Front of House: Observations from a Decade on the Aisle by Denise Reich Read Free Book Online Page B

seating there, because it meant that I had to navigate those steps myself.
    It isn’t always possible to find a satisfactory solution for everyone on this issue, unfortunately. There really isn’t any way to make a balcony level in a theater that isn’t high above the ground. There isn’t any way to ensure that every patron will be okay with heights. Acrophobia is a problem that Broadway ushers and customers will be handling now and forever, to quote Cats.

9/13

    On September 13, 2001, I got on the bus to go to work. I was dressed in black, as per usual, and I had an American flag ribbon on my shirt.
    After the attacks on the World Trade Center, Broadway theaters stayed closed for three performances: the evening show on Tuesday, September 11 and both matinee and evening on Wednesday, September 12. On Thursday, all productions resumed performances.
    The only people on the express bus with me were the driver and one of the first responders. A lot of businesses were still closed, and nobody who lived in the Tri-State area was going into Manhattan unless they absolutely, positively had to do so. As we drove through midtown, everyone was quiet. We didn’t need to talk about what had happened; we’d all witnessed it.
    Since I worked nights, I’d been home and sleeping when the first plane hit the Twin Towers. A frantic phone call from my aunt had woken me up. Our apartment was several miles due north of the World Trade Center, and I could see the Towers from my bedroom windows. I’d spent the day numbly looking out those windows at the smoke billowing from the buildings and fielding calls from concerned out-of-town friends and relatives.
    My mother, who worked in the Village, came home on 9/11 with ashes in her hair. It could have been far worse. She’d originally planned to shop in the mall below the World Trade Center that morning, which would have put her at Ground Zero at a very bad time. Thankfully, she’d changed her mind and gone straight to work, further uptown, instead.
    The Theater District was silent and calm, and heavy smoke hung over the deserted streets. When I alit from the bus I nearly gagged; the stench in the air went right down my throat. It was an indescribable mix of fuel, chemicals, burning flesh and smoke. I know I will never forget it. Neither will anyone else, I’d imagine. If you talk to any New Yorker who was in town on 9/11, that stench is probably one the first things they’ll mention to you. I’ve heard some people describe it as the smell of death; that’s very accurate, in my opinion. It lingered around Times Square, reminding all of us of what had occurred downtown.
    I was working at the Cort Theatre at If You Ever Leave Me…I’m Coming With You, a comedic play written and performed by the husband and wife team of Joseph Bologna and Renée Taylor. The house manager immediately called a meeting with the staff. We gathered in a circle, solemn and quiet. There was nothing to say. Some of us had experienced 9/11 more directly than others, but we were all numb and horrified. My friend Sheila, who was also steady at the Cort at the time, worked downtown during the day. Just as my mother, she’d had to run for her life. The house manager stared back, as shocked as the rest of us, and then cleared his throat and told us about the security measures they were adding to the theater. Security on Broadway was already tight; now it was going to be Fort Knox.
    I don’t remember what the count was that evening, but I’d be surprised if we had more than a hundred people. Who came to see a Broadway comedy three days after a national disaster? Well, for one thing, there were a lot of tourists trapped in Times Square. The airports were still closed, so anyone who was in the city on vacation or business was essentially stuck there for the time being. There were also many people who lived in Hell’s Kitchen or the Garment District and couldn’t go anywhere. Whatever the reason for their presence, the