Action Park New Jersey USA: What Really Happened at the World’s Most Dangerous Theme Park

Action Park New Jersey USA: What Really Happened at the World’s Most Dangerous Theme Park

If you grew up in the Tri-State area during the eighties or nineties, the mere mention of Action Park New Jersey USA probably makes your skin itch with the phantom memory of gravel-scraped knees. It wasn't just a park. It was a rite of passage. People called it "Traction Park," "Accident Park," or my personal favorite, "Class Action Park." You didn't just go there to swim; you went there to survive.

Gene Mulvihill, the man behind Great American Recreation, basically looked at safety regulations and decided they were more like "suggestions." He wanted to build a place where the visitor was in control. That sounds great on a brochure, right? In reality, it meant letting twelve-year-olds operate motorboats that went 30 miles per hour and allowing teenagers to design water slides with physics that would make a NASA engineer weep.

The park sat in Vernon, tucked away in the Sussex County mountains. It was beautiful, rugged, and absolutely chaotic. While Disney was busy perfecting the "It's a Small World" animatronics, Action Park was busy figuring out how to launch humans into a freezing cold pond from a swinging rope. There was no corporate polish. It was raw. It was dangerous. Honestly, it’s a miracle any of us made it out without a permanent limp.

The Cannonball Loop and the Myth of Engineering

You’ve seen the photo. It’s a yellow tube with a literal vertical loop at the end. That was the Cannonball Loop. It is perhaps the most iconic symbol of why Action Park New Jersey USA was a fever dream come to life. Legend has it—and by legend, I mean actual accounts from former employees like those featured in the Class Action Park documentary—that they offered employees $100 to test it.

It didn't go well.

📖 Related: Philly to DC Amtrak: What Most People Get Wrong About the Northeast Corridor

The first few testers came out with bloody noses and mouth lacerations. Why? Because the centrifugal force was so poorly calculated that riders were being slammed into the top of the loop. They eventually added some padding, which reportedly got scraped off by the friction of human skin. Then there was the issue of people getting stuck at the top of the loop. There was a little hatch they had to use to crawl out, smelling of salt water and regret. It only stayed open for a few weeks in the mid-eighties before the Advisory Board on Carnival Amusement Ride Safety shut it down. But that short window was enough to cement its status in the hall of fame for terrible ideas.

Why the Water Was Different

Most water parks use heavily chlorinated, heated pools. Not here. The water at Action Park New Jersey USA came straight out of the ground or from nearby springs. It was ice cold. Even in the middle of a humid July afternoon, hitting the water at the bottom of the "Cliff Jump" felt like a physical assault.

The Alpine Slide was another beast entirely. Imagine a giant concrete and fiberglass track winding down a mountain. Now, imagine a plastic cart with a "brake" that worked maybe 40% of the time. If you went too fast, you'd fly off the track into the weeds and rocks. If you went too slow, the guy behind you—who was definitely a meathead from Long Island—would rear-end you at full speed. The "Action Park Tan" was a very real thing; it was just a giant patch of road rash on your thigh from sliding across the fiberglass.

The Gritty Reality of the Wave Pool

They called it "The Grave Pool." That’s dark, but it wasn't exactly a joke. This was the first inland wave pool in the country, and it was intense. Most modern wave pools are gentle. This one? It was a churning ocean of chaos.

👉 See also: Omaha to Las Vegas: How to Pull Off the Trip Without Overpaying or Losing Your Mind

The lifeguards were mostly local kids who were overworked and, let’s be honest, probably a bit overwhelmed. On a busy weekend, they were pulling dozens of people out of the water every hour. The waves were so strong and the crowd so dense that if you lost your footing, you were basically at the mercy of the machine. According to various New Jersey Department of Labor records, there were multiple fatalities in that pool over the years. It’s a sobering reminder that underneath the nostalgia, there were real consequences to the lack of oversight.

A Culture of "Self-Regulation"

Mulvihill’s philosophy was built on the idea that people should be responsible for their own safety. He hated the idea of "nanny state" regulations. This led to things like the Motorworld section, where the "Super Go-Karts" could be rigged to go way faster than they should have. Kids would take their shirts off and use them to jam the governors on the engines.

The staff wasn't much better. You had sixteen-year-olds in charge of rides that could genuinely kill you. There were stories of ride operators drinking on the job or just leaving their posts. It was the Wild West, but with more sunburns and overpriced soda.

  • The Tank Ride: Small tanks in a pool that shot tennis balls. The fumes from the engines were so thick people would get dizzy.
  • The Kayak Experience: An underwater fan meant to create "whitewater" actually ended up electrocuting a rider in 1982 when it short-circuited.
  • The Battle Action Bridge: People would just pelt each other with balls. It was less of a ride and more of a sanctioned riot.

The Financial House of Cards

You might wonder how a place with so many lawsuits stayed open for nearly twenty years. The answer is as wild as the rides. Mulvihill created his own insurance company—London & Overseas Insurance, Ltd.—which was basically a shell company based in the Cayman Islands. He was essentially insuring himself.

✨ Don't miss: North Shore Shrimp Trucks: Why Some Are Worth the Hour Drive and Others Aren't

Eventually, the law caught up. In the early nineties, Great American Recreation faced a massive tax debt and a mountain of legal trouble. Mulvihill pleaded guilty to several corporate crimes related to the insurance scheme. By 1996, the park finally shuttered. It was the end of an era. The park was sold, rebranded as Mountain Creek, and turned into a much safer, much more "normal" water park. They even brought back a version of the name briefly as "Action Park" in 2014 for a nostalgia play, but the soul—the dangerous, unregulated, terrifying soul—was gone.

Does the Legend Live Up to the Reality?

Honestly, yeah. Usually, nostalgia polishes the edges of our memories, making things seem better or more intense than they were. With Action Park New Jersey USA, the reality was actually weirder than the stories. There are people today who still carry scars—literally—from the Alpine Slide.

There's a reason people are still obsessed with it. We live in a world that is incredibly "bubble-wrapped." Everything has a sensor, a warning label, and a liability waiver. Action Park represented a time when that wasn't true. It was a place where you could actually get hurt, and for some reason, people loved it for that. It was the ultimate "hold my beer" environment.

But we shouldn't forget the cost. Six people died at the park during its original run. That’s a heavy price for a day of thrills. When we talk about the park now, it’s usually with a mix of laughter and a shudder, acknowledging that it was a miracle it existed as long as it did.

Actionable Takeaways for the Modern Explorer

If you’re looking to scratch that itch for adventure or want to see where the madness happened, here is what you can actually do today:

  1. Visit Mountain Creek: The site of the original park is still a functioning water park and ski resort in Vernon, NJ. Some of the original topography is there, though the "death traps" have been replaced by rides that actually follow the laws of physics.
  2. Check out the Museum of Interesting Things: Occasionally, New Jersey historical societies or pop-up museums will feature artifacts from the park, including the infamous "warning" signs.
  3. Watch the Documentaries: "Class Action Park" (on Max) is the gold standard. It features interviews with former employees and Gene Mulvihill’s family. It’s the best way to see the actual footage of the Cannonball Loop in action without risking a concussion.
  4. Hike the Area: The surrounding Sussex County hills are still beautiful. You can hike near the resort and see where the old Alpine Slide tracks used to cut through the brush.
  5. Read "Action Park" by Andy Mulvihill: Gene’s son wrote a book that gives a surprisingly candid look at what it was like to grow up as the "test dummy" for these rides.

The era of Action Park New Jersey USA is gone, and legally, it can never come back. That’s probably for the best. But for those who were there, the smell of sunblock and swamp water will always trigger a very specific kind of adrenaline—the kind that only comes when you aren't 100% sure you're going to make it to the bottom of the slide.