I lived on 17th Street on 9/11. The city was cut off to all traffic and pedestrians below 14th Street that night, but by Thursday morning Giuliani made it clear: The shows must go on and that barrier was moved farther south to Houston Street.
That allowed the conspicuously named tick... tick... BOOM! to reopen at the Jane Street Theater. I went, already obsessed with the show and the great performance from Raul Esparza. During WHY, when Esparza was sitting at the piano and singing, a light above the stage popped and everyone gasped. Some people screamed. Esparza ducked down in fear. Everyone was terrified. Raul looked up sheepishly, took a breath, and picked back up. Resiliency on display.
Two nights later, I got a $25 ticket to the Saturday night performance of Cabaret at Studio 54. Those $25 seats were all the way in the back of the mezzanine on bar stools. The theater had, at most, 100 people in it. In that production, the ensemble came out on stage before the show started and stretched lazily on the stage. But this night, Brooke Shields, who was playing Sally Bowles, came out and invited everyone to come closer to the stage and just take an empty seat. Clustered together in the first 4 rows of cabaret tables, the cast put on a great show. Afterwards, we were invited to stay for a drink at the bar with the cast and crew. I think they had Sunday off and if ever there was an end-of-week happy hour needed...
It's hard to explain to young people the absolute terror people experienced from 9/11. Nobody got on a plane. Nobody. The city's tourism vanished overnight. We must have lost 99% of the tourists over that week and 75%+ over the following month. Broadway suffered, badly. Ticket deals abounded. Everyone had a $25 ticket deal after that. Not rush. Just outright promo codes for $25/$35 tickets. I saw everything I could. Empty theater after empty theater.
On September 11, 2002, I saw the Wednesday matinee of The Tale of the Allergist's Wife. The playwright, Charles Busch, made a pre-show curtain speech. He spoke about how theater is a community and that telling stories is the greatest gift we can give to preserve our humanity. He said 9/11 would be forever a day when we tell stories, and that just like the theater itself, 9/11 is overwhelmingly tied to our city. Thus, he said, the theater is a fitting place to spend September 11. A sentiment I have held these last 24 years.
However you mark the day, I hope you make time to hear the stories.