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Cannonball Read III: That Day in September by Artie Van Why

By Sara H. | Posted Under Book Reviews | Comments (7)



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Grief and patriotism are personal, not a pissing contest. No one else can tell you how to feel when a momentous event occurs, and in the event of a national tragedy, snark is disrespectful to those personally involved. Artie Van Why contacted me a couple of months ago about reviewing his book That Day in September. “I lived in New York City for 26 years and I worked across from the World Trade Center. I was there in the streets the morning of 9/11,” he said “All along this endeavor has been, one, my way of processing and working through that experience. And secondly, and to me more importantly, it is my personal contribution to assuring we never forget that day. That Day In September is my personal tribute to honor those who died that day.”

Normally, political books are not my field, and one would think that any book dealing with 9/11 would feel political, but Van Why’s book does not discuss national policy or even much of the larger picture surrounding the event. Adapted from a one-man show he performed in Los Angeles and Off-Broadway, his approach is entirely in the memoir field. When so many people have their memory of the towers tied up in television, Van Why felt the ground shake firsthand, and it’s entirely reasonable that he would want to get his story out there.

The man who had been running behind me from my right reached me and stopped. I turned to ask, “What do we do?” and was aware of someone falling on top of a pile of clothes just across the plaza. It took an instant to register that it wasn’t a pile of clothes. The person had fallen on a pile of bodies that were already lying there. I stood and stared as one body after another fell.

After the second plane hit, Van Why found himself running up the street with other people, some falling over each other, others crawling beneath cars to avoid the falling debris.

Up ahead of me, a man was lying in the middle of Fulton Street. He was a heavyset man in a suit, lying on his stomach. Everyone was running right past him. I started to run past him myself, but for whatever reason, I stopped and ran over to him. I dropped to my knees at his side. It was then I noticed all the blood and where it was coming from. His skull had been split open, and the top part of his brain was protruding through the split. Blood was gushing out of the wound. Amazingly, he was breathing. I saw, lying near him, a putty knife — a regular putty knife that had an even line of blood along its blade. I thought, oh my God, is this what hit him?

This isn’t grief or heroism porn, and I believe Van Why when he says he just wants the details out there as a matter of public record. Self-published in 2003, That Day in September reads like fleshed out emails to those who asked what happened, emails that did indeed lead to the first drafts of his stage script. It’s a slim book, and he dedicates little time to his life before or after 9/11. In some ways, that makes sense, as it keeps the focus on one day. On the other hand, since 9/11 was the day that started Van Why’s process of returning to theater and moving closer to family, I did desire a bit more. If I had been his editor, I would have suggested restructuring and elaborating some portions of his life outside of that day. I would have suggested that the narrative explore more of his personal journey. Given that it was written in 2003, he may have been riding that line of post-traumatic stress recovery, and had just enough time pass for retrospect. I don’t know. I would be curious to know what he thinks of his delivery now, reading his writing eight years later. I suspect that the writing comes across differently in its theatre incarnation, but not having seen it, I can’t say for certain.

Still, for those looking for a firsthand account of 9/11, Van Why contributes an important voice. It is not that our memories of watching tragedy via television are invalid; it’s that they are all very similar. We were going about our business and someone turned on the TV. Me? I was in college, fresh from a walk of shame and the subsequent shower, and there was a message from my roommate’s dad. “Turn on the TV. The world is ending.” There are thousands of stories like mine, and yes, they all contribute to the picture of that day. However, Van Why’s account puts reality into our discomfort. It is one thing to imagine how horrible it must have been, and quite another to escape the horror yourself. That Day in September is not the best written account you will ever read, but it is his story, one that I suspect does not have many like it.

And here we are, a decade later, swimming in a sea of “Anniversary Specials” that run back-to-back on television, prodding at the wounds of those who were there. Some events will provide genuine tribute, and others, a contest to see who can draw out the “best” profit-turning mix of pain and patriotism. And here we are, a decade later, still with a hole in the ground surrounded by red tape. I hope we can do a better job taking care of ourselves than we have. Grief is a long, complicated process, I know, and everyone handles it differently. You and I do not make the rules.


For more of Sara H.’s reviews, check out her blog, Glorified Love Letters.

This review is part of Cannonball Read III. For more information, click here.









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Comments

I'll admit, I watch them all. I watch them in March, in June, whenever anything to do with the WTC is on, including the building of them. I read all the books, I read them again. Why? I don't know.

Let me tell you of my 9-11 experience. I was a stay at home mom at the time and I was cleaning the garage while the kids were at school. I never put on the tv, I never heard the phone. Mr. Kirbyjay finally called me around 1PM and told me " We're being attacked, turn the tv on, the towers have collapsed". I didn't realize that so many had already been evacuated and it had taken place in the morning, so I'm thinking about 20 to 30 thousand people were killed. I actually got nauseous and had to sit down. Then I thought of my kids in school. Should I go get them? What should I do? I stood out on our back deck and a really loud plane went flying over. I heard the noise and thought " are they still attacking"? I then realized it was an Air Force Fighter, and wasn't sure if I was relieved or not.

Anyway, I think I watch all of the coverage because I felt so disconnected to the event. I tend to be very empathetic and I guess it is my way of grieving for the families by paying attention and remembering. I think the sight of people falling from those buildings will haunt me forever and I try not to watch those parts. It still breaks my heart 10 years later.

On a side note, I did a charter yesterday and a man got on the bus and said "a moment of silence for 9-11. I was just about to bow my head and then he kind of chuckled and sat down. I wanted to slap him. There will never be a time to joke about that day.

Posted by: kirbyjay at September 12, 2011 10:05 AM

I watched a show on cbc a couple of months ago about the "heroes" of 9/11...The men and women that sifted through the still smoking rubble for days on end after the attacks searching for victims and cleaning up the mess.
The show focused on how quickly these "heroes" were forgotten by the government once their political value wore off and by the insurance companies and government when it came time to truly reward these people for their service.
It told the sad story of how many of these people are chronically or terminally ill now due to exposure to airborne toxins at Ground Zero.
Sadder still was the complete lack of attention or in some cases (due to miles of red tape and technicalities) the downright refusal on the parts of big insurance companies and government to help any these people.
I am a cynical person by nature and don't usually need much help being that way. Every day I am surrounded by examples and reasons to support my cynicism toward certain establishments.
I guess what this all boils down to is that it was really hard in the weeks leading up to yesterday, listening to politicians and their ilk praising these "heroes" (and they really are heroes in my book) when in reality they have done nothing to help the majority of them at all...

Posted by: East Coast Ugly at September 12, 2011 11:31 AM

I was also in college and just about to do the walk of shame when my roommate called the dorm I was in and told me "we're being attacked." I still feel guilty in a way that at a time so many people were experiencing an unbelievably horrific nightmare, I was fooling around with a total douchebag in complete ignorance of what was happening.

Posted by: bzzybzz at September 12, 2011 3:02 PM

I was in fifth grade at the time, so I don't really remember much about it. I just remember going to school, and the school being pretty bare already. We just sat in class not doing anything with the teachers. I can't imagine what the teachers were thinking, having to stay there with us as we were picked up one by one by our parents. That's all I remember. Being picked up from school, hearing about it, and my dad not being able to leave the base and come home. That was in Texas.

I want to watch and read all of these first hand accounts, but I can't. I pit grows in my stomach, and it's like I'm eating myself whole, and I shouldn't be trying to live the horrible things these people went through myself. Something happens to me. I was no where near it, but when those smoking towers show up on screen...I think I die a little. I feel like I shouldn't be watching these, or even want to watch these things. I fear I'm completely demented by wanting to know what actually happened. I feel like I'm going to be punished for wanting to know. For watching those people hurl themselves from those towers. It's torture.

Posted by: Candee at September 12, 2011 7:45 PM

Thanks for running my review, 'jiban-showrunners.

And thanks for reading, the rest of you.

Posted by: Sara H at September 12, 2011 8:08 PM

I swear I made a post earlier today but now it isn't here. Hmm, was it deleted? I hope not as there was nothing offensive.

I won't try to write it again but I wanted to tell you Sara that I'm glad you read this book and wrote this review. I was living in New York the day it happened so I lived it all first hand, even though I wasn't down on Wall Street. I spent most of the day yesterday reflecting on my personal experiences (not knowing where my brother-in-law was for hours, thanking God that my husband had recently quit his job across the street from the South Tower) and absorbing the experiences of friends and family from that day. I couldn't handle watching any news coverage yesterday. For me, reading or talking about what happened to other people on that fateful day keeps it real, instead of being just a news story or video played over and over on a loop or from a different angle.

I remember in the weeks and months after the attacks there were days when I would look downtown from my office perch on the 42nd floor in Times Square and think to myself, "Were those buildings even there before? Did they really exist?" Hearing and reading the stories of people like Van Why remind me that it was indeed very real and that individual lives were trasformed and snuffed out in mere seconds.

Posted by: prairiegirl at September 12, 2011 8:43 PM

Sorry. I hope I can read them at some point. I rely on Pajiba a lot on what's a good read.

Posted by: Candee at September 13, 2011 9:31 AM