The Amusement Park That Killed People
If you were one of the lucky souls that got saved by a lifeguard at any of Action Park’s attractions, you’d be adorned with a wristband marked “CSF”. Short for “Can’t Fucking Swim”, the band was worn alongside a shitload of bruises and other egregious injuries. Despite the fear this place put in the hearts of many (parents), most teenagers and young adults considered all the possible peril to be a rite of passage. And so, the park that was known for incapacitating and slaughtering visitors was also where you proved you were a badass.
CREATIVE BEGINNINGS:
Gene Mulvihill, notorious for his involvement in financial schemes, mafia ties, and refusal to reach settlements during lawsuits, was Action Park’s founder. Inventive from the start of the New Jersey park’s opening in 1978, Mulvihill would create rides that contradicted the laws of physics and public safety. One of these rides was coined the “Cannonball Loop”. The water slide commenced with a dark, rapid plummet that met with — you guessed it — a poorly constructed loop. Like the rest of the park, this ride flirted with death as it severed the first test dummies that plunged down. The second wave of dummies were employees mostly under eighteen years old that Mulvihill paid a hundred dollars to for their spunk. Embedded into the slide’s padding, were the teeth of several victims and victors of the ride’s wrath. The wrath in question was Mulvihill’s negligence and imaginative tendencies. Love it or hate it, according to now comedian Chris Gethard, visitors were all in: “We would try to die for fun.”
CONTINUED CHAOS:
The madness didn’t stop at the Cannonball Slide. You could jump off a nearly twenty foot cliff into a piercing body of water and walk out with your shoulder almost dislocated from the intensity of the Tarzan Swing. This ride was where everyone verified just how big their balls were. Cued to the “Let Go!” of onlookers, male riders would often do flips before landing to display their toughness. The theatrics followed with female visitors plunging into the water and letting their bra float to the top before their bodies resurfaced. Oh, by the way, this is also the ride where someone died from a heart attack after jumping. That was 1 out of the 6 known deaths at the park. However, that still didn’t deter most guests from religiously visiting the premises every season.
The fun wasn’t limited to the summer either. Mulvihill was so fascinated by festivities that he threw Oktoberfests, German festivals, Polish festivals, and whatever else he could think of. Essentially, any culture had an alcohol festered celebration to match. Moreover, the park was divided into two main sects: The Water Park and Motor World. The havoc in Motor World was exacerbated by excessive drinking. Most of which was illegal, as the drunkards were minors. This area offered LOLA cars that could be driven on a designated driveway. However, some guests rode at their own discretion and ended up on Route 94. Surprisingly, no deaths took place at this particular attraction.
THE DEATHS:
With death always at bay at this park, let’s get into them. Constructed from cement, fiberglass, and asbestos, the Alpine Slide claimed the life of nineteen year old George Lasson Jr. While riding the infamously unstable slide, Lasson was thrown off course and struck his head on a rock. Unfortunately, the impact resulted in a short lived coma and he died not too long afterwards. Two years after this fatality, twenty seven year old Jeffrey Nathan was electrocuted on The Kayak Experience when his kayak flipped and he came into contact with a short circuit from an underwater fan. In that same year, fifthteen year old George Lopez drowned in the depths of the Tidal Wave Pool. His cause of death was later followed by Donald DePass and Gregory Grandchamps.
LEGACY:
Death and severe trauma were expected when attending Action Park. It was almost as though those were the very things making the place worthwhile. Although the park finally closed in 1996 on several counts of carelessness, insurance fraud, and shifts in New Jersey’s safety standards, many guests who got to experience the thrill of halfway suicide hold the park in high regard. Like Mulvihill intended, the park was truly a place where adolescents could express themselves without restriction, undergo extreme character development, and engage in illegal activities. It was a place where you would go and not know if you’d leave alive. It’s hard to imagine a place like Action Park existing today. Perhaps it’s for the better. Nonetheless, the park teaches us to consider the products of our time and the stories they allow us to tell.
