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Amusement park risks nearly impossible to know - NY Daily News
Jason Silverstein
NEW YORK DAILY NEWS
Sunday, May 29, 2016, 5:00 AM
As kids and families prepare to pour into amusement parks nationwide, even the most eager thrill-seeker has to wonder: How do you know you’re safe?
For the most part, you can’t — and the parks won’t tell us.
The American amusement parks that are teeming with towering, terrifying rides are immune to federal investigation — and the industry has largely failed to be transparent about its potential problems — even while touting its own safety record summer after summer.
Amusement parks report more than 1,000 injuries every year, and barely a summer goes by without a ride-related death or maiming making headlines.
But major cases often end in confidential settlements, keeping the dirty details unknown. Meanwhile, about half of the parks ignore the only annual injury survey
With rides regulated through a mind-boggling patchwork of state laws — and some states having no regulation at all — it’s impossible to get the full picture of park perils.
“There’s no way of knowing what’s really going on in the amusement park industry,” said Jeffrey Reiff, a Philadelphia attorney who handles dozens of lawsuits every year over amusement park accidents. “Unless there’s a death or a catastrophic injury, you never hear about it. ... The amusement park industry is going out of their way to prevent you from learning how dangerous it is.”
For those who lost loved ones on amusement rides, the industry’s shielded secrecy is unfathomable.
“It’s so insulting,” Alycia Loshaw told the Daily News. Iraq war veteran James Hackemer, her ex-husband and the father of her two daughters, died in 2011 when he flew out of the Ride of Steel roller coaster at upstate Darien Lake Theme Park. The girls, 3 and 4 at the time, were at the park when their dad took his final ride. Today, amusement parks represent “something awful” to them, Loshaw said.
“I don’t want to put my kids on those rides,” she said.
“There should be something, anything, so everyone would know it’s a safe place.”
A roller coaster loophole
The U.S. has more than 400 amusement parks, according to the International Association of Amusement Parks and Attractions, or IAAPA, a trade group.
Many are brand names tied to summer memories: Disneyland, Wonderland, Six Flags. According to the association, parks host 335 million guests per year.
But despite their promise of chilling thrills — rides hundreds of feet in the air, at speeds up to 80 mph — these parks face less federal regulation than baby rattles and lip gloss. Which is to say: None.
The Consumer Product Safety Commission lost its power to oversee parks in 1981, when Congress passed the so-called “roller coaster loophole.”
The legislation said “fixed site” amusement parks — the kind at one permanent location — do not count as consumer products, and therefore are not the federal government’s business.
The commission is only authorized to investigate inflatable rides and so-called “mobile parks” — such as small carnivals that pop up for a few days.
The agency’s latest fatalities report, from 2005, found 51 deaths from rides between 1987 and 2000 — nearly four every year, according to emergency room reports. More than two-thirds of those deaths came from the “fixed site” parks the agency can’t regulate.
A carnival of laws
With no one agency keeping watch on amusement parks, rides are regulated state-by-state.
About half of states — including California, New York and Pennsylvania — require regular inspections from a government agency and allow the state government to investigate accidents.
But there are also about 10 states — including Oregon, Washington and Tennessee — that have no state oversight, leaving inspections up to county governments or private inspectors. Six states — Nevada, Utah, South Dakota, Mississippi, Alabama and Wyoming — have no regulation at all.
And Florida, one of America’s amusement park capitals, exempts its three biggest parks — Walt Disney World, Universal Studios and Busch Gardens — from accident reports and investigations.
Laura Woodburn, of the nonprofit National Association of Amusement Ride Safety Officials, said many state laws are “definitely strong” and noted no park “benefits from not making sure their equipment is at its best.”
But the litany of laws thwarts full comprehension of the industry’s flaws.
Sen. Ed Markey (D-Mass.) is one of the few public officials leading the charge for national oversight. Starting in 1999 — after four people died in one week — Markey introduced a bill in six consecutive Congresses calling for Consumer Products to once again have jurisdiction over the industry. The bill died every year.
“It’s an issue that has simply never risen to the top of the agenda in Congress, in spite of these tragic accidents,” said Rep. Carolyn Maloney (D-N.Y.), who co-sponsored the legislation.
Each time, the bill was opposed by the industry — which argued, in part, that the low number of deaths and serious injuries proved federal oversight was unnecessary.
Unknown numbers
But the only group monitoring park injuries on a national scale is IAAPA — a trade group that openly opposes federal regulation.
Every year since 2001, IAAPA has commissioned the National Safety Council to take a voluntary survey of injury data. The reports regularly offer a rosy picture of ride safety — showing a steady decline in incidents and leading the association to say the chance of a serious injury is now “1 in 16 million.”
Based on its data, the group says there’s “no evidence federal oversight would improve on the already excellent safety record of the industry.” That record, though, is based on an industry that’s reluctant to share information.
In 2001, IAAPA asked 459 parks to submit data, according to its reports. The next two years, it asked only 403.
With one exception, the number of parks asked to answer the survey has fallen every year since then. In 2013, the group invited 357 parks to participate. Of those, only 203 submitted any injury data. In its latest report, for 2014, IAAPA asked 405 parks to share data. Only 188 parks — or 46% of those asked — sent in injury information. Despite its dwindling responses, IAAPA’s reports insist injuries are always decreasing — from 2,486 in 2001-2002 to 1,146 in 2014.
In an email statement, the group said it is “confident (the data) reflects how rarely injuries occur.”
A death at a park
Sgt. James Hackemer had been suffering for years and went to a park to finally enjoy himself. An Iraq War vet, Hackemer returned from combat in 2008 as a shell of his former self. A roadside explosion left him with no legs and severe brain damage. He moved in with his family in Gowanda, near Buffalo, and spent years rehabilitating.
So when he, his two girls and other family members hit nearby Darien Lake Theme Park on July 8, 2011, he craved just one day of carefree fun.
“It was celebratory,” recalled ex-wife Loshaw, who was a fellow Army sergeant. “It was something he wouldn’t have typically done.”
Hackemer checked with park services for ride-safety instructions, according to a sheriff’s office report from that day. Then he and his 19-year-old nephew went to the Ride of Steel, which stands at 200 feet and at one point hits 73 mph.
Hackemer flew out of his seat sometime during the ride and died. He was 29.
Two years later, Darien Lake settled a wrongful death lawsuit on confidential terms.
There was no public revelation of whether Hackemer died from a ride deficiency, park negligence or simply an accident. Darien Lake, which did not return calls from The News, did not acknowledge any wrongdoing.
Amusement park deaths are rare. But the parks often ensure lawsuits over them end the same way: with a confidential settlement and no admission of wrongdoing.
“I’ve never seen one park say, ‘We did something wrong,’” attorney Reiff said.
In 2011, 3-year-old Jayson Dansby fell from a roller coaster at the Go Bananas park in Norridge, Ill., and was fatally struck by the barreling ride. Go Bananas said there was no evidence of an error and settled for $3.1 million.
In 2013, 52-year-old Rosy Esparza slipped out of a restraint and plunged to her death from a roller coaster at Six Flags Over Texas. The park settled on confidential terms.
Loshaw said her ex-husband’s death could have led to lessons learned for the rest of the industry. Instead, she said, it’s “almost like it never happened.”
“It created a conversation for a while, but just like anything else, things just go on,” she said.
“Even the people I know that made that conversation tell me they still go back (to parks). Because ‘it was just one story, it’s so rare.’ But every death should have a huge impact, not be skirted around like it didn’t happen. We have to live with this every day.”
Jason Silverstein
NEW YORK DAILY NEWS
Sunday, May 29, 2016, 5:00 AM
As kids and families prepare to pour into amusement parks nationwide, even the most eager thrill-seeker has to wonder: How do you know you’re safe?
For the most part, you can’t — and the parks won’t tell us.
The American amusement parks that are teeming with towering, terrifying rides are immune to federal investigation — and the industry has largely failed to be transparent about its potential problems — even while touting its own safety record summer after summer.
Amusement parks report more than 1,000 injuries every year, and barely a summer goes by without a ride-related death or maiming making headlines.
But major cases often end in confidential settlements, keeping the dirty details unknown. Meanwhile, about half of the parks ignore the only annual injury survey
With rides regulated through a mind-boggling patchwork of state laws — and some states having no regulation at all — it’s impossible to get the full picture of park perils.
“There’s no way of knowing what’s really going on in the amusement park industry,” said Jeffrey Reiff, a Philadelphia attorney who handles dozens of lawsuits every year over amusement park accidents. “Unless there’s a death or a catastrophic injury, you never hear about it. ... The amusement park industry is going out of their way to prevent you from learning how dangerous it is.”
For those who lost loved ones on amusement rides, the industry’s shielded secrecy is unfathomable.
“It’s so insulting,” Alycia Loshaw told the Daily News. Iraq war veteran James Hackemer, her ex-husband and the father of her two daughters, died in 2011 when he flew out of the Ride of Steel roller coaster at upstate Darien Lake Theme Park. The girls, 3 and 4 at the time, were at the park when their dad took his final ride. Today, amusement parks represent “something awful” to them, Loshaw said.
“I don’t want to put my kids on those rides,” she said.
“There should be something, anything, so everyone would know it’s a safe place.”
A roller coaster loophole
The U.S. has more than 400 amusement parks, according to the International Association of Amusement Parks and Attractions, or IAAPA, a trade group.
Many are brand names tied to summer memories: Disneyland, Wonderland, Six Flags. According to the association, parks host 335 million guests per year.
But despite their promise of chilling thrills — rides hundreds of feet in the air, at speeds up to 80 mph — these parks face less federal regulation than baby rattles and lip gloss. Which is to say: None.
The Consumer Product Safety Commission lost its power to oversee parks in 1981, when Congress passed the so-called “roller coaster loophole.”
The legislation said “fixed site” amusement parks — the kind at one permanent location — do not count as consumer products, and therefore are not the federal government’s business.
The commission is only authorized to investigate inflatable rides and so-called “mobile parks” — such as small carnivals that pop up for a few days.
The agency’s latest fatalities report, from 2005, found 51 deaths from rides between 1987 and 2000 — nearly four every year, according to emergency room reports. More than two-thirds of those deaths came from the “fixed site” parks the agency can’t regulate.
A carnival of laws
With no one agency keeping watch on amusement parks, rides are regulated state-by-state.
About half of states — including California, New York and Pennsylvania — require regular inspections from a government agency and allow the state government to investigate accidents.
But there are also about 10 states — including Oregon, Washington and Tennessee — that have no state oversight, leaving inspections up to county governments or private inspectors. Six states — Nevada, Utah, South Dakota, Mississippi, Alabama and Wyoming — have no regulation at all.
And Florida, one of America’s amusement park capitals, exempts its three biggest parks — Walt Disney World, Universal Studios and Busch Gardens — from accident reports and investigations.
Laura Woodburn, of the nonprofit National Association of Amusement Ride Safety Officials, said many state laws are “definitely strong” and noted no park “benefits from not making sure their equipment is at its best.”
But the litany of laws thwarts full comprehension of the industry’s flaws.
Sen. Ed Markey (D-Mass.) is one of the few public officials leading the charge for national oversight. Starting in 1999 — after four people died in one week — Markey introduced a bill in six consecutive Congresses calling for Consumer Products to once again have jurisdiction over the industry. The bill died every year.
“It’s an issue that has simply never risen to the top of the agenda in Congress, in spite of these tragic accidents,” said Rep. Carolyn Maloney (D-N.Y.), who co-sponsored the legislation.
Each time, the bill was opposed by the industry — which argued, in part, that the low number of deaths and serious injuries proved federal oversight was unnecessary.
Unknown numbers
But the only group monitoring park injuries on a national scale is IAAPA — a trade group that openly opposes federal regulation.
Every year since 2001, IAAPA has commissioned the National Safety Council to take a voluntary survey of injury data. The reports regularly offer a rosy picture of ride safety — showing a steady decline in incidents and leading the association to say the chance of a serious injury is now “1 in 16 million.”
Based on its data, the group says there’s “no evidence federal oversight would improve on the already excellent safety record of the industry.” That record, though, is based on an industry that’s reluctant to share information.
In 2001, IAAPA asked 459 parks to submit data, according to its reports. The next two years, it asked only 403.
With one exception, the number of parks asked to answer the survey has fallen every year since then. In 2013, the group invited 357 parks to participate. Of those, only 203 submitted any injury data. In its latest report, for 2014, IAAPA asked 405 parks to share data. Only 188 parks — or 46% of those asked — sent in injury information. Despite its dwindling responses, IAAPA’s reports insist injuries are always decreasing — from 2,486 in 2001-2002 to 1,146 in 2014.
In an email statement, the group said it is “confident (the data) reflects how rarely injuries occur.”
A death at a park
Sgt. James Hackemer had been suffering for years and went to a park to finally enjoy himself. An Iraq War vet, Hackemer returned from combat in 2008 as a shell of his former self. A roadside explosion left him with no legs and severe brain damage. He moved in with his family in Gowanda, near Buffalo, and spent years rehabilitating.
So when he, his two girls and other family members hit nearby Darien Lake Theme Park on July 8, 2011, he craved just one day of carefree fun.
“It was celebratory,” recalled ex-wife Loshaw, who was a fellow Army sergeant. “It was something he wouldn’t have typically done.”
Hackemer checked with park services for ride-safety instructions, according to a sheriff’s office report from that day. Then he and his 19-year-old nephew went to the Ride of Steel, which stands at 200 feet and at one point hits 73 mph.
Hackemer flew out of his seat sometime during the ride and died. He was 29.
Two years later, Darien Lake settled a wrongful death lawsuit on confidential terms.
There was no public revelation of whether Hackemer died from a ride deficiency, park negligence or simply an accident. Darien Lake, which did not return calls from The News, did not acknowledge any wrongdoing.
Amusement park deaths are rare. But the parks often ensure lawsuits over them end the same way: with a confidential settlement and no admission of wrongdoing.
“I’ve never seen one park say, ‘We did something wrong,’” attorney Reiff said.
In 2011, 3-year-old Jayson Dansby fell from a roller coaster at the Go Bananas park in Norridge, Ill., and was fatally struck by the barreling ride. Go Bananas said there was no evidence of an error and settled for $3.1 million.
In 2013, 52-year-old Rosy Esparza slipped out of a restraint and plunged to her death from a roller coaster at Six Flags Over Texas. The park settled on confidential terms.
Loshaw said her ex-husband’s death could have led to lessons learned for the rest of the industry. Instead, she said, it’s “almost like it never happened.”
“It created a conversation for a while, but just like anything else, things just go on,” she said.
“Even the people I know that made that conversation tell me they still go back (to parks). Because ‘it was just one story, it’s so rare.’ But every death should have a huge impact, not be skirted around like it didn’t happen. We have to live with this every day.”
