Picture courtesy AP.
Roughly four hours before show time, one of the world's worst disasters unfolded on the streets of New York City and Washington, DC, and in the open fields of rural western Pennsylvania, after 19 militant Islamic fundamentalists hijacked four commercial airplanes and used them to create mass destruction--a fiery Armageddon that would bring terrorism to Americans' front door and keep it on the front page.
Courtesy AP.
Though it was the start of the work day in Manhattan, it was early evening in Tuscany, where Sting had invited 200 guests, a number of special-guest musicians, and reassembled his Brand New Day band and even brought back some familiar faces--such as backing vocalist Janice Pendarvis. The audience, including Sting fan club members and worldwide contest winners, had already started funneling in when news of the World Trade Center collapse was reported.
Courtesy TIME.
Sting, who owns a home near Central Park and has many ties to Manhattan, including friend Herman Sandler who perished on September 11, was clearly in a fix. Could he, should he call off the performance and send the well-traveled audience and technical crews back home? Clearly, that was one of his options, and one that he reportedly labored over. But would he do it? Did the situation warrant it?
Courtesy AOL.
According to the report by "a grateful fan" at Sting.com, many of the audience members felt that canceling the event would be tantamount to capitulation to the terrorists. Perhaps those audience members were Israelis, Afghanis, or Europeans who had felt the sting of Islamic fundamentalist terror. Or perhaps they were Sting fans who were content to consider the thousands buried beneath the rubble half a world away after Sting's performance. Honestly, I would have felt the same. Tragedy can wait, I might have thought to myself. Let me enjoy a bit of happiness first.
"This was to be a very joyous occasion tonight," Sting said. "Because of the horrific events of today, it simply can’t be a joyous occasion." He said he had three choices: insist that the show must go on, do nothing, or make a compromise. His compromise was to sing one song--"Fragile"--as a memorial to those who had lost their lives on that dark day in history. He politely insisted on no applause afterward, but rather a moment of silence to ponder the fragility of life. And computer monitors around the world faded to black.
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Go To Page: 1 2
