I never planned on speaking publicly about this.
But enough people have reached out—friends, strangers, and people who saw the video—that I felt it was important to explain what actually happened. More importantly, I want to talk about why stepping in matters when you see someone in danger.
A Normal Day That Changed in Seconds
It was an ordinary day. My son and I were out shopping in Manhattan, near Union Square, doing what we often do. We were heading toward Forbidden Planet, the comic book store I visit almost every week.
As we were walking, we heard a sudden commotion ahead of us.
At first, it was just shouting—confusing, overlapping voices. But then I heard something unmistakable: a child screaming.
I immediately told my son, “Stay behind me,” and moved forward to see what was happening.
What I Saw When I Reached the Scene
In front of me was a mother holding her toddler—barely more than a baby—while a pit bull was clamped down on the child’s leg.
The mother was pulling with everything she had. The father was pulling. The dog’s owner was trying to pull the dog back.
Nothing worked.
The dog was locked on.
Anyone familiar with pit bulls knows this behavior—when they latch, they don’t let go easily. The harder people pulled, the worse it became. It was horrifying to witness.
I looked back at my son and told him to stay where he was. Then I stepped in.
Why I Did What I Did
People around me were trying everything they could. Someone punched the dog. Someone threw water on it. Everyone was trying.
But I’ve unfortunately seen dog attacks before. I know that striking or startling a dog in that state can often make it bite down even harder.
Because of my background—decades of martial arts training, grappling experience, and study of anatomy—I recognized something critical in that moment: the dog’s carotid arteries were exposed due to its positioning.
I also knew something else.
The dog wasn’t acting out of malice. It was an animal, acting on instinct. Killing the dog was not something I wanted to do unless there was absolutely no other option.
At that moment, I believed there was a way to stop the attack without killing the dog—and save the child.
The Moment Everything Stopped
I positioned myself behind the dog, placing pressure on both carotid arteries. I squeezed as hard as I could.
The dog was pure muscle—rigid, locked, unrelenting.
Around me, everything was chaos: the mother screaming, the child screaming, people shouting.
I remember praying silently, asking not to fail and hoping I could help this child.
There was a moment when I wasn’t sure it was working. I thought to myself that if this didn’t stop the attack, I might have to put the dog down.
Then, slowly, I felt it.
The dog began to loosen. Then go limp. And finally—it released the child.
Choosing When to Let Go
At that point, I had a decision to make.
I could have continued applying pressure until the dog lost consciousness. But I didn’t know whether that would mean it would recover—or die.
The child was free. That was all that mattered.
So I let go.
The dog appeared dazed and attempted to move forward again, but the owner was finally able to restrain it. I got up immediately—I had no intention of being bitten myself.
After the Attack
I went straight to the child and his father. The mother was on the ground in shock.
As a parent, I can say without hesitation that there is nothing worse than seeing your child hurt.
I told the father not to move the child and to keep him as still as possible. There was blood from puncture wounds. Someone said 911 had been called and that an ambulance was on the way.
I put my hand on the mother’s shoulder and told her it was going to be okay. The immediate danger had passed.
I prayed that the child’s injuries wouldn’t be severe—and that he was young enough not to remember what had just happened.
Walking Away Quietly
After that, I went back to my son.
I asked him if he was okay. He said he was.
I put my hood up, walked to Forbidden Planet, bought my comic books, and went on with the day as if nothing had happened.
I didn’t want attention. I didn’t want recognition.
As far as I was concerned, the child was safer than he had been moments before. That was enough.
About the Video and the Attention
Since then, people have been reaching out constantly—messages, calls, and strangers stopping me in the street.
I’m grateful, but also overwhelmed.
I don’t like the word hero.
Because the truth is that everyone who tried that day was a hero. The people who threw water. The person who struck the dog. Everyone who tried to help.
This is New York. People didn’t stand around doing nothing—they acted.
What I Want People to Take From This
This holiday season, I want to leave you with something I often say:
To whom much is given, much is expected.
You may not be big. You may not be trained. You may not know exactly what to do.
But do something.
Even if it’s calling for help. Even if it’s drawing attention. Even if it’s just trying.
When chaos hits, rational thinking is incredibly difficult—especially without training. It’s easy to criticize afterward. Acting in the moment is not easy.
What matters is trying.
Final Thoughts
I don’t want to turn this into a political discussion about dog breeds. That’s not the point.
A terrible thing happened. A child was hurt. And thankfully, people stepped in.
Please keep that child and his family in your prayers.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. Know that I believe in you.
Excelsior.
