Written by Brooke-Lauren Montgomery
The day I said, "You worry too much," was the day I came face to face with death. I was carefree, bold, and (ignorantly) brave. When I was little, I wanted to ride the biggest rides I laid eyes on. When I would go to the fair with my mom and dad, at the age of four, I would want to ride rides such as The Zipper, The High Roller, and The Hammer. I was absolutely fearless. When my dad would get on the ride, I would be standing next to my mom in disappointment, watching him get to have all the fun. When I was finally tall enough to ride the bigger rides, it was like, "Look out, now, Brooke's on a mission!" My dad rode all the rides with me. Because of my lack of fear for rides, my dad nick named me "Woo", because every ride I rode was "no big woo" to me.
That all changed on Tuesday, June 13, 2000. I had just turned nine years old, and I had gone with my grandparents to a family reunion in San Antonio, Texas. My grandparent's knew my love for amusement parks, so a day after the reunion, they took me to Fiesta Texas. To say that I was excited was the understatement of the year! Rides awaited me, for Pete's sake!
The morning of the big day, while we were getting ready in the hotel, my grandma said, "Now, Brooke, you better be careful and stay right with Grandpa. We don't want you to get kidnapped."
My grandmother, God bless her, was (and still is) a very cautious person who always watched out for her family. In the summer of 2000, it was me she wanted to protect from harm. She always told me, along with the other grandkids, to be careful. She had said it so frequently that it began to annoy me, and I would just "pooh-pooh" it off, and think, yeah yeah...
After pulling into the parking lot at Fiesta Texas, my eyes spotted rides, and I was just eager as all get out to jump on the first huge ride. As we were walking across the parking lot up to the front gate, I remember my grandma saying, "Brooke, be careful. These rides are dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."
Irritated beyond belief at that point, I nearly cut her sentence off when I said, "Yeah, yeah, I know. You worry too much."
As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I knew I would regret saying that. The words seemed to just tumble out of my mouth without any restraint, but it was too late, I had already said them and couldn't take them back.
<<This is part of the line for The Poltergeist. Also, in the background is Scream.
My grandpa rode rides with me while my grandma sat in the shade waiting for us to get off each ride. While my grandpa and I were standing in line for Scream, I spotted a totally insane ride across from it, called The Poltergeist, that I couldn't wait to get in line for. The Poltergeist looked like a bowl of spaghetti. It had two loops, several cork screws, sharp turns and dips that were all jumbled together in a crazy, mass clump. How my eyes were wide with anticipation before we even got onto Scream!
There was a man standing in front of us, and I asked him if he rode The Poltergeist and he said he had. He told me that it was fun, but it was rough, and that the harnesses have special, thick padding so that your head and neck wouldn't be injured from all the twists and turns. I asked my grandpa if he would ride it with me, and he said he would.
The entrance to The Poltergeist was outside and had rails that held the line. It curved to the right and then to the left several times before it lead into the station with the roller coaster cars. On that particular day, there was no line, unless you count waiting one turn to ride, a line. As I was standing behind this girl, waiting for my turn, I felt this feeling I had never felt before while riding rides. I did not hear an audible voice, but this feeling was like a whisper that said, "You do not need to get on this ride."
I'm sure I furrowed my eyebrows at this since it had never happened before. I had never in my life been nervous to ride a ride; however, this was different from feeling nervous. It was a very uncomfortable feeling that was overwhelming. I tried to shake it off because I desperately wanted to ride that bad boy of a ride. As I moved forward and took my spot to be next, the feeling persisted. Again, I pushed it down.
Typically, I would be “chomping at the bit” to get onto the next ride once I knew I would for sure ride the ride I was standing in line for. But, this time, my mind was only wrapped around this one certain moment, this one particular feeling, the Still Small Voice that pricked the forefront of my mind, persisting that I shouldn’t board the roller coaster. Instead of my normal being ecstatic about the next ride my butt would hit the seat in, I was panicking on the inside.
When the roller coaster came through and we were let on, the feeling got even more persistent, "You do not need to get on this ride."
I was beginning to feel extremely panicked because I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to get off the ride and look like a wimp, but I didn't want to stay on and find out why I had that feeling. But, I picked the latter and told myself everything would be okay.
As they went through and pushed the harnesses down, again, I felt, "You do not need to get on this ride." It would not stop, and my heart was near pounding.
<<<I sat where the girl on the left side of the cart is sitting, in that general area of the train.
I kept forcing the feeling down and tried to relax. The workers of the ride began to go through checking people's harnesses, pulling up on them to make sure they were securely latched in place. They checked everyone's...everyone's but mine. I then felt like crying because I knew that wasn't normal. My mind was screaming, wait a minute! You didn't you check mine! Wait just a second! Something's wrong! But, I didn't say a word.
The next thing I knew, one of the workers held up a hand and signaled to another worker. That worker said, "All clear", and the third worker hit a button and we took off down the track. I will never forget what I saw when we took off. My harness flew up and over my head. At first I thought I was just seeing things, that the harness was actually latched in and I was safe, but I looked down and saw no harness whatsoever. I even touched my chest to make completely sure. When I looked up, there it was, over my head just taunting me, smiling at me as if it were saying, I'm not where I'm supposed to be! And you're going to die!
Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. I knew not to try to grab for it because I didn't want to risk catching my arm on a pole and getting it yanked off. So, I held onto my grandpa's shirt sleeve with my right hand, and the side of the car with my left.
I screamed, "Grandpa! My harness isn't down!"
But I knew it was useless for three reasons- He was already hard of hearing, the coaster on its tracks mixed with excited screams from its riders drowned out all hope, and the thick padding from his harness made it impossible for him to see me.
Then the loop was right before my eyes on the track, and at that point I knew for sure that things were out of my control. I remember thinking, this is it. I am going to die. I just shut my eyes and I prayed in my head, "Okay, God, if I am going to die, please tell my mom and dad that I love them." At that moment, I wasn't afraid. I was at peace with dying if that was how it was supposed to be. I just hoped that I didn't have to feel the pain long, that I would die quickly, hopefully on impact.
I felt this gravitational pull into the seat as the cart turned upside down, and then I felt the cart come back down, right side up, and I realized that I had not fallen out. I opened my eyes, amazed that I was still alive and unharmed. At that moment, the coaster went through a couple of cork screws and sharp twists and turns before the harness slammed down on top of me, trapping my head and neck underneath it. I freaked out, afraid that after I survived going through a loop, I’d suffocate to death, so I yanked my head out, hearing my neck pop. When the harness slammed down, I heard it latch into place, and that time, I knew for sure it was in securely. Seconds after it slammed down, we went through a bigger loop. After a few more twists and turns, we came to an abrupt stop on a flat plain right before the train was meant to pull into the station to load its next set of passengers.
<<Where Grandpa and I sat out in the heat
We sat out in the San Antonio heat for about fifteen minutes, trapped under the harnesses. I said absolutely nothing. I could only stare ahead and blink occasionally. No words came to my mind, no tears came to my eyes, and no shivers jolted through my body. I just sat there. Eyes forward. Silent.
Behind me, I heard two ladies say, "That little girl is so brave."
My grandpa just thought they meant I was brave for riding the ride. He was completely oblivious of the show that happened right before their eyes just moments before.
When we finally got pulled into the station, I saw one older teenage worker of the ride bent over crying, while another one stood by with a serious look plastered on his face.
My grandpa went up to him and said, "What seems to be the trouble?"
The young man slowly said, "Technical difficulties, sir."
My grandpa simply wanted to know why we sat out in the boiling heat for fifteen minutes. While he still remained uninformed of what really happened, I still remained quiet and conveyed calm.
I was all together until I saw my grandma sitting at a table under the shade, and then I lost it. I ran to her screaming and bawling. She became panicked and took me by the shoulders while yelling, "What's the matter? What happened?! What is it?!"
<<Where I ran to my grandmother screaming underneath that yellow tarp.
She couldn't understand what I was saying because I was in complete hysterics. She could only make out bits and pieces, and it was enough that it really stirred her up. When she asked my grandpa, he couldn't answer, and when he couldn't answer, she got even more upset and said, "Well, we will just go find one of park rangers!"
We ran into one shortly, and when my grandmother told the park ranger, the park ranger said, "Yes, we know. We have already been informed of it, and they are getting fired as we speak."
I remember a park ranger going into one of the stores in the park and giving me a tweety bird with a blue blanket attached to one wing. (A couple of years later, I went looking for that tweety bird and I couldn’t find it. When I asked my mom if she knew where it was, she said she more than likely got rid of it because she didn’t want to be reminded of that day. I wanted it. Though, at the time, I wasn’t sure why.)
We were also informed that they had caught what had happened on tape, and that they also had tried to push the emergency stop button, but it would not stop the coaster. I never got to see the tape, but I wanted to badly. Also, in 2002, they took out the over the shoulder harnesses and made secure lap restraints with a buckle that attaches to ensure if the pressure were to release on the restraint, the buckle would keep it down.
That day forever changed my outlook on thrill rides. There is never a time that I get on a ride and don’t check the harness, or whatever restraint it has, to make sure it is securely locked in, before the worker even gets anywhere near the controls for the ride. I’ve been able to slowly rebuild my courage to roller coasters with loops. My boyfriend took me to San Antonio to meet his family. While we were there, we went to Fiesta Texas and I rode The Poltergeist. It had been thirteen years since the last time I rode it, saw it up close and personal—the ride that traumatized me as a child. I showed fear that it would not rule over me. And, by riding the ride that nearly took my life thirteen years ago, I got the last laugh. I somewhat prepared myself to ride it again. A few months ago, I got on Youtube and watched a video someone posted while they were on the ride.
As I was in line for the poltergeist with Andrew, flashbacks kept hitting me. I stood in line, and I watched as passengers were loaded onto the coaster. My nerves were on edge. When it took off, the same noise that I heard so long ago sounded in my ears. Hearing that eerie noise upon its take off, and seeing it shoot off at the speed of light, made me burst into tears. I was now terrified. I had gotten in line around the same place I did years ago. I sat on the left side of the cart as I did then, too. My body was shaking like a leaf. My lips were trembling, my legs and arms were shaking, and my whole being was tensed. I pulled the lap restraint down and buckled the extra safety buckle that ensured to keep the restraint down, should it release. People stared at me as I sat there with tears pouring out of my eyes.
After the restraint was latched securely to my liking, all of a sudden it lifted up. Panicked, I frantically pointed at it and said, “My thing isn’t down!” Then I realized it was because they released the restraint to let someone off. After pushing it back down again, I held Andrew’s hand tightly. As I looked forward, I noticed they still had the same decorations mounted on the wall they did years ago. I watched as one worker of the ride raised a thumb up, signaling to the other two workers. I knew we were about to get launched. I heard, “All clear,” and that sound that makes my skin crawl, rang through my ears as we shot off from zero to sixty miles an hour in less than four seconds.
I saw the loop before me and I shut my eyes. I kept them shut through most of it. It was just as rough of a ride as it was then, minus the harnesses. It’s so strange that this time through seemed to go by in the blink of an eye, but while I was on the ride that day in June of 2000, it felt like forever. I honestly think God slowed time down or something, because I had time to make sure my harness was for sure not latched, to scream at my grandpa, to cling to his shirt and the side of the cart, to see the loop coming and to pray before I went upside down. But, on Sunday, May 26, 2013, the loop came in seconds. It is amazing to me. Everything replayed through my mind as we rode it. I went through the cork screws. I saw the second loop I went through after the harness was pushed down by the Hand of God. We sat outside for a minute once it was over, while they were loading the next set of passengers on the second train, where my grandpa and I sat back then. I saw the place where I had seen the bent over teenager crying. I walked down the ramp and saw the shaded area with the tables where I ran screaming to my grandmother. Was it scary? Absolutely—just as horrifying as it was then. That sound that the coaster makes upon take off will haunt me the rest of my life. But I showed satan I refuse to be ruled by his demon of fear.
I still have a couple of mementoes from that day. I still have the shirt I wore—a small Gap t-shirt with a heart in the center of it, the filling of the heart being an American flag…it’s a little girl’s Guess Jeans shirt that I have hanging on the knob of one of my closet doors. I also kept the entrance tickets that say, “two seniors” and “one child”. They have Batman on the front. They’ve faded a little since then, but definitely readable. You would think that with as bad of a memory as this was, I wouldn’t want any reminders of that day. But, I’ve figured out why I chose to keep these mementoes. When I look at these things, I’m reminded that a small miracle happened on that scorching day in June 2000. I learned not to take life for granted, because you never know when your time will be up. And for that revelation, I am thankful.
<<Where we ate right after we left the park. I still remember where we sat. I wasn't hungry.
I remember, as we left the park, while stepping off the curb and onto the parking lot, saying, "Grandma, I am never saying you worry too much again." And I never have, and never will.
And if people should ask me, "Do you believe in God?"
My answer, without hesitancy, is, "Yes."
