Pacion
01-04-2007, 04:33 AM
"Wow" is all I can say!
'If you move, Sir, one of us is going to die'
http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/01/wesautrey030107_228x338.jpg Bravery: Wesley Autrey with daughters Syshe and Shaqui
Headlines
When he saw a man fall into the path of a New York subway train, Wesley Autrey did not hesitate.
The 50-year-old building worker jumped down on to the track and tried desperately to haul him to safety.
But the man, who had suffered a seizure, struggled. And as certain death roared towards them, Mr Autrey made a decision of breathtaking courage.
Instead of saving himself, he pushed the man down into the space between the tracks and lay on top of him, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around him.
With the train just feet away, he told 20-year- old Cameron Hollopeter: 'Please sir, don't move. If you move, one of us is going to lose a leg or die.'
Next second, the first carriage thundered over them before the train screeched to a halt. On the platform, Mr Autrey's two young daughters were among the crowd who had seen the heart-stopping moment and feared the worst.
Then Mr Autrey's voice rang out from below, calling for silence. And as a hush fell, he shouted: 'Tell my little girls that Daddy is okay and the man is okay!' Delighted onlookers burst into applause.
The train had missed the two men by inches - knocking off Mr Autrey's cap, but leaving them otherwise unscathed.
Last night, as Mr Autrey was hailed a hero, Mr Hollopeter's grandfather Jeff Friedman summed up the drama by saying: 'Miracles do happen, don't they? I would love to shake Autrey's hand and say thanks so much.' But Mr Autrey was modest about his astonishing act of courage and selflessness. 'You're supposed to come to people's rescue,' he said.
He had gone to the station at Broadway and West 137th Street from his home in Harlem to take daughters Shaqui, six, and four-yearold Syshe, to their mother's home.
He saw Mr Hollopeter, a film academy student, lying on the platform, having a fit. Mr Autrey used a pen to stop him biting his tongue and helped him up.
But Mr Hollopeter stumbled and fell on to the tracks as a southbound train rumbled in. 'I thought, do I let the train run him over and hear my daughters screaming and see the blood - or do I jump in?' said Mr Autrey.
'I saw that two ladies had my two daughters safe, so I jumped down on to the tracks. I saw these two lights coming toward us and I tried to get him up, but he was fighting me - kicking his arms and legs.
'I didn't want his arms and legs cut off. I knew the train was going to go over us, so I took him. I grabbed him and we fell down.
'I wrapped my arms and legs around him and tightened up. I had to lock my whole body.' He said all he remembered was the sound of the screeching brakes replaced with the screams of his daughters. Mr Hollopeter asked him: 'Am I dead? Who are you?'
Mr Autrey told him: 'I'm someone who saved your life.' After cleaning himself up, the modest hero went to work, while Mr Hollopeter was taken to hospital for observation. His grandfather said: 'Cameron's a talented writer, but even he couldn't write the screenplay any better.'
'If you move, Sir, one of us is going to die'
http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/01/wesautrey030107_228x338.jpg Bravery: Wesley Autrey with daughters Syshe and Shaqui
Headlines
When he saw a man fall into the path of a New York subway train, Wesley Autrey did not hesitate.
The 50-year-old building worker jumped down on to the track and tried desperately to haul him to safety.
But the man, who had suffered a seizure, struggled. And as certain death roared towards them, Mr Autrey made a decision of breathtaking courage.
Instead of saving himself, he pushed the man down into the space between the tracks and lay on top of him, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around him.
With the train just feet away, he told 20-year- old Cameron Hollopeter: 'Please sir, don't move. If you move, one of us is going to lose a leg or die.'
Next second, the first carriage thundered over them before the train screeched to a halt. On the platform, Mr Autrey's two young daughters were among the crowd who had seen the heart-stopping moment and feared the worst.
Then Mr Autrey's voice rang out from below, calling for silence. And as a hush fell, he shouted: 'Tell my little girls that Daddy is okay and the man is okay!' Delighted onlookers burst into applause.
The train had missed the two men by inches - knocking off Mr Autrey's cap, but leaving them otherwise unscathed.
Last night, as Mr Autrey was hailed a hero, Mr Hollopeter's grandfather Jeff Friedman summed up the drama by saying: 'Miracles do happen, don't they? I would love to shake Autrey's hand and say thanks so much.' But Mr Autrey was modest about his astonishing act of courage and selflessness. 'You're supposed to come to people's rescue,' he said.
He had gone to the station at Broadway and West 137th Street from his home in Harlem to take daughters Shaqui, six, and four-yearold Syshe, to their mother's home.
He saw Mr Hollopeter, a film academy student, lying on the platform, having a fit. Mr Autrey used a pen to stop him biting his tongue and helped him up.
But Mr Hollopeter stumbled and fell on to the tracks as a southbound train rumbled in. 'I thought, do I let the train run him over and hear my daughters screaming and see the blood - or do I jump in?' said Mr Autrey.
'I saw that two ladies had my two daughters safe, so I jumped down on to the tracks. I saw these two lights coming toward us and I tried to get him up, but he was fighting me - kicking his arms and legs.
'I didn't want his arms and legs cut off. I knew the train was going to go over us, so I took him. I grabbed him and we fell down.
'I wrapped my arms and legs around him and tightened up. I had to lock my whole body.' He said all he remembered was the sound of the screeching brakes replaced with the screams of his daughters. Mr Hollopeter asked him: 'Am I dead? Who are you?'
Mr Autrey told him: 'I'm someone who saved your life.' After cleaning himself up, the modest hero went to work, while Mr Hollopeter was taken to hospital for observation. His grandfather said: 'Cameron's a talented writer, but even he couldn't write the screenplay any better.'