Thunder Dog

by Michael Hingson

  Thanks to Chip MacGregor, my agent, who guided me through the muddles of the literary publishing world. You truly are a wizard, and I am with you—Mark Twain is the best American author, bar none.

  Finally, thanks to Bryan Norman, Brian Hampton, and all the wonderful folks at Thomas Nelson Publishers for listening and for agreeing to take on this project. I look forward to working with you in the future. Let’s do it again.

  SUSY FLORY: It’s been a wild and crazy year. In the spring of 2010, I was recovering from breast cancer treatment, including two surgeries, chemotherapy, and radiation. During those weeks of radiation, I began work on Dog Tales, a book of true and miraculous dog stories. One of the dogs I wrote about was Roselle. When I first sent Mike an e-mail, he graciously agreed to a phone interview. After twenty minutes on the phone, I had chills. “Have you ever thought of writing a book?” I asked. He said yes but that he also wanted a collaborator. More chills. I found out we both love travel, books, and dogs. And we live less than an hour apart. We decided to work together, and I spent every Monday over the summer at his beautiful home on the Marin Peninsula, just across from San Francisco. I fell in love with his wonderful wife, Karen, and their three yellow Labs: Fantasia, Africa, and Roselle. The dogs mob me every time I walk in the front door, and I love it. Michael, thank you for the privilege of working with you on Thunder Dog. It’s been a blast.

  My love and thanks to Robert, Ethan, and Teddy. You are Team Flory, and I love you. Thanks for believing in me and listening to all my dog stories at the dinner table. Mom, Sara, Jerry, Alice, Tracy, Mark, Dave, Bea, Jeff, Sheila, Teresa, Margaret, my dear friends in Homebuilders, and my Facebook and CAN buddies, thanks for praying for me and cheering me on. A special thanks to the Thunder Dog readers group: Leo, Joyce, Nancy, Mary, Kristy, Jeannette, Lorena, Marci-Beth, Jinx, Amy, and Kristi. And Kathi Lipp, my speaker chick friend, I love sharing this crazy writing life with you. A special thanks to Ann Dykstra at One Rincon Hill for letting Robert and me climb down the stairwell to get a little taste of what Mike went through on 9/11.

  I’m grateful to Michael’s friends and family who granted interviews and made me feel welcome: Karen Hingson, David Frank, Dr. Marc Maurer, Dr. Fredric Schroeder, Terry Barrett, Todd Jurek, Bob Phillips, Aaron Klein, Billie Castillo, K. Cherie Jones, Dava Wayman, Dick Rubinstein, Ellery Hingson, Hollybeth Anderson, James Gashel, Kevin Washington, Mark Riccebono, Mat Kaplan, Mr. Herboldsheimer, Robin Keith, Tom Painter, and his dear aunt Shirley Stone.

  Finally, deep thanks to my agent, Chip MacGregor. I appreciate your wisdom and your passion for books that change lives (although I’m still not convinced Mark Twain is the best American writer ever). To Brian Hampton and Bryan Norman, thanks for believing in this story and loving Roselle and Mike as much as I do.

  TIMELINE FOR

  SEPTEMBER 11, 2001

  12:30 a.m. In Westfield, New Jersey, Roselle wakes Michael, shaking in fear due to an approaching thunderstorm.

  5:00 a.m. Michael Hingson wakes to his alarm, gets up, dresses, eats breakfast, and prepares for work.

  5:45 a.m. Terrorist leader Mohamed Atta and associate Abdulaziz al-Omari pass through security in Portland, Maine, preparing to board a flight to Boston.

  6:00 a.m. Primary Day election polls open in New York. Mayor Rudolph Giuliani is out, due to term limits. Charlie, the owner of Happy Fox Taxi, picks up Roselle and Mike for a ten-minute ride to the New Jersey Transit station.

  6:48 a.m. The 6:18 train finally arrives in station after several announced delays.

  7:15 a.m. Michael and Roselle arrive in Newark and transfer to a PATH train for the World Trade Center.

  7:43 a.m. Michael and Roselle arrive at the World Trade Center station and walk through the underground parking lot on the fourth sublevel to an elevator that takes them to the lobby of Tower 1, the north building. Michael’s security card is scanned by security, and they proceed to the express elevator.

  7:50 a.m. Michael unlocks the door to the Quantum, Inc. suite on the 78th floor of the North Tower. Minutes later, David Frank and six other people arrive for the sales training presentations. One of the guests goes back downstairs to greet others expected to arrive. Remaining in the office are Michael, Roselle, David Frank, and five other people.

  8:35 a.m. The Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) sends a message to NORAD: American Flight 11 out of Boston has been hijacked.

  8:46 a.m. American Airlines Flight 11 crashes into the North Tower of the World Trade Center (WTC 1), cutting through floors 93–99.

  8:47 a.m. Michael calls his wife, Karen, to tell her there’s been an explosion.

  8:50 a.m. Michael, Roselle, and David enter Stairwell B.

  8:55 a.m. The first burn victim passes Michael in the stairwell. Five minutes later, another burn victim passes by.

  9:03 a.m. United Airlines Flight 175 crashes into the South Tower of the World Trade Center (WTC 2). Inside the stairwell, Michael and others hear nothing of the explosion.

  9:08 a.m. Someone passes water bottles up the stairs.

  9:10 a.m. A column of firefighters passes by Michael and the group, beginning at the 30th floor. Mike speaks to the first firefighter. The FAA closes New York City airports.

  9:21 a.m. All bridges and tunnels in New York are closed by the Port Authority.

  9:26 a.m. All nonmilitary flights are grounded in the United States, orders of the Federal Aviation Administration.

  9:30 a.m. President Bush, speaking from Sarasota, Florida, says the United States has suffered an “apparent terrorist attack.”

  9:35 a.m. Michael, Roselle, and David reach the first floor and run through the fire sprinkler waterfall to come out in the lobby.

  9:37 a.m. American Flight 77 crashes into the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia, a suburb of Washington, D.C.

  9:45 a.m. Michael and Roselle leave the World Trade Center and step outside. The White House evacuates.

  9:59 a.m. The South Tower, Tower 2, collapses.

  10:01 a.m. Michael and Roselle find an entrance to the Fulton Street Subway Station and take refuge inside. A portion of the Pentagon collapses.

  10:06 a.m. United Airlines Flight 93 crashes in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, 80 miles southeast of Pittsburgh.

  10:17 a.m. Michael and Roselle leave the station, evacuated by a police officer, and go back up to street level.

  10:24 a.m. The FAA reports all inbound transatlantic aircraft are being diverted to Canada.

  10:29 a.m. The North Tower, Tower 1, collapses.

  10:32 a.m. Michael gets through to Karen on his cell phone and tells her that he is alive and has made it out of the World Trade Center.

  10:58 a.m. Michael, Roselle, and David rest on a bench at a small plaza near Broadway and Canal Street.

  11:00 a.m. Michael listens to his radio and hears Mayor Giuliani telling everyone to remain calm. The mayor orders lower Manhattan evacuated to points north of Canal Street, and he tells everyone else to stay home.

  11:30 a.m. Michael, Roselle, and David stop at a small Vietnamese restaurant to rest. Michael has a bowl of soup. Military jets race by.

  12:02 p.m. Michael’s boss, Rich Dickson, sends an e-mail to his staff: “Michael just was able to get through to me by cell phone. He and David Frank are together and are being evacuated even further from the area. Both are a bit dirty and tired but OK. Both got out just before our tower collapsed. . . . We really thought we lost both Mike and David as we watched our tower crash to the ground.”

  12:45 p.m. Michael, Roselle, and David walk toward Nina Resnick’s apartment. They catch a ride with some friendly strangers.

  1:15 p.m. Nina is out shopping for groceries, so Michael, Roselle, and David wait in the lobby of her apartment building.

  1:44 p.m. Five warships and two aircraft carriers leave Norfolk, Virginia, to protect the East Coast from further attack.

  1:50 p.m. Nina arrives, loaded down with grocery bags. The trio and Roselle go upstairs and clean up, talk, listen to the news, eat, and wr
ite notes on the day’s events.

  2:49 p.m. Mayor Giuliani announces that subway and bus service will be partially restored.

  4:00 p.m. Karen leaves a message on Michael’s cell that a friend has made it home to New Jersey from Manhattan by train. Michael calls her back, then decides to try for home. CNN reports that U.S. officials have evidence that Saudi militant Osama bin Laden is involved in the attacks. (Osama bin Laden, who later claimed direct responsibility for the September 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center, was shot and killed May 2, 2011 in Pakistan by U.S. Navy Seals in a covert operation.)

  4:30 p.m. Michael, Roselle, and David thank Nina for her help and leave the apartment building. A few blocks away they board a bus to Sixth and Thirty-third, near Penn Station. All transportation is free. President Bush, who has been transported from Florida to Barksdale Air Force Base in Louisiana, to Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska, boards Air Force One to return to Washington, D.C.

  5:21 p.m. Building 7 of the World Trade Center complex collapses.

  5:30 p.m. Michael and David say a quick, emotional good-bye. David heads to a friend’s place on the Upper East Side.

  6:05 p.m. Michael boards a train to Newark, New Jersey. People on the train see the dust on Michael and question him about his experiences.

  6:10 p.m. Mayor Giuliani asks New Yorkers to stay home on Wednesday.

  6:37 p.m. Michael and Roselle arrive at the Newark station and transfer to a Westfield, New Jersey, train on track 5. Michael calls Karen to tell her he has boarded the Westfield train, because she is standing by to pick him up if the Westfield train had not been running. Karen and Tom leave to pick up Michael and Roselle. Outside, they can see the smoke from the World Trade Center, 20 miles away.

  7:02 p.m. Michael and Roselle arrive at the Westfield station. As they leave the station, Karen pulls up in the family van with her friend Tom Painter at the wheel.

  7:15 p.m. Michael, Karen, Tom, and Roselle arrive home. Mike unharnesses Roselle and tries to brush her coat, but she is more interested in playing with Linnie, Michael’s retired guide dog. Michael showers while Karen orders Chinese takeout. Michael, Karen, and Tom enjoy a quiet meal and watch TV .

  8:30 p.m. President George W. Bush makes a television statement, saying, “Thousands of lives were suddenly ended by evil.” He adds, “These acts shattered steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve.” Michael’s friends and family begin to call. Michael is tired but talks to as many as he can.

  10:49 p.m. Reports emerge that there were three to five hijackers on each plane, armed only with crude knives.

  11:00 p.m. At Karen’s urging, Michael debriefs through the day’s events with K. Cherie Jones, a friend and pastor in Atascadero, California.

  12:00 a.m. Michael and Roselle go to bed and sleep peacefully. No storms.*

  * Timeline compiled from The 9/11 Commission Report, along with notes by Michael Hingson.

  THE COURTESY

  RULES FOR

  BLINDNESS

  When you meet me don’t be ill at ease. It will help both of us if you remember these simple points of courtesy:

  1. I’m an ordinary person, just blind. You don’t need to raise your voice or address me as if I were a child. Don’t ask my spouse what I want—“Cream in the coffee?”— ask me.

  2. I may use a long white cane or a guide dog to walk independently; or I may ask to take your arm. Let me decide, and please don’t grab my arm; let me take yours. I’ll keep a half-step behind to anticipate curbs and steps.

  3. I want to know who’s in the room with me. Speak when you enter. Introduce me to the others. Include children, and tell me if there’s a cat or dog.

  4. The door to a room or cabinet or to a car left partially open is a hazard to me.

  5. At dinner I will not have trouble with ordinary table skills.

  6. Don’t avoid words like “see.” I use them, too. I’m always glad to see you.

  7. I don’t want pity. But don’t talk about the “wonderful compensations” of blindness. My sense of smell, touch, or hearing did not improve when I became blind. I rely on them more and, therefore, may get more information through those senses than you do—that’s all.

  8. If I’m your houseguest, show me the bathroom, closet, dresser, window—the light switch too. I like to know whether the lights are on.

  9. I’ll discuss blindness with you if you’re curious, but it’s an old story to me. I have as many other interests as you do.

  10. Don’t think of me as just a blind person. I’m just a person who happens to be blind.

  In all fifty states, the law requires drivers to yield the right of way when they see my extended white cane. Only the blind may carry white canes. You see more blind persons today walking alone, not because there are more of us, but because we have learned to make our own way.*

  * From the National Federation of the Blind

  BLINDNESS:

  A LEFT-HANDED

  DISSERTATION

  by Kenneth Jernigan

  You have asked me to comment on a seeming contradiction in the philosophy of the National Federation of the Blind. You tell me on the one hand that we say, “The blind person can compete on terms of equality with the ordinary sighted person if he gets proper training and opportunity.” You call to my attention our statement that, “The average blind person can do the average job in the average place of business, and do it as well as his sighted neighbor.” You remind me that we tell the World with great insistence that, “The blind person can lead as happy and lead as full a life as anyone else.”

  You tell me on the other hand that we say blindness need not be the great tragedy it has always been considered, but that it can be reduced to the level of a mere physical nuisance. You say that these two propositions seem contradictory, and that if you are to buy the one you don’t see how you can buy the other. You tell me you are prepared to accept the fact that the blind can compete and therefore you’re not prepared, unless I can provide valid reasons to the contrary, to concede that blindness is a nuisance at all. That is, any more so than any other characteristic of any other person in normal living.

  Let me begin by saying that you have put me in a very unusual position. Ordinarily people want to argue the other way. Most of them say that it’s ridiculous to say that blindness can be reduced to the level of a nuisance since it is obviously a major tragedy involving severe problems and extreme limitations not to mention emotional distress and psychological disturbance. You however deny that it is even a nuisance and ask me to come up to the line and prove that it is! Fair enough, I shall try. The very fact that you can raise such a question shows how much progress we have made. I doubt that anybody could have done it as recently as twenty years ago.

  To begin with, even if we were to concede, and I don’t concede it as I will shortly indicate, that there is absolutely nothing which can be done with sight which can’t be done just as easily and just as well without it, blindness would still be a nuisance as the World is now constituted. Why? Because the World is planned and structured for the sighted. This does not mean that blindness need be a terrible tragedy, or that the blind are inferior, or that they cannot compete on terms of equality with the sighted. And we of the National Federation of the Blind, for instance, affirm that the ordinary blind person can compete on terms of equality with the ordinary sighted person, if he gets proper training and opportunity. We know that the average blind person can do the average job in the average place of business and do it as well as his sighted neighbor. In other words, the blind person can be as happy and lead as full a life as anybody else.

  For an exact analogy, consider the situation of those who are left-handed. The world is planned and structured for the right-handed. Thus, left-handedness is a nuisance and is recognized as such, especially by the left-handed. Even so, the left-handed can compete on terms of equality with the right-handed since their handicap can be reduced to the level of a mere physical nuisance.

  If
you are not left-handed (I am not. I am a “normal”), you may not have thought of the problems. A left-handed person ordinarily wears his wristwatch on his right arm. Not to do so is awkward and causes problems. But the watch is made for the right-handed. Therefore, when it is worn on the right arm, the stem is toward the elbow, not the fingers. The watch is inconvenient to wind, a veritable nuisance.

  Then there are butter knives. Many of them are so constructed that the left-handed must either spread the butter with the back of the knife, awkwardly use the right hand, or turn the wrist in a most uncomfortable way—nuisances all. But not of the sort to ruin one’s psyche or cause nightmares, just annoying.

  The garden variety can opener (the one you grip in your left hand and turn with your right, that is, if you are “normal”) is made for “normals.” If you hold it in your right hand and turn it with your left (as any respectable left-hander is tempted to do), you must either clumsily reach across it to get at the handle or turn it upside down so that the handle is conveniently located, in which case it won’t work at all.

  Likewise, steak knives are usually serrated to favor the right-handed. Scissors, eggbeaters, ice cream dippers, and other utensils are also made for the same group.

  So are ordinary school-desk classroom chairs. How many have you seen with the arms on the left side? Of course, a few enlightened schools and colleges (with proper, present-day concern for the well-being of minorities) have two or three left-handed chairs in each of their classrooms, but this is the exception rather than the rule. It succeeds only in earning the ill will of chauvinistic right-handers, who must use the desks when the room is full and the left-handed are absent. Of course, these occasional left-handed desks are the most blatant form of tokenism, the groveling gratitude of occasional left-handed Uncle Toms to the contrary notwithstanding.

  In at least one case, it would seem, the problem of the left-handed is not just a side effect of the fact that the world is constructed for the right-handed but a real, inherent weakness. When the left-handed person writes with ink (the ballpoint pen was a blessing, indeed), his hand tends to smear the ink as it drags over what he has written. Of course, he can hold his hand up as he writes, but this is an inferior technique, not to mention being tiresome. Upon closer examination even this apparently inherent weakness is not really inherent at all but simply another problem created by society in its catering to the right-handed. There is no real reason why it is better to begin reading or writing at the left side of the page and move to the right, except that it is more efficient and comfortable for the majority, the right-handed. In fact, it would be just as easy to read or write from the right to the left (more so for the left-handed), and thus the shoe would be on the other foot, or, more precisely, the pen would be in the other hand.