CPR training, instincts come together in story of survival

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CPR training, instincts come together in story of survival

By Heather Albert

One chair, a simple latch, a couple of precocious kids and a pool. The recipe for tragedy can be a simple one.

That’s exactly what happened on Aug. 19, 1992, when a 4-year-old boy pulled a chair over to a pool fence, climbed up and unlatched the gate, opening the way for his 18-month-old brother to head toward danger. 

Serendipity

That July, Jacob Petersen’s Boy Scout Troop had been through CPR certification with the Mesa Fire Department. Half of the Scouts started out on adult dummies, and the other half started with baby dummies.

“We were going to rotate, but the way it worked out, I spent almost the entire time training on a baby dummy,” said Petersen, now a Substation Electrician, Distribution Substation Maintenance – East. “That’s where I feel like the first part of this miracle began.”

Petersen got his certification card but didn’t think he’d ever use it. He was just a 15-year-old, after all.

About a month later, he got a phone call from a woman at his church, Shelley Conway, asking him to mow her lawn. He hung up, excited to earn a little money. His mom asked him what time he was supposed to go over.

“My mind went blank. I could not remember when she told me to come,” Petersen said. “My mom gave me a concerned look and said, ‘I think you should go right now.’”

Divine intervention

Petersen left for the quarter-mile walk to the Conways’ east Mesa home near Recker and Brown roads. What happened next he can’t explain, but something in his head told him to run. He questioned it — what was the rush? But he couldn’t silence the voice.

“I felt it really strongly again, like I was being scolded by my father, so I started running and felt it again. It said, ‘You need to run faster, as fast as you can,’” Petersen recalled.

He sprinted through the neighborhood, into the Conways’ cul-de-sac and up the driveway to the house. That’s when he heard screaming. The front door swung open, and one of the Conways’ sons came tearing out of the house to run for help.

“He ran into me and fell, and I could hear the screams coming from the house more loudly,” he said.

As Petersen ran into the house, Shelley was coming in from the backyard. She and her 18-month-old baby, Colter, were soaking wet. Colter was gray. He had been underwater for what firefighters later estimated to be four minutes.

“I thought he was dead,” Petersen recalled. “Shelley grabbed the phone, but she was in such a panic that she couldn’t hit the right numbers to call 911. She threw it to me and was kneeling down by Colter screaming in agony, ‘Colter, breathe! Colter, breathe!’”

Petersen dialed 911, handed the phone back to Shelley and “my brain immediately went to my training from a month earlier.”

He felt for a pulse. Nothing. He felt again. There it was, faint, but there. He lifted Colter’s chin up, pinched his nose and started mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After about six breaths, Colter started to gurgle.

“I turned him on his side, and all of the water that was in his stomach came out. I couldn’t believe how much water could come out of an 18-month-old,” he recalled.

By the time paramedics arrived a few minutes later, Colter was getting his fight back.

“He was awake enough to where he was crying and upset and trying to get back to his mom,” Petersen said.

Shelley later told Petersen that the family’s lawn didn’t even need to be mowed that badly, but something told her that she needed to call him. Still, he refuses to take credit for the outcome.

“That was kind of inspired, because from the time she called me to the time I was there, it was probably seven minutes,” Petersen said. “I’m convinced there was some divine intervention.”

Lasting lessons

Petersen hasn’t had to use CPR since then, but the incident guides his actions to this day. The father of six is always “counting heads” when his family is around water and always makes sure an adult is actively supervising the kids.

“The things that we do repetitively day after day that seem monotonous for years and years, one day can pay off,” he said. “That one time you need that seatbelt, your whole entire life could be changed without it.”

Colter is now married with a baby and working on his master’s degree in accounting at Brigham Young University. Shelley has since passed away, but Petersen stays in contact with Colter’s dad, Mike.

Mike’s hope is for everyone to become CPR certified and to listen to their inner voice.

“One more minute and Colter would have died or been brain dead,” he added. “Act upon the thoughts that say you should do something. What a wonderful thing that Jacob did that. It changed the course of life for us.”

Jacob Petersen said the near drowning 26 years ago has made him take safety seriously not just around water but also at work: “We do tailboards before every job we do. We go over all the hazards and what we need to do to mitigate the hazards. It’s better to know how to prevent an injury or tragedy from happening than to deal with it afterward.” Photo by Mike Eller

Colter (far left) poses with his brothers a week after the accident.

Today Colter is married with a baby of his own.

The Drowning Prevention Coalition of Arizona is supporting Salt River Project's mouth-to-mouth CPR awareness campaign working with valley Fire Departments and cities to offer training and awareness classes. Find a location near you to find a class today.