Transcript
Carol Rosenberg (0:00)
New York Times games make me feel like I'm amazing. Wordle makes me feel things that I don't feel from anyone else.
John Ryan (0:06)
I absolutely love spelling bee.
Carol Rosenberg (0:09)
The Times crossword puzzle is a companion that I've had longer than anyone outside of my immediate family. When I can finish a hard puzzle without pins, I feel like the smartest person in the world. When I have to look up a clue to help me, I'm learning something new. It gives me joy every single day.
John Ryan (0:25)
Join us and play all New York.
Carol Rosenberg (0:27)
Times games@nytimes.com games.
Sarah Koenig (0:33)
Previously on Serial. Our mission today is to provide safe.
Carol Rosenberg (0:37)
Humane, legal and transparent custody of the detainees here.
Dana (0:40)
Safe, legal, transparent, care little mini mart.
Sarah Koenig (0:45)
Real quick on this side.
Carol Rosenberg (0:46)
It's just a small one, just to get if you want a snack or something.
Sarah Koenig (0:49)
They also have souvenirs there, but you'll have another.
Carol Rosenberg (0:52)
This is something that they would never have made public. But the day of the riot, morale was never higher.
Sarah Koenig (1:00)
How are we going to basically explain.
Carol Rosenberg (1:02)
We let this happen? From Serial Productions in the New York Times. This is Serial Season four. Guantanamo one prison camp told week by week. I'm Sarah Koenig. We're going to jump forward to present day Guantanamo Now. Ish for the rest of this series. I'm going to start in summer of 2022 when Dana and I went down to Guantanamo a second time. Media can't tour the prison compound anymore, but you can go down to report on the special court at Guantanamo called the Military commissions. Five cases are still in some phase of criminal prosecution, including the case against the men accused of planning the 911 attacks. So we went to the court, which we'd never seen in action before. Two other reporters are there with us. John Ryan from a legal affairs publication called Law Dragon, and Carol Rosenberg, formerly of the Miami Herald, now of the New York Times. Carol's been covering Guantanamo for more than 20 years. She's the one to watch here. You can't bring any recording equipment into the courtroom, so I don't have tape for this part. I'll just tell it. Army soldiers are checking us through security at the entrance to the court. They tell us, no, you cannot bring your coffee into the spectators gallery. This doesn't seem unreasonable to me. Lots of courtrooms don't allow beverages. But Carol pushes back. Is that a new rule? Carol asks why? Can someone go ask why? Once we're inside, before we even take our seats, drama begins. Not inside the actual courtroom, mind you, where the lawyers and defendants and judges will soon be, but in our section the gallery. I'm standing with Carol at the thick glass windows that separate us from the courtroom. She's explaining to me what's what when an Army MP in charge of security, a guard, tells us to sit down, which does seem unreasonable. Court hasn't even started. There's no one here, but usually the guard is stern and excessively bossy. We've always been able to stand at the glass. Before court begins, Carol says, is that a new rule? No answer. Carol sits in her assigned seat. They've got all us reporters in the front row, but separated by one. John Ryan's in seat number three, then me in number five. Dana's in seven. Carol's seat is number one. We are told by the guard our notebooks will be confiscated if we doodle or make drawings that depict the courtroom. I assume this is an empty threat, but Carol clocks it, points above her head. Her seat. The number one seat, is right under a camera that can see what she writes. First things first. Can you run down the coffee question? Carol asks. We did, ma'am. They told us only water bottles. The planets are in retrograde, carol grumbles. This is a new rotation of MPs. They don't know what they're doing yet. Carol figures maybe this uptight guard will relax when she sees we know how to behave. But the guard doesn't let up, and when we return the next day, the guard is back and then some. I get caught whispering something to Carol. We are not going to have conversations, the guard snaps. Then, as a witness is testifying, she hollers wake up. Into her radio, admonishing a fellow guard dozing inside the courtroom. Sleeping is against the rules. A little later, Mayday. I see John Ryan to my left, nodding off. I don't know what to do. There's a wide, empty seat between us. The seats are oversized and comfortable, just right for a nap, so there's no way to subtly nudge him. Plus, I don't know John, really. It's not my place to get between him and some shut eye. As I mull the most collegial course of action, she appears. The terrifying guard gets right up in John's startled face. She tells him to stop sleeping, and if you can't stay awake, I'm going to ask you to leave. John's been covering this court for seven years, and this has never happened to him before. He keeps saying, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. All this is aggravating, of course. Insulting. We're being treated like children. But frankly, it rolls off Dana and me an amusement more than anything. After this week, we're out of here. But Carol. Carol is lucky. Behold the sound of indignation as absorbed by Carol Rosenberg's keyboard. Back at the Media Operations center, the mock. That's where reporters work from down here. Carol is writing up a memo about the mean Guard, an army specialist.
