now Associate Artistic Director who played Phoebe

I think of this every year on 9/11, Michael (Huftile, Carey’s husband) and I driving in from our housing in Dodgeville listening to the radio, trying to reach family and friends on the cell phone, hours and hours of not knowing. Getting up the hill to backstage and deciding to go ahead, gathering that evening up the hill for a vigil, didn’t Jimmy (Jim DeVita) write something for us? I don’t remember the show at all, just being backstage trying to get news…

I do remember the discussion that we couldn’t know what those kids were aware of, so different in terms of connective technology and that we didn’t have the support staff to share that info with 1000 kids not knowing who had family that might be affected and that taking the time to tell a story together in the woods might be the best thing we could do for all of us.

From Brian Mani:

We did have a candlelight vigil in the wood chips that night, or a night later. Jimmy did write something. I read it right after the curtain call on that Friday night, after a performance of Ring Round the Moon.

From Jim DeVita, Core Company member and director:

Did a little searching. Didn’t think I still had it.

We wanted to say something tonight to honor the lives of those that were taken from us this week, to remember them and their families in our thoughts. But what can we say? Language seems so inadequate.

We’ve come together here this evening and laughed—and rightfully so; we needed to laugh tonight, in defiance if nothing else. One of the amazing things about theater is that we gather together as individuals to experience a seemingly very simple event: a story, a tale told by a few people to a lot of people. But once we sit in these seats, touching elbows with strangers, sitting in the midst of people we don't know—people who are different from us in every way that people can possibly be different—something magical happens: we find ourselves no longer individuals, but transformed into something else: an audience, a gathering of listeners, one might even say a family for an evening. For a few hours, we’re no longer strangers to each other. And we find ourselves suddenly free to reveal some of the most intimate emotions we have: we laugh spontaneously with the couple next to us, or we cry, or feel moved, or get angry. We lose ourselves into the larger event of the moment. The world widens for us. And we become directly affected by the people around us.

And that's what's happening now. Everywhere. People are gathering together in places of worship, on street corners, or in front of TVs, with strangers who no longer feel like strangers. And not always to say something. Sometimes just to be quiet and listen for a little while. Events like this tend to still us. They stop our lives for a moment--they seem to stop the earth--and we gather, and listen. We become an audience to the story of our world--and we laugh together, or cry together, or get angry together.

What can we say tonight?

We can speak well of these people. These before-now-strangers. We can remember them with fondness and with laughter as we would a family member—for indeed they are that. We can celebrate their lives. We can pray for them and their families in whatever way we pray. We can try and be worthy of the sacrifice they made—however that may show up in our lives.

We can tell their stories.

Please join us for a moment of silence.

From Colleen Madden, Core Company member who played Celia.

I remember, that morning, before getting to the theater, watching the planes crash into the towers on television. My roommate here at the time and I had both left New York to come to American Players Theatre for one season. We were terrified and shocked, and we drove to the theater to get ready for the show, but we thought “Surely, the show will be canceled. We are all too fragile, too aware of a seismic change in our world, to perform Shakespeare for kids.” However, when we got there, when we saw the buses and buses and buses of kids, and realized this might be the last lovely thing to remember for a while, we all agreed that the best use of our skills, our art, was to give that gift to the kids.

From Brenda DeVita, Artistic Director (she was casting & company development director at the time)

I remember calling Sheldon (Wilner, the managing director at the time) that morning and saying “are you watching the news?” He then asked me to go to APT (as he didn’t do early mornings) and see how everyone was doing up the hill. I saw that the kids had no idea as they got off the buses. We circled up backstage and collectively decided to give those kids one last morning without 9/11. I could not have been prouder of you all. It was divine.