(CNN) -- What brings people to the theater? For many, it's the magical moments on the stage.
Marc Routh of New York sees it all as magical: "You go and sit in a room with a lot of strangers, they turn off the lights, you're part of a community -- you're laughing and crying with the other people. And it's a live experience. You're actually influencing what's happening on the stage. There's an energy there you can find nowhere else."
But even he remembers a particular moment of magic, September 12, 2001, the day after the terrorist bombing of the World Trade Center. All the shows had been canceled on Broadway, but Routh, a long-time producer, decided to go ahead with a European production of "Carmen" at City Center, done with Flamenco dancing.
"We agreed to give away the entire house, 3,000 tickets," Routh said. The show went on; the theater was completely filled.
"Everybody was so happy to see that show," Routh said. "You were with other human beings, concentrating on somebody else's story, somebody else's problems."
We asked theatergoers to share the magical moments they witnessed on a stage. Below is a selection of their responses, some of which have been edited for length and clarity.
Robert Frankwick of Concord, North Carolina
I was watching a production of "Hair" at the Aquarius Theater in Los Angeles in 1970 (I believe), when, in the scene after the number "Electric Blues," which had strobe light flashes and lots of activity, it BEGAN TO RAIN on the stage. This was not an outdoor theater. It was raining indoors.
Someone came on stage, stopped the music, asked for the house lights and had the side doors to the theater opened. He then asked the patrons to exit the theater calmly. Nobody moved.
Eventually the rain stopped and soon thereafter men dressed as firemen came through the doors.
It ultimately became clear that the heat from the lights in the Electric Blues number had set off the fire sprinkler system. Because there had previously been so much spoofing involving the audience, all of us believed this was just part of the show. The place could have burned down about our heads and the audience would probably have clapped and shouted "COOL!"
Doris Appelbaum of Glendale, Wisconsin
Many years ago, I attended a live performance of "Private Lives" in Chicago. The play starred Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. My seats were in a box overlooking the stage. About halfway through the play, something tickled Elizabeth Taylor and she went off into gales of laughter. The more Burton paced and ad libbed, the more she laughed. Soon the entire audience (a full house) was laughing. Eventually she composed herself, and seconds later they both went right back into character, as if nothing had ever happened. As an avid theatergoer, I marveled at the professionalism of those two after the "moment."
Richard Burton died shortly after that performance. They would never get to perform together again.
Vicki Fleming of Murfreesboro, Tennessee
Seeing a live performance of Yul Brynner in "The King And I."
Carol Wright of Mountain View, California
A few summers while in college, I worked as a costume assistant with the California Shakespeare Festival, then located in Los Gatos, California. It was July 20, 1969, and we were in early dress rehearsals for "King Lear," who was being played by a young David Ogden Stiers. (Most would know him as Colonel Winchester of "Mash.")
The director, James Dunn, devised the novel approach of having the performers behave like a band of cavemen, grunting and stomping with their spears. Lear sweeps in, center stage, his wolf skin cape swirling behind him.
At that moment, we were supposed to hear Lear saying: "Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. Give me the map there." But on this particular day, Stiers strode strongly to center stage and announced, in character, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have landed on the moon."
Alfred Papillon of Jennings, Louisiana
"Camelot" staring Richard Burton in New Orleans, Louisiana. My first live play.
Nicholas Bartell of Norman, Oklahoma
The most magical moment I have experienced in the theater was my high school's production of Les Miserables. I remember hearing the music for the first time and my heart nearly exploding out of my chest.
Barry Schiffer of Columbia, Maryland
Number one would have to be sitting in the front row of "Cats" and having various characters come over and do a remarkable impression of a cat staring at my wife from about one foot in front her face.
Terrie Brookins of Oshawa, Ontario
My high school band marched in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade in November, 1990. Days before the big march we all went to see "Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway. I was utterly transported. I screamed as the chandelier shook. My skin broke out in goosebumps as Christine sang under the Phantom's spell. I gasped in awe as Raoul jumped from an incredible height into the sewers to rescue Christine. My brain nearly overloaded as I watched the beautifully dressed actors sing and dance in "Masquerade." To this day I can find peace in humming snippets of "All I Ask of You." It was a magical night that changed me into a person who can see beauty, love and sacrifice in a single note sung or a sad smile. I'll never forget that night -- even if I can't remember the exact date and time or who the actors were at the time.
Toby Cohantz of Carlsbad, California
One of the most imaginative and memorable pieces of theater I have ever seen was called "The Coyote Cycle" by Murray Mednick, based on Native American stories. The entire play took place outdoors, outside the Paramount Ranch near Los Angeles. It started at sunset and went until sunrise the next morning. The stories were wonderful parables of modern-day discontentment told in seven different acts; we walked as a group from one staging area to another. A very striking moment occurred just as the sun was rising when a gigantic waterfall (created by letting loose a water tower up on a hillside) suddenly poured down in front of us lit by colored lights. In the end we were left with the hope of a new day and a new beginning. I ran into one of the actors many years later and we connected over the play like we were old friends.
Douglas Elsbree of Rochester, New York
When the helicopter lands on stage during Miss Saigon.
Larry Heyman of Houston, Texas
I worked for 11 years as a professional prop man in theater, but surprisingly, my most memorable moment was from a college production of "Our Town" at the University of Illinois. At the end of the play, George is visiting Emily's grave. The actress playing Emily sits in a folding chair and watches him approach, he pauses and puts his coat over her shoulders as one might drape a headstone, he then sits on the floor, rests his head on her lap and cries. She crouches over him, and she begins to cry as well, silent, heaving sobs. I consider myself fairly jaded after spending years in darkened theatres, but when I remember the simple beauty of that scene, I get chills. I know the play is so overdone but to this day, this particular production of this particular American classic resonates with me.
Andrew Rothman of Cleveland Heights, Ohio
I've had so many memorable moments in Cleveland area theatre that it's hard to pick one. Northeast Ohio has one of the richest community and professional theatre scenes I've ever found; we have more live theaters within driving distance than some places have movie theaters. I've been involved with Chagrin Valley Little Theatre since I was a kid -- it's one of the country's oldest community theaters -- and have seen all sorts of amazing things happen there, like the cast performing "The Mikado" outside on the sidewalk during a power outage. I've also seen some incredible professional theater around here, such as Beth Hart's electrifying performance as Janis Joplin in Cleveland Playhouse's "Love, Janis."
Don Devine of White Plains, New York
Jennifer Holliday singing "I'm Not Going" in the original Broadway production of "Dreamgirls."
Josh Newell of Durham, North Carolina
I was 12 years old when my parents dragged me and my brothers to the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C. to see "Starlight Express." Now, the last thing I cared about was some family outing in a cramped car to the nation's capital to see a MUSICAL. All I knew about musicals was that the girls seemed to like them. I figured the only cool thing about the trip was sure to be the visit to the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum.
But I was wrong. I was amazed by the lights, the action, even the music and singing.
I know now that there was nothing about this particular production worthy of acclaim from a critic's viewpoint. It was more roller derby than acting. I've since had many memorable moments in the theater -- tremendous productions of "Sarafina!," "True West," and many renditions of Shakespeare's finest --- but it was that one night of "Starlight Express" that meant the most to me because it was the moment that kicked off my affection for the stage.