I suppose it won’t be too surprising to see Disney pop up in this answer.

I’ve told these stories before, but it’s been a while. But for some readers, these may be old news.

1) One that I’m proud of is getting the Spirit of Disneyland Award in 1995. At that time, it was Disneyland’s 40th anniversary, and the award had been given out 400 times (to put that in perspective, the summer crew in those days numbered around 11,000 cast members, though it was before Disney’s California Adventure existed). 

Someone anonymously nominated me (the selection crew knew who they were, but they requested that I not be told who it was). Then,  the selection crew basically spied on me at work…they wanted to see if I was as “Disney” as the nomination said. They watched how I interacted with guests, saw my work ethic, checked out my record, and found me worthy. I went to a ceremony at the Golden Horseshoe early one morning before the park opened, where those of us receiving the award had it presented to us along with a certificate at a breakfast banquet. The pin pictured in my last post was added to my nametag, so that I could show it off forever. Sadly, when I had a bad car accident in 2005 (I think…may have been 2006), my car was totaled, with the award inside.

2) Number two was during a shift at Disneyland (surprise, surprise), when I was a Lead making my rounds. I was visiting an ice cream cart in Critter Country when Control did an all-call over the radio (a transmission carried on all channels). I still remember it word for word.

“Control One to all units, Control One to all units, be advised that there is a CFA run to the Hungry Bear for a small child, not breathing. Once again, CFA to the Hungry Bear for a small child not breathing.”

My view when the call came

CFA stands for Central First Aid. The cart I was at was right outside the Hungry Bear. I decided that I should go up the ramp and help out with crowd control. After all, leads in those days wore collared shirts and ties, so I figured it would look good. Plus, CFA is on Main Street, a 5 minute run if they were going full speed in an empty park. This was a hot, crowded day, so I figured they’d be closer to 10-15 minutes away.

When I got to the top of the ramp, there was a large crowd of people to the left. Where I expected a management-type person to be taking charge, the only cast member I saw was a custodial sweeper, radio still in hand from calling the situation in to Control One. She apparently hadn’t moved since, frozen in shock.

I thought a word to myself that I would have gotten fired for saying out loud, and figured that it was on me now. So I ordered the sweeper to move the crowd back 20 feet and I approached a lady who was sitting on the ground, holding a limp child who looked to be five or six years old (though I’m no expert on determining age).

Back in 4th and 5th grade, we learned CPR in school. I was no longer certified, but that wasn’t stopping me. I told the lady to lay her son down, and when she did, telling me that he’d had a bad fever that morning but she didn’t want to let him down by not bringing him to Disneyland like she’d promised.

I put my ear to his mouth…nothing. I tipped his head back and put my finger in his mouth to check for any obstructions, and his tongue blocked my way…he had swallowed it. I dug it out and plugged his nose as I breathed into him. I was trying to remember how many breaths before I did chest compressions, and trying to figure out how hard to push on a kid this size when on the second breath, he started coughing. The custodial cast member told me afterwards that the crowd applauded, but I didn’t hear it. I was shaken…I’d never been in a situation like that before, and I was scared.

The lady held her boy, and started to get up. I asked why. “I want to take him on Splash Mountain,” she said…or something to that effect. I don’t remember it verbatim like the radio call. I told her that she needed to wait until First Aid showed up. They are staffed with registered nurses, so I wasn’t going to let her go when experts were on their way. She started to walk, and I blocked her way.

Fortunately, CFA arrived then and took over. I leaned over on the rail, halfway between euphoria of bringing the kid back and fear that I hadn’t done it right and that he was still in trouble. I felt like I needed to throw up. A security guard came over to ask me what the situation was, and I explained as best as I could. he patted me on the back and told me to head backstage (Disney-speak for any area where guests aren’t allowed) to gather myself, and that they would need a Statement.

Statements are written out whenever anything out-of-the-ordinary happens. There has to be a written record in case any questions come up later. It also is a record of who was involved, in case there is a need for more information. I was glad to get out of there…I wrote up the statement and give it to one of my managers to deliver to the right people.

A week or two later, I heard another call for a kid not breathing in an area that I was, near It’s a Small World. I sunk…even though it worked out once, doesn’t mean you look forward to being in that situation again. This time it was someone probably in his late teens. He was laying next to a rather large pile of very thick vomit, and not breathing. I got down next to him.

Thankfully, one of my managers got there right then. He knew about my other situation, and I think he didn’t like my chances this time around (the kid was PALE), because he literally pulled me away and onto my feet, pointed to a backstage gate close by, and told me to go back there.

Later he told me that the kid ended up being OK; he just didn’t want me to have to give CPR again so soon after the first one, which had really shaken me up.

3) The third, I think, has to be when I beat up Evil Stepdad #1. He was abusive. He had just bought a gun. He was drunk, and dragging my mom out to his van (which was also where he kept his gun). I had a strong feeling that I was never going to see her again if he took her.

I was 12, and he was somewhere in his 50s. I caught up to him and my mom on the porch and threw a right hook that caught him in the jaw. I swear, I still remember exactly how his stubble felt on my knuckles.

He punched back, I punched him…we traded blows. He then went inside and passed out from the booze (I don’t think I was anywhere near strong enough to knock him out…and he once took the weight of a car when my mom and I were trying to leave one day, he laid down behind the car in the driveway, and my mom tried to run over him…until I begged her to stop because I didn’t want her to go to jail. In other words, he was pretty tough for a complete waste of protoplasm.

I’ll never know for sure if I saved my mom’s life that day, but I have a feeling I did.

So there you have it. Sorry I got so wordy…those were actually the  abbreviated versions of those stories. I figure a bunch of people tl;dr’d it anyway, but when you ask a deep question, you get a deep answer. Thanks for asking, Kam.