The Remarkable Escape of 9/11 Survivor Michael Hingson and His Loyal Guide Dog, Roselle

On the morning of September 11, 2001, Michael Hingson was sitting in his 78th-floor office of the North Tower, preparing for the day ahead. Blind since birth, Michael had built his life on resilience and independence — always with the help of his guide dog, Roselle, a yellow Labrador Retriever. That day, her steady presence would become the difference between life and death.

The First Signs of Disaster

At 8:46 a.m., a violent boom shook the skyscraper. The floor beneath Michael shifted, swaying nearly 20 feet before settling again. His colleague, David Frank, rushed to the window and screamed that fire and debris were falling outside. Terrified, he shouted, “We have to get out now!” Michael couldn’t see the devastation — but Roselle’s calm, unfazed reaction gave him confidence that evacuation could be done without panic.

A Journey Down 1,460 Steps

Michael’s training as a corporate manager meant he knew the building’s emergency plans well. After phoning his wife to say he was evacuating, he and Frank joined others in the stairwell. Immediately, Michael noticed the strong smell of jet fuel.

The descent began: more than 1,400 steps between them and the ground. Along the way, they passed burn victims, terrified employees, and firefighters rushing upward into danger. When a panicked woman cried that they would never make it out alive, Michael stopped with his group for a moment of unity. They hugged, encouraged her, and Roselle gently licked her face, offering comfort in the middle of chaos.

But fear returned near the 50th floor when Frank broke down, insisting they were doomed. Michael firmly reminded him, “If Roselle and I can make it, so can you.” His trust in his guide dog steadied the group, and together they pressed on, floor after floor, as Michael whispered encouragements to Roselle at every landing.

Reaching the Ground

When the group finally emerged into the lobby, police directed them away from the main exits where debris and bodies were raining down. Instead, they navigated through the central concourse and found another way out. For the first time, they saw the devastation up close. Flames roared from both towers.

Then came the sound — a deafening rumble like a freight train mixed with a waterfall. The South Tower collapsed. Dust and smoke filled the air as thousands fled. Michael held tightly to Roselle’s harness as she guided him through choking debris. When she suddenly stopped, Michael reached forward and realized she had led him to a subway entrance. Down the steps, they found air clear enough to breathe.

Minutes later, the North Tower fell, only ten minutes after Michael and Roselle had escaped. “There’s no World Trade Center anymore,” Frank told him in shock.

Life After Survival

Back home in New Jersey that night, Michael removed Roselle’s harness. Instead of collapsing from stress, she grabbed her toy and wagged her tail — as if to say her workday was over. Her unwavering calm during those harrowing hours had carried her master to safety.

In the years that followed, Michael and Roselle became symbols of hope, sharing their story on television and radio. Roselle received the American Kennel Club Award for Canine Excellence in 2002. But her health eventually suffered. Diagnosed with an immune disorder in 2004, Michael believed it was linked to the toxic air she inhaled that day. Still, Roselle lived another seven years, passing peacefully in June 2011, with Michael at her side.

An Unbreakable Bond

Michael has worked with several guide dogs since, but none could ever replace Roselle. She was more than a service animal — she was his partner, his protector, and his hero. On September 11, 2001, he never once let go of her harness, and she never once faltered in her duty.

Their journey down 78 floors remains one of the most powerful examples of loyalty and trust between a human and his dog — a reminder that courage can come on four legs, with a wagging tail, and a steady heart.