Thunder Dog Read Free Page A

around 10,000 gallons of jet fuel, the plane blasted into the North Tower with a force equal to 480,000 pounds of TNT. 1 The shock registered a magnitude of 0.9 on a seismograph at Columbia University, equal to that of a small earthquake.
    The impact created a huge fireball. As the plane plowed through the building, it created a cloud of jet fuel that ignited into a firestorm, burning an estimated 1,000 to 3,000 gallons of jet fuel. 2 An instant inferno, the blaze was so intense it drove temperatures as high as 2,000 degrees. 3 The impact also caused acute structural damage, demolishing some thirty-five exterior columns between floors 94 and 98 and destroying portions of those floors.

    Although the impact was more than a dozen floors above us and on the other side of the building, our office is a mess. The swaying of the tower caused the contents of the office to hit the floor along with ceiling tiles and building materials.
    I hear our guests screaming in the conference room.
    David yells, “We have to get out of here NOW!”
    “I agree,” I say. “But let’s slow down and do it the right way.” I want to get our guests out first then follow after we close up the office. I’d attended many of the World Trade Center emergency training sessions, and we did fire drills every six months. I run over the guidelines in my mind. Avoid the elevators. Take the stairs. And don’t panic .
    Don’t panic . Some may think that might seem easy for me to say, since I can’t see the flames, smoke, and debris out the window like David can. Here’s the blind guy, telling David to do something contrary to what his eyes and his instincts are telling him. I have a good imagination, and I understand what’s going on as much as anyone else could understand such an unexpected and catastrophic event.
    But what David doesn’t understand is that I have a piece of information he does not have. When the debris began to fall and the flames leaped out of the floors above us, and even while the people in the conference room screamed, Roselle sat next to me, as calm as ever. She does not sense any danger in the flames, smoke, or anything else that is going on around us. If she had sensed danger, she would have acted differently. But she does not. I choose to trust Roselle’s judgment and so I will not panic. Roselle and I are a team.
    We direct our guests to evacuate using the stairwell, and I ask David to go with them to make sure they find the stairs. While he’s gone, I call Karen. “There’s been an explosion of some sort. We’re okay, but we’re leaving the building now.” She’s anxious, so I keep my voice calm. “David, Roselle, and I are together. We’re going to take the stairs.” I tell her I will call again as soon as possible, but I have to go.
    David returns and we set to work shutting down our computer servers and demo libraries. At this point we have no idea what has happened and when we’ll be allowed back in and we want to protect our data. I figure if firefighters are going to come in with fire hoses, it’s best if we cut the power to minimize water damage. However, we get anxious and abandon this idea because it’s taking too long to move each piece of equipment to reach the individual power plugs. The minutes we save by deciding to leave now will turn out to be important later.
    It’s time to leave. I strap on my briefcase and clutch Roselle’s harness. “Forward,” I say, softly.
    Forward is used when setting off with the dog in harness, and it’s one of the very first commands all guide dogs are taught when training begins. You stand with your left foot out alongside the dog first, then synchronize the verbal command “Forward” with the forward hand signal, a short forward motion with the right hand. You wait for the dog to start pulling and when you feel the pull on the harness handle, you take the first step with your right foot.
    We move out as one, and Roselle guides me carefully through the debris.