The loudness of the speakers is the first thing you notice at an amusement park, even before the screaming and fried dough smell. It’s loud enough that a small child pulling on a sleeve won’t be heard for a few seconds. The majority of park issues actually start during that brief interval. Not while riding the rides. in the gaps that separate them.
When parents enter these locations, they typically assume that the risk is mechanical. Abrupt stops, malfunctioning bolts, and the infrequent news report about a coaster gone wrong. However, the data presents a more subdued and uneasy picture. In 2016, emergency rooms nationwide reported about 30,000 injuries associated with carnivals and amusement parks, the majority of which had nothing to do with ride malfunctions. They resulted from sunburn, falls, dehydration, rider error, and the slow chaos of an exhausted family that had reached its breaking point.
Speaking with people who have actually visited these parks gives the impression that the season begins before it does. For years, pediatricians at facilities like Orlando Health Arnold Palmer Hospital have been subtly reiterating the same recommendation: apply sunscreen thirty minutes prior to arrival, not in the parking lot. SPF of at least 15. Reapplied every two hours, or more frequently if the children are perspiring. Since sunscreen isn’t really appropriate for infants younger than six months, they should be kept completely out of the sun. Before you witness a four-year-old with a burn across the back of their neck by noon, it may seem fussy.
The other silent emergency is dehydration. In July heat, kids who run between attractions lose water more quickly than most parents. Not juice, not slushies, not the vivid blue thing in the souvenir cup, just plain water. Despite what the marketing claims, sports drinks aren’t really made for a healthy seven-year-old. Additionally, the snacks are more important than they appear. In interviews, Marie Snodgrass, an injury prevention lead at C.S. Mott Children’s Hospital, stated quite bluntly that preparation is frequently the difference between a successful day and one that ends up at the first aid station. Fruit, cheese, peanut butter, or something high in protein. You can wait on the funnel cake.
Conversations about people, however, are more difficult. According to a recent C.S. Mott National Poll on Children’s Health, one in five parents had never discussed with their child what to do in the event of a separation. Considering how frequently it occurs, that figure is startling. Choose a meeting place before you enter, point to it, and ask the child to repeat it back. This advice has been repeated for decades by nearly all safety sources. Put your phone number on a tiny bracelet or the inside of a sleeve. To avoid having to describe an outfit from memory while your hands shake, take a picture of the kids wearing what they were wearing that day.
Something else worth considering was revealed by the same Mott poll. Just 69% of parents said they would report a ride operator who disregarded height or seat belt regulations, and less than half would report an operator over the phone. In contrast, 94% of parents said they would report a ride operator who appeared intoxicated or impaired. The gap there is difficult to ignore. We are less likely to report smaller infractions because they are the ones that subtly cause harm.
For dull, unglamorous reasons, there are height restrictions. A child who is nearly tall enough is still, mechanically, not tall enough because restraints are calibrated to bodies larger than a specific size. Families have also been reminded by the Epilepsy Foundation that certain rides have warning signs for particular medical conditions, which should be carefully read rather than quickly scanned.
All of this is not intended to make a summer day less joyful. There will still be long lines, loud rides, and somewhat fuzzy pictures. However, there is a commonality among the families that seem to manage it the best. They view the park more as a trip that requires preparation than as an escape. Silently, before anyone even fastens their seatbelts.
