As Told to Jason Daley
I WAS TRYING TO GET to the Twins game early to watch batting practice, but there was construction, and traffic was bumper to bumper on the I-35W bridge in Minneapolis. Suddenly, I saw the asphalt break in front of me and felt the bridge shake. I thought, Holy cow, I just survived an earthquake. Then the bridge started falling.

I plummeted headfirst, 60 feet, gripping the steering wheel. My car was on a 15-by-20-foot concrete slab, and chunks of it exploded into gray, gritty smoke while pieces of bridge fell all around me. The front wheels of my car landed on the slab, but the back end was slipping into the river. Water was rushing into the car. I tried to open the door, but it was jammed, so I leaned back and tried to kick out the windshield, which was already shattered, but I was wearing flip-flops and couldn't do it. I tried to kick out a side window, but that didn't work either. Then I started to panic. I got my computer bag and was ready to smash it through the window, but tried the door again and it opened.

I waded onto a big slab of concrete. There was a man on another slab nearby, cut off from me by a ten-foot channel of water. He was near a tanker truck leaking gas and oil—there were fires all around—and he said, "Hey, man, help me." That's when my high school lifeguard training kicked in. I found a splintered two-by-four and reached it out to him, guiding him through the water and onto my slab. We hugged each other and started crying. A girl swam over to us from her submerged car, then another girl emerged from the rubble, covered in blood and dirt. It must have been a half-hour before a rescue boat found us. Onshore, a guy in a pickup truck drove us to the hospital. I had two compressed discs and scrapes and bruises, but I was released later that night. After I recuperate I plan on running a triathlon to honor those who didn't make it.

Expert Analysis: The only thing Brian did wrong was waste time. If the driver's door didn't open, he should have tried the passenger door. And rolled down the window if he could. The door usually won't open until the car is fully submerged, so letting the water in allows the door to open faster. And if you're in a situation like this, leave your seatbelt on so you can stay oriented. Don't release it until you're ready to swim out. And have a window punch on hand. It might be the only way to escape. —Richard Martin, of Connecticut-based Survival Systems USA (survivalsystemsgroup.com)