Disastrous September – A Novel on 9/11 Terrorist Attacks Part-6

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Front Cover Disastrous September

In memory of the 2981 victims of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, among them three Albanians: Frrok Camaj, Mon Gjonbalaj and Simon Dedvukaj

[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]

Darkness had fallen, and Terminal B swarmed with passengers, waiting to board their flights. Sokol Kama felt tired so at 6 PM, he and Fatie decided to go home. Fatie lived in Dorchester, a suburb of Boston. Sokol offered her a ride since it was on the way to Quincy where he lived. They were about to leave when out of nowhere, Gary appeared.

“You’re leaving already, and at the busiest time of day?” he asked.

“We’ve been here since 5 this morning, a total of 13 hours,” said Sokol. “Tomorrow we will do it again.”

“I know,” said Gary. “But don’t you realize that if you go home now, that leaves just eight security personnel?”

“That’s how many there normally are,” said Fatie.

“I know, but the airline managers have been complaining more and more lately. They want at least ten at each checkpoint, so please, can you stay for another hour? At least finish with the British Airways passengers. That manager complains the most.”

Sokol and Fatie stole a quick glance at each other.

“You’ll earn five hours overtime just for today. Imagine if you worked overtime every day! If you work another hour, I’ll write off two. What do you say?”

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Courtesy: Berkeley News

“Mr. Minke, we work because we need the money,” said Sokol. “We have to pay the rent and other bills. Everything is expensive nowadays.”

“That’s why I’m telling you to work.”

“We are,” said Fatie, “but we need a break sometimes. A few minutes ago, I almost fell asleep standing up.”

“I understand,” said Gary, “but just for today, work one more hour.”

“Then we want a raise,” said Sokol. “You know we have a difficult job. We have to stay alert. People quit every day simply because they are overworked and underpaid.”

Gary forced a smile.

“Last year, I increased your pay from $7 to $8 an hour. All I’m asking is for you to stay one more hour. I will pay you double.”

Sokol and Fatie decided to stay an extra hour.

“Did you hear him, Fatie? Double!”

“Like he’s going to pay us out of his own pocket. He charges the company $18 an hour, and we only make $8 an hour. I can’t get another job even if I wanted to. I just came to the US, and my English is not that good. It’s different for you. You’re a journalist so your English is especially good, much better than mine. You could get another job.”

Sokol nodded. They could not talk anymore because of the long line of passengers leaving for London. Fatie examined each bag on her screen, careful not to miss anything suspicious. Sokol stood by the conveyor belt. As a passenger in a beige suit put his bag on the belt, an alarm sounded. By now, Fatie understood the system. Gray indicated regular items while blue indicated metal objects. She paid particular attention to the metal items as they could be weapons. She saw a metal object in the passenger’s bag but was not sure if it was a small knife. She called Sokol over and asked him to check the bag.  Fatie pointed to the metal object on the screen.

“I think it’s a rather long knife,” said Sokol.

As the passenger prepared to pick up his bag, Sokol asked to see it. The passenger seemed a little surprised but said, “Of course.”

Sokol reached into the bag and found a beautiful, handcrafted silver knife in a box.

“This is a special knife, a gift for my friend in London,” said the passenger with a smile. “I don’t think it poses any danger.”

911-timeline_HD_1104x622-16x9Sokol closed his eyes and said, “I’m afraid it does. This is no ordinary knife, but it’s a knife, and is longer than the maximum size allowed.”

“But look at it. It’s so dull you couldn’t cut a piece of bread with it let alone kill someone.”

This was not the first time Sokol had had to deal with this kind of problem and this type of passenger.

“You’re right. This knife poses no danger, but as I’m sure you know, the FAA considers it a dangerous object. Even toys which look like weapons are prohibited, since they can cause confusion.”

“Toys?”

“Yes, Sir. You can’t tell the difference between toy weapons and real ones. It’s a precaution. In some cases, terrorists have threatened passengers, pilots, and flight attendants with toy guns.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Go to the person who checked your bag, tell them about the knife, and fill out a form. As soon as you land in London and turn in the form, your bag and knife will be returned to you.”

“All this fuss over a knife!” said the passenger, annoyed. He did not like the idea of having to go back to where he had checked his luggage. Meanwhile, the line of passengers grew longer and longer.

“When I come back, do I have to go through security again?” asked the passenger, looking at the other passengers who by this time had grown tired of waiting.

“We’ll recheck you as soon as you come back.”

“You have to recheck my bag!” said the passenger, surprised.

“Yes, sir. This is the last checkpoint before you board the aircraft.”

“Why do you have to recheck me?”

“Because, sir, you could go back, get a weapon, and board the plane. Therefore, you have to go through screening again.”

The passenger was about to say something else but changed his mind and left the checkpoint. Sokol breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at Fatie who couldn’t wait to finish her shift. She was so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open. Suddenly, she spotted a small gun in one of the bags she was screening. It must be a toy, she thought, remembering Sokol’s conversation with a passenger, but out of curiosity, she stopped the conveyor belt.

“Screen check!” she called. She was simply following the rules. Sokol came and looked at the screen.

“This can’t be a gun,” he said, “but I’ll check it anyway.”

Just then, someone called out, “Congratulations!” reached into his pocket, and took out a badge.

“My name is Jay Clement. I’m an FAA inspector. You did great. This was a test, and you passed. Could you tell me your name, please?”

“Fatie Bashri,” said Fatie.

She could hear her heart pounding. The redheaded inspector removed a small book from his pocket and wrote down her name.

“I want to congratulate you again,” he said. Then turning to Sokol, he said, “I want to congratulate you, too. You did a great job and you both were very attentive. You are good employees, and we are happy to know we have people like you taking care of our passengers and protecting the public from even the most skilled terrorists.”

As Jay was writing Sokol’s and Fatie’s names in his book, Gary joined them.

“Congratulations, Fatie,” he said, shaking her hand. “You’ll get $25 from me and $25 from British Airways for your good work. $50 is nothing to sneeze at.”

Fatie was happy, and Sokol smiled. He was proud of her. Fatie, however, didn’t think she had done anything extraordinary. She was simply doing her job.

“It’s time the Faa change its regulations,” said Sokol.

Jay Clement was listening and said, “I don’t understand. You mean you want to change the regulations followed at all airports nationwide?”

Sokol and Jay stepped aside so other passengers could get through.

“First of all, I think small objects like scissors and pocket knives should be prohibited since they are dangerous,” said Sokol.

“You think they’re dangerous?” asked Jay.

“Yes,” said Sokol.

“I agree objects like the hammer, carried by an earlier passenger, shouldn’t be allowed under any circumstances, but how could a pocket knife, shorter than 2 inches, pose any danger? It can’t cut through a person’s heart.”

“Maybe not a person’s heart, but certainly a person’s throat.”

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Courtesy: USA Today

The inspector laughed and said, “I appreciate your concern, but I can’t say I agree with you. Terrorists have never used small objects as weapons and if they did, they would fail. Anyone could fight a small weapon. For instance, if an older person or a flight attendant saw a passenger with a small pocket knife, they could easily grab it from the assailant, and even if they couldn’t, they would only get scratched, no big deal. The passenger would be caught immediately. Who would hijack a plane with an object the size of a finger? That will never happen. Do you have any other suggestions?”

Read: What Ignited but was not Extinguished – Poetry from Albania

Sokol heard the arrogance and sarcasm in Jay’s voice.

“My colleagues and I also think passengers should take off their shoes and put them on the conveyor belt.”

“Take off their shoes!” Jay cried.  “But why?”

“Because small knives fit in a thick sole.”

“Walking with a knife in one’s shoe would be virtually impossible.”

“But terrorists could carry explosives in their shoes.”

“And do what? Blow themselves up with the plane?”

“I think glass bottles and perfumes should be prohibited as well.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Terrorists could break them, use them as weapons, or fill them with different types of gases.”

Jay looked at Sokol.

“You may be right about glass bottles, but not about perfume bottles. Anyway, I appreciate your suggestions and will discuss them with my superiors.”

“I appreciate that.”

As soon as Jay left, someone tapped Sokol on the shoulder. At first, he thought it was a passenger, but when he turned around, he was surprised to see Gary.

“I overheard part of your conversation with Jay,” he said. “Why in the world did you make those suggestions: no small knives, no bottles, not this, not that? Do you think you’re smarter than the people who make the rules? Let me be clear: do your job and follow the rules. Nothing more. Do you understand?”

Read: The Stone City – Poetry from Albania

“What if the terrorists hijack a plane with the items I mentioned?”

“Sokol, please, just do your job and pay attention like Fatie. Don’t make people like Jay come and test you on small objects which could be used as weapons because, thank God, that doesn’t happen often. Be careful. You don’t want to lose your job, right? If that happened, I couldn’t help you. Besides, a lot of people are looking for this kind of work and are willing to work for less than eight dollars an hour. I repeat, follow the rules. The rest is of no concern to you.”

Gary wanted to say more, but Sokol stopped him.

“Mr. Minke, you asked me to work an extra hour, and I’ve been here over an hour. I’m very tired and would like to leave. If you have anything else to tell me, I’ll be back here at five AM tomorrow. Good night.”

Gary approached Fatie and insisted she stay another hour. Of course, he told her, she would get paid double.

Sokol saw her nod in agreement even though she was as tired as he was. (Continues)

Click here for Part-1Part-2Part-3Part-4, Part-5

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About the Author

Skifter Kellici -Albanian-American writerSkifter 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.

Read: The Light of Survival – Poetry from Albania

 

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