September 11, 2026, will mark the 25th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks which collapsed the World Trade Centre and led to the loss of thousands of lives. It also marks 25 years since Michael Hingson’s life was saved by his guide dog, who helped him escape from the 78th story of the north tower of the centre.
“We probably moved about 20 feet,” he recalled to PEOPLE. “David and I actually said goodbye to each other,” said the 76-year-old, “because we thought we were going to take a 78-floor plunge to the street. Hingson, blind since birth, had heard a muffled explosion as he stood in the doorway of his office. Across the room, his colleague David Frank held onto a desk. Meanwhile, Roselle, Hingson’s guide dog, a yellow Labrador retriever, was asleep beneath his desk.
A regional sales manager for a computer-storage company, Hingson and Frank had been preparing that morning to lead a seminar when a jet hijacked by al-Qaida struck the World Trade Centre at 8:46 am local time. Just 15 floors above them, the tower was being consumed in the aftermath of the first plane crash. Not just him, about 10 floors down, a woman behind them stopped and said, “I can’t breathe, I can’t go on. In total, 343 New York City firefighters died that day when the World Trade Centre towers fell. Soon, the 110-floor south tower was struck by another plane and began disintegrating. About 10 minutes later, the building where they had worked and where they had just escaped, the north tower, fell, too. In 2002, Roselle received the Award for Canine Excellence (ACE) in the service dog category, and at the age of 14, died in June of 2011.
Hingson called his wife, Karen, at their home in Westfield, N.J., and told her there had been an emergency. “The dogs don’t lead,” he explained. As they descended, Hingson repeatedly told Roselle: “Good dog, Roselle. “I knew she was going to sense the fear in everyone else, so I needed to let her know I was okay,” he said. “Mike, we’re going to die,” he yelled. “Stop it, David,” he commanded. “Anyone within the sound of his voice heard someone who was calm, focused, going down the stairs and yelling to somebody else that he was okay,” Hingson said. In time, firefighters began passing them on their way up, asking people to just “go down and get out” as they dealt with what was happening upstairs. “The first thing I thought was, ‘God, I can’t believe that you got us out of a building just to have it collapse on us,’” Hingson said. “And when I did that, I literally heard in my head a voice that said, ‘Don’t worry about what you can’t control. When a police officer told them it was safe to leave, Hingson, Roselle and Frank, who had stayed with them, returned to the street and to the shocking sight of the south tower. “David looked at us and said, ‘Oh my God, Mike, all I see are pillars of smoke hundreds of feet tall.
Hingson remembered that as the building was righting itself, Frank shouted, “Oh my God, Mike, there’s fire and smoke above us. We got to get out of here — right now. Initially, though, the scale of the terror attack wasn’t clear. Then he, Roselle and Frank, after a safe sweep of the office and knowing there were no other co-workers there, started retreating down to the ground. As the small group made the great escape, Roselle at times walked beside him, guiding him around obstacles. Other times, she walked behind him as he held the railing and climbed down. “They guide. You’re doing a great job. Hingson turned back to help, offering a hug while Roselle offered some comfort of her own, kisses. By the 50th floor, fear overtook Frank. “We’re not going to make it out of here. But Hingson was determined. “If Roselle and I can go down these stairs, so can you. The words calmed Frank, who started walking one floor ahead, telling Hingson what he saw as they went further. “David had to be one of the major forces keeping people in that stairwell from panicking. Roselle abruptly stopped at the top of a flight of stairs and led Hingson below ground, to shelter in a subway station. As Hingson finally reached the lobby, an FBI agent directed him and Frank out of the complex. Hingson described it as a “rubble that was a combination of a freight train and a waterfall. Focus on running with Roselle, and the rest will take care of itself.’ ” Out on the streets, Roselle abruptly stopped at the top of a flight of stairs and led Hingson below ground, to shelter in a subway station. Or where it should have stood. It’s gone,’ ” Hingson shared. Later that evening, Hingson finally returned home to New Jersey. Soon after the attacks, he moved to California and worked for Guide Dogs for the Blind. He found healing through talking to audiences about trust, teamwork and controlling fear. Hingson now lives in Victorville, Calif., with Alamo, his ninth guide dog. Catch the latest World News and Live updates. Download the TOI app.
