Marine veteran Daniel Penny, the man at the center of the subway incident that gripped New York City and the nation, recently spoke out for the first time since a jury acquitted him of criminally negligent homicide. In a candid interview with Judge Jeanine Pirro, Penny detailed his harrowing encounter with Jordan Neely, a man whose erratic and threatening behavior on a Manhattan subway led to a fatal chokehold. Penny’s account paints a stark picture of a chaotic moment and the broader environment of fear gripping New York’s transit system.
Reflecting on the events, Penny described Neely’s unhinged behavior, saying the man was loudly threatening to kill passengers, including a promise to spend the rest of his life in jail. Penny found himself in a vulnerable position, grappling with Neely in what he described as a desperate attempt to prevent harm. He explained that the possibility of Neely acting on his threats left him no choice, stating that the guilt of doing nothing—and potentially allowing others to get hurt or killed—would have been unbearable. Penny’s actions may have made him a target for political and public ire, but he insists he acted to protect innocent lives.
The former Marine expressed discomfort with the spotlight the case has put on him, both from supporters and detractors. For Penny, the focus should remain on the context: a New York subway plagued by escalating violence. High-profile incidents, like a subway stabbing just days before, had left riders on edge, creating an atmosphere of constant vigilance. Penny believes that his decision to intervene was a reaction to this worsening environment, one that officials like Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg have failed to address. He accused Bragg’s office of pursuing a politically motivated case against him rather than tackling the root causes of the city’s safety crisis.
Penny was particularly critical of policies that have allowed crime and mental health crises to spiral out of control. He highlighted the failures of leaders too stubborn to admit when their approaches aren’t working, leaving everyday citizens to deal with the fallout. Neely, it turns out, had an extensive criminal record, an active warrant for his arrest, and a history of severe mental illness and drug abuse. Despite this, he was free to threaten subway passengers on the day of the incident—while Penny, who stepped in to prevent what he saw as an imminent danger, became the one targeted for prosecution.
Eyewitness accounts from the subway support Penny’s description of the chaos. Several passengers testified that Neely’s threats went far beyond the typical outbursts New Yorkers have come to expect, with one witness recalling the fear instilled by Neely’s claim that someone would die that day. The irony of the situation hasn’t been lost on Penny’s supporters: a man who took action to protect others was nearly imprisoned, while those responsible for the broader climate of fear remain unaccountable. Penny’s story, though tragic, underscores the growing frustrations of New Yorkers who feel abandoned by leaders more interested in scoring political points than addressing public safety.
