In memory of the 2981 victims of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, among them three Albanians
[Disastrous September, by the Albanian-American author, Skifter Këlliçi, takes place on two different days: May 10 and September 11, 2001. The novel tells the story of a well-known CNN reporter named Steve Ferguson, engaged to Jacqueline Cramer, a flight attendant based at Logan International Airport in Boston, Massachusetts. In addition, the novel explores the lives of four Albanians. Besim Istrefi, Rrok Camaj, and Marko Muzaka worked as window washers in the Twin Towers. Sokol Kama, a journalist and writer, works in security at Logan International Airport. On September 11, 2001 just a few days before Steve and Jacqueline’s wedding, two planes, bound for Los Angeles, depart from Boston. Terrorists hijack them and crash them into the Twin Towers in New York. The author, who worked at Logan International Airport during the attacks, offers a gripping account of the tragedy and shows how it could have been avoided.]
By SKIFTER KELLICI
[Translated from the Albanian by Carrie Hooper]
When they saw Osama bin Laden, the al Qaeda members, who sat cross-legged on the plain, jumped to their feet, raised their Kalashnikovs, and shouted, “Bin Laden! Bin Laden!”
Bin Laden watched their faces. The majority had beards, but a few had mustaches. Some of the younger men did not yet have facial hair. Turbans covered the people’s burning heads, flaming cheeks, fiery eyes, and innocent lips. They looked at bin Laden as if he were Allah himself, come from heaven to bless them.
Bin Laden’s penetrating eyes shone with pride. He looked to his right, where Khalid Sheik Muhammad sat.
“I have good news for you, my children,” he said, opening his arms. “I just learned that some of our loyal followers, who are now in heaven, took the planes from nonbelieving pilots and destroyed the Twin Towers in New York, the pride of America. Hundreds, I hope to God, even thousands of people were buried alive.”
When the frenzied crowd heard these words, they chanted, “Bin Laden! Bin Laden!”
Their shouts echoed throughout the surrounding hills and mountains.
“We need to thank this man right here,” said bin Laden. “You know who he is.”
“Khalid Sheik Muhammad,” cried voices from the crowd.
“Exactly. Allah helped him give me the idea which brothers like you made a reality.”
Bin Laden raised Khalid’s arm. His eyes darkened as he recalled the night they planned to attack the Twin Towers.
He had remained speechless when Khalid, with his dark, penetrating raven eyes, which fluttered under his thick eyebrows, had told him, in a godly voice, how to proceed. Bin Laden, who understood mathematics, mechanics, and science, had never thought of doing what Khalid proposed. People called him a mastermind, but in fact, Khalid was the mastermind.
“Who do you think you are, you no account, who speak in my name and that of Allah! How dare you incite your followers to kill innocent people in the name of Allah”
Bin Laden beamed with pride.
“My sons, are you ready to follow in their footsteps?” shouted Khalid. “Are you ready to go to heaven with those martyrs? Shouted bin Laden, his eyes so wide they almost burst.
The delirious people raised their Kalashnikovs and cried, “We’re ready! Muhammad has sent you to us! Tell us what we must do to receive our reward!”
“I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I knew you would answer me thus. We will continue our Jihad. We will fight the infidels. We’ll bomb men, women, and children wherever they are: at home, in bed. You will strap bombs to your waists in train stations, bus stations, hotels, anywhere with a lot of people. You’ll blow yourselves up with them. Then, Allah will send you to heaven. Unlike the American and Western European infidels, we love that kind of death more than they love life. So, are you ready to die?”
Voices from the crowd shouted, “Point to us, O great Bin Laden, and we’ll go wherever you want!”
“Choose me!”
“Choose me!”
“Choose all of us!”
The people blushed and drooled, and their eyes seemed to bleed. As the crowd fixed its gaze on Bin Laden, a wave of contentment washed over him.
“Again, I knew you would respond as you did, my sons and sons of Allah, for you follow the teachings of Muhammad, the finest example of an honorable, righteous, and merciful man.”
Suddenly, a speck appeared on one of the many mountain peaks around the wide, green plain. It grew into a sinister figure, that, in a voice like a storm wind roared, “Who do you think you are, you no account, who speak in my name and that of Allah! How dare you incite your followers to kill innocent people in the name of Allah, like those people today …”
Bin Laden froze.
“By distorting the teachings of Islam, which in other languages means peace and understanding, you have committed the worst crime imaginable. The destruction of the Twin Towers didn’t bring peace to the world. You know Allah teaches us to do good and fight evil with every legal means: our hands, our words, and when necessary, swords and fire, but never by killing people who only dreamed of peace and happiness. Repent before it’s too late, you traitor of Islam. Otherwise, Allah will kill you and your followers!”
Bin Laden, who had crouched on the ground, gazed upward, and to his relief, Muhammad had disappeared but he knew his shadow would haunt him until the day he died. He would not go to the heaven he had invented to convince his followers to sacrifice themselves.
Fatie’s words stunned everyone. When she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, she turned and saw Sokol.
“At first, I wanted to grill that narrow-minded businessman,” he said, “but you put him in his place.”
“I owed it to everyone here,” said Fatie.
As she spoke, she saw Sokol’s pale face.
“You don’t look well,” she said.
To be sure, he was wiped out.
“I know how you feel. Even though I’ve only been working here for about a year, I got to know those flight attendants. You knew them and the pilots even longer.”
Sokol closed his eyes.
“Sit down. You need a break.”
As he was walking toward a chair, Gary approached him.
“Congratulations,” he said, forcing a smile. “You made Jay come to you and hang his head in shame.”
Gary’s words disgusted Sokol.
“I understand he apologized to you and said in light of what happened, he should have listened to you when you told him passengers should not be allowed to take pocket knives, bottles, or whatever else on board.”
Sokol’s eye’s darkened. Then, he said in a mocking tone, “Weren’t you the one who tried to stop me the day I was talking to Jay about that very issue? Weren’t you the one who told me to mind my own business?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Gary moved his head in such a way he almost lost his glasses.
“You may not have said those exact words, but you implied them with your condescending tone.”
Gary’s eyes fluttered, and his nostrils twitched.
“Let bygones be bygones,” he said with a yawned. “I plan to give you a raise. As you and other employees have pointed out, eight dollars an hour is too little for such a demanding job. I will discuss this matter with other company bosses. Just make sure we don’t experience another disaster like this one. Are we done then?”
“By distorting the teachings of Islam, which in other languages means peace and understanding, you have committed the worst crime imaginable. The destruction of the Twin Towers didn’t bring peace to the world. You know Allah teaches us to do good and fight evil with every legal means”
“No,” said Sokol. “All you care about is making more and more money. You only hire seven or eight workers for your company’s security checkpoints, not fourteen as the contract stipulates. People have quit because of the bad pay. You mainly hire Albanians because with their limited English, they won’t complain. Isn’t that so?”
Gary’s face looked like that of a corpse. He kept silent.
“If the airlines had been more vigilant, your company would have lost this terminal, and you would have been charged with dereliction of duty.”
Gary wrinkled his lips, but before he could respond, Sokol turned his back and sat in one of the chairs passengers usually sat in when waiting for their flights. He felt his conversation with Gary had been one of the many outrages he had experienced this day. He decided to look for another job. The TV continued to broadcast interviews with experts who tried to determine the cause of this tragedy. In the end, they suspected what everyone already knew: the terrorists had used knives and bottles. But they failed to mention that the FAA, FBI, and other government institutions were also responsible.
“I wonder what Steve’s up to,” Sokol said to himself.
He looked at his watch. It was 12:15. In just five hours, America had been turned on its head.
Sokol dialed Steve’s cell, but hung up immediately. What words of comfort could he offer? (Continues)
Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3, Part-4, Part-5, Part-6, Part-7, Part-8, Part-9, Part-10, Part-11, Part-12, Part-13, Part-14, Part-15, Part-16, Part-17, Part-18, Part-19, Part-20, Part-21, Part-22, Part-23, Part-24,
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About the Author
Skifter Këllici was born in Tirana, Albania and received a diploma in history and literature from the University of Tirana. He worked as a journalist, scholar, and sportscaster on radio and television. He is the author of several novels and nonfiction books, including the children’s books, “Memories of the Old Neighborhood” and “In the Footsteps” as well as the historical novels, “Assassination in Paris”, “The Murderer with the White Hands”, and “September Disaster.” He wrote the screenplay for “In the Footsteps” which won a special prize at the International Children’s Film Festival in Giffoni, Italy in 1979. He has lived in Boston, Massachusetts since 1999.
About the Translator
Carrie Hooper was born and raised in Elmira, New York. She has been blind since birth. She received a B.A. in vocal performance from Mansfield University, Mansfield, Pennsylvania. She went on to receive an M.A. in German and an M.A. in vocal performance from the State University of New York at Buffalo. After completing her studies, she spent a year at the Royal University College of Music in Stockholm, Sweden as a Fulbright scholar. Carrie currently lives in Elmira, New York. She taught German, Italian, and Romanian at Elmira College. She has a passion for foreign languages and in addition to the languages mentioned above, she is also proficient in Swedish, Spanish, and Albanian. Music also plays an important role in Carrie’s life. She teaches voice and piano lessons, gives vocal concerts, plays the piano and organ at a church, and sings in a community chorus. Carrie not only loves music and languages, but also enjoys poetry. She has published three books: “Piktura në fjalë” (“Word Paintings”), a bilingual collection of poetry (Albanian-English), “My Life in My Words”, and “Away from Home.” She has also translated texts from Albanian and Romanian to English.
[The book ‘Disastrous September is being reproduced in episodes with the consent of the author]
