Kingsland Point Park

The Lure of Kingsland Point Every town has its forbidden playground. For a young Adam Savage growing up in Sleepy Hollow, New York, that playground was the locked and abandoned lighthouse at Kingsland Point Park. Sitting on the eastern bank of the murky Hudson River, the site was a magnet for teenage bravado. On his 18th birthday in July 1985, Savage and his friend Rich scaled the fences to celebrate with a quick swim, unaware of what lurked just beneath the water's surface. Eight Feet to Impact The Hudson is a tidal estuary, choked with silt that reduces visibility to zero. Standing on the rocks, Savage dove headfirst into the brown water. He expected a cool plunge; instead, he struck a submerged boulder from a height of eight feet. The impact felt like a sledgehammer blow to the skull. While he escaped a concussion, his neck was severely compromised. He struggled back over two fences, walked home, and made the terrifying call to his mother. The Emergency Room Diagnosis At Phelps Memorial Hospital, doctors stabilized Savage on a backboard. X-rays revealed a chipped seventh vertebra. He had compressed his spine rather than snapping it, a stroke of pure, miraculous luck. Because of family connections, he was transferred to Columbia Presbyterian, enduring a tense ambulance ride where an EMT described the gruesome mechanics of a halo vest, a stabilizing device screwed directly into the skull. A Parent's Collapse When they arrived at the hospital, the tension finally broke. When the receptionist asked if the patient had ever been registered there, Savage's mother replied that he had been born in that exact hospital precisely 18 years earlier. Then, she fainted. It was a visceral display of parental stress. Savage emerged from the ordeal with no residual damage, recognizing that he belongs to a very fortunate minority of young men who survive such reckless leaps.