Somehow he sustained only cuts, bruises and a dislocated shoulder, which was pinned beneath the rear tire. He was back towing cars two weeks later.
„I said, ‚God, bring an angel to my side, help me,’ ” Uribe said. „In Spanish, we say, ‚milagro’ (miracle). I appreciate (Estenor) doing what he did, saving my husband’s life. If nobody helps me, I don’t know if he is in the room right now.”
Estenor walked away from the scene and into the cafeteria. And as hungry as he’d been, he could barely eat, shaking in disbelief at what had happened.
„The shock of doing that, it’s not an everyday thing you do,” he said.
That night he told his roommates, offensive tackles Jamar Bass and Damien Edwards. „Did this really just happen?” he asked. Teammates the next morning didn’t believe him. But one day after spring practice, coach Skip Holtz asked Estenor to stand in front of the team.
„I wanted to let you know that Danous is a real hero,” began the letter written by Jodi Rivera, manager of the Bulls Den Cafe, and read by Holtz. The letter closed with, „I know in my heart that without Danous there, the driver may not have survived the night. His quick thinking, willingness to help and strength saved that man’s life.”
„Unbelievable story,” Holtz said last week. „What a phenomenal story. Not all of us can lift a car. I’d be over there going (strains, laughing), ‚Um, call the ambulance.’ And Danous just walked away? I can totally see that. Just humble, quiet, keeps to himself.”
How could Estenor lift a Cadillac that weighs roughly 3,500 pounds?
The phenomenon is called hysterical strength, a burst of adrenaline that allows people to perform feats far beyond their normal physical limitations. USF’s strength and conditioning coach, Mike Golden, said Estenor can bench-press 405 pounds but few people even of his size and strength could do what he did.