Thunder Dog - Michael Hingson [42]
We still don’t know exactly what happened to cause the explosion and the fires. We won’t find out until later that the blaze in the towers is so intense it is reaching temperatures as high as 2,000 degrees and generating heat equivalent to three to five times the energy output of a nuclear power plant.1 Fireproofing, sprinkler systems, and the water supply for fire hoses have been knocked out, although the fire is so extensive that sprinklers might not be much help anyway. The plane’s impact between the 78th and 84th floors destroyed exterior columns and may have also damaged interior columns and the floor plate. The floors near the impact suffered severe damage. But the fire is the key problem, heating up the structure to a critical point. Molten aluminum from the plane is flowing down the side of the building opposite the initial impact.
It’s 9:59 a.m., just over an hour since we left our offices. David puts away his camera, and I am closing up my cell phone, unable to reach Karen, when a police officer screams, “Get out of here! It’s coming down!”
The South Tower emits a deep rumble that becomes a deafening roar. I hear glass breaking and metal tearing, accompanied by a chorus of shrill and terrified screams. I will never forget that sound as long as I live. It was like a cross between a freight train and a waterfall of breaking glass.
A floor up in the southeast corner started the ball rolling with a partial collapse, along with columns along the east face buckling near the floor from south to north. Then the top of the building twisted to the east and south, crashing downward and taking successive floors out like dominoes. The South Tower was down in just ten seconds in a cacophonous waterfall of glass, steel, and people.
The impact creates a vibration that travels through my feet and up my legs, and the street feels like a trampoline bouncing. A jolt of fear rips through me and my throat freezes; I can’t even scream.
David cries, “Oh, my God!” and starts running. In a split second’s time I swing 180 degrees, lifting Roselle up bodily and spinning around with a death grip on her harness, and we break into a run too. We are running for our lives. No one is helping anyone anymore.
Except for Roselle and me. We are still there for each other.
Rocks, metal, and glass fall around us, and small hard objects pelt my head and face.
For the second time today, I think that I might die, this time without even being able to say good-bye to Karen.
Many people did perish in the streets surrounding the towers, crushed by the falling building, flattened by debris, or blasted by the shock wave. There were eyewitness reports of eight-ton steel I-beams tumbling end over end. Cars launched through the air along with chunks of concrete, metal ductwork, and shards of glass. One report tells of an EMT firefighter who survived while a flying I-beam killed his partner right next to him.
Roselle and I run away from the noise. I don’t understand why this is happening. My heart cries out to God in anguish.
How could you get us out of the building only to have it fall on us?
As soon as I silently scream out the question, God answers. I hear his voice inside my head and my heart. He speaks directly to me.
Don’t worry about what you cannot control. Focus on running with Roselle, and the rest will take care of itself.
I’d never before heard God’s voice so close and so clearly. Immediately I feel peace and a sense of protection. My mind and my heart begin to settle down, and I start to focus on Roselle. The harness feels solid in my hand, and our bond is sure.
But now I am stronger and more confident. I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that God is directing me just as I direct Roselle.
The noise becomes more intense, debris showering the streets. We reach Fulton Street, which we had crossed only a few moments before.