Thunder Dog: The True Story of a Blind Man, His Guide Dog, and the Triumph of Trust
Michael Hingson, Susy Flory
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Faith. Trust. Triumph.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. “He is permanently and totally blind. There is nothing we can do for him.”
George and Sarah Hingson looked at each other, devastated. Their six-month-old son, Michael was a happy, strawberry blond baby boy, healthy and normal in every way except one. When the Hingsons switched on a light or made silly faces, Michael did not react. Ever. “My best suggestion is that you send him to a home for the blind,” the doctor continued. “He will never be able to do anything for himself.”
Forty-seven years later, a yellow Labrador retriever puppy was born in the whelping unit of Guide Dogs for the Blind in San Rafael, California. The puppy’s name was Roselle. On September 11, 2001, she saved Michael’s life. This is Roselle’s story too.
―From the Introduction
Every moment in Michael Hingson’s and Roselle’s lives seemed to lead up to this day. When one of four hijacked planes flew into the World Trade Center’s north tower on September 11, 2001, Michael Hingson, a district sales manager for a data protection and network security systems company, was sitting down for a meeting. His guide dog, Roselle, was at his feet. Paired for twenty-one months, man and dog spent that time forging a bond of trust, much like police partners who trust their lives to each other.
Michael couldn’t see a thing, but he could hear the sounds of shattering glass, falling debris, and terrified people flooding around him and Roselle. However, Roselle sat calmly beside him. In that moment, Michael chose to trust Roselle’s judgment and not to panic. They were a team.
Thunder Dog is a story that will forever change your spirit and your perspective. It illuminates Hingson’s lifelong determination to achieve parity in a sighted world and how the rare trust between a man and his guide dog can inspire an unshakable faith in each one of us.
Pet him, but I obeyed and sat still. Squire inspected me for about thirty seconds then sat down next to me and waited. “It looks like you found a friend,” said Mr. Benzler. I gave Squire a hug. My heart was pounding. “You can take Squire back to your room now,” said Mr. Benzler. “Use his leash, and ask him to heel. Then take some time to get to know each other.” Squire and I headed back to my room. I felt like I was walking on air with Squire by my side. When the door closed behind us, I sat.
Trade Center. Initially, we spent a lot of time exploring the building’s hallways, its lobbies, and the underground shopping center. I worked hard to make sure she would not expect to always go the same way to get to a particular location within the building. I always felt it important that Roselle not be able to anticipate my commands—something that can easily happen within a confined space such as the WTC. Roselle and I made a good match; we were always up for an adventure. But my 9/11.
But we’re getting close. “Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . .” Now I want out of the stairwell. I’m tired of counting. My legs are starting to feel wobbly. I want fresh air. I want to call Karen. “Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . .” We are so close. If I weren’t hemmed in by people, I’d run. “First floor,” David calls back. “The sprinklers are on, and we’re going to have to run through a waterfall at the bottom of the stairs.” He’s not joking. Seconds later, when.
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.
Or profession of examining the eye for defects and faults of refraction and prescribing correctional lenses or exercises. Optical Character Recognition (OCR): The computerized process of identifying patterns of pixels in an electronic file as letters or other parts of language such as punctuation. Most advanced software performing this task can also maintain the format of the original page, if desired, through insertion of various codes in the “Save” or “Save As” process. OCR with any software.