When Magic Happens

Even as a boy growing up in Oakland, Leo Luna had a passion for the stage. In 1951 when he was nine, his mother took him to see nationally-known magician Harry Blackstone, Sr. at the Paramount Theater. Luna sat transfixed among the crowd, amazed at the power the performer had over the audience.

At Castlemont High School, Luna auditioned for the school play and was thrilled to get a part--even though the role had only one line. Still, he practiced repeatedly for the performance. Then, on opening night, with hundreds of eyes upon him, Luna accidentally changed the tone and delivery of his line as he became consumed in his role.

“For a second, I thought I did something wrong,” he said.

The audience’s response was astounding. The crowd broke into applause and laughter. After the show, his teacher congratulated him on his performance.

“In that instant I knew I belonged on the stage,” he said.

Throughout high school and after graduating, Luna prepared for a career in acting. He took dance lessons and landed roles in community plays.

“Then I got a draft notice,” he said.

After four years in the army, including three in Germany, Luna came home to Oakland with greater responsibilities. Now married, with a small daughter and another baby on the way, Luna saw his dreams of acting diminish. Yet the stage quietly called to him, and one day in 1972 he read a quotation that changed his life: “A magician is an actor pretending to be a magician.”

Although he later learned the phrase was a common misquotation of magician Jean Eugene Robert-Houdin, Luna will never forget the effect it had on him. The words ignited his interest in magic and he saw an outlet to perform after hours and evenings. He immediately dove into magic, working to perfect his craft.

Having performed in a variety of venues, Luna fondly recalls a moment in the mid-1970s when he was asked to appear at a school for hearing impaired youth. Although he was told an interpreter would be by his side as performed his usual show, he was concerned that the full effect of his magic might be lost on his audience.

Luna’s concerns eased as the youngsters responded enthusiastically to each illusion. Afterward, a teacher approached him and said that a student was asking to come forward and shake his hand. Luna agreed, and watched as a nine-year-old girl was wheeled up to him. As he took her hand, she pulled him close and, as all the students watched, gave him a hug. Suddenly all the childen came forward to greet and hug the wonderful magician.

"I’d never experienced anything like this,” said Luna, his lips quivering. “It really made me realize this was what I was supposed to be doing. It was like a stamp of approval.”

Luna, who moved his family to Pleasanton in 1976, retired a few years ago from his full-time job driving school busses. But he’s never retired from magic and has never lost the passion. These days he can be found performing at corporate events, birthday parties, daycare centers, and other gatherings.

“The audience makes it exciting and keeps it fresh,” Luna said. “As a magician I get to take them out of their everyday problems, even if it’s only for an hour. Magic really is magic.”

To experience Leo Luna’s magic, contact him at 925-846-3888 or by email at rabbitsgon@comcast.net.

EMTs breathe life into their work

This column was published on September 30, 2008 in the Tri-Valley Herald

Keith Humphrey stumbled out of bed and pulled on his boots at 2:40 in the morning on a recent Saturday. His partner did the same.

“Dom is naturally a big guy, tough as titanium,” said 20-year-old Humphrey, who spoke over a cup of coffee about his experiences as an Emergency Medical Technician, or EMT. “But Dom’s a gentle giant who will always go beyond what’s asked to make a patient feel a little better.”

Humphrey, who has short blond hair and blue eyes, has been an EMT in Alameda County for two years.

What awoke Humphrey at the emergency services station where he and his partner were asleep was the radio’s sudden bark about a woman having trouble breathing at a nursing home. As Dom fired up the ambulance and drove, Humphrey did paperwork, recording the who, what, and why of the call.

“Most people feel a sudden jolt of adrenaline when faced with an emergency,” Humphrey said, “but over time on this job I’ve lost that kick. To help me wake up, I drank a Monster energy drink.”

Soon the ambulance pulled up to the nursing home. After unloading a gurney and a bag of medical equipment, Humphrey and Dom entered the lobby.

“My mind quickly ran through how to handle this call,” Humphrey said. “Few things in life are as scary as being unable to breathe.”

According to Humphrey, patients who can’t breathe often panic, which quickly uses up available air in their lungs. This can lead to respiratory failure, which can then lead to heart failure.

“It’s a snowball effect that can happen as quickly as five minutes and usually once it begins, it’s hard to stop,” he said.

Encountering a questioning nurse, the EMTs stated the patient’s name and were nodded through, the nurse holding open the door.

“In the movies, emergency medical service workers sprint to the victim,” Humphrey said, “but in real life this doesn’t happen.” Running down a hallway with heavy equipment doesn’t bring the needed calm to the chaos of an emergency, he said. In fact, arriving at the room, Humphrey found a scene far from calm.

“As soon as we walked in, I knew this was going to be a rough one,” he said. They found an 85-year-old woman gasping for breath and almost unconscious. Severe dementia kept her from answering questions and knowing where she was. Humphrey placed an oxygen mask on her face and checked her vital signs.

“The woman’s low blood pressure and high heart rate screamed heart failure to me,” he said. “Her heart was trying to get oxygen-enriched blood to her body. She was minutes away from full cardiac arrest.”

Humphrey recalls looking into the eyes of this tiny woman who probably only weighed one hundred pounds. “I saw a lost and frightened soul,” he said.

Then, as she was loaded into the ambulance, Humphrey made a critical discovery as he listened to her lungs with his stethoscope. “I heard what sounded like a washing machine in her chest. This lady’s lungs were full of water,” he said. In other words, she was drowning internally.

After a full lights and siren race to the emergency room, the partners wheeled their patient through the automatic doors. “I looked around for someone to talk to, but everyone was busy at their computer screens,” Humphrey said.

In a few moments—which seemed much longer to Humphrey—a nurse said she would be with them in a few minutes.

“I boiled inside,” Humphrey said as he quickly told the nurse, “No, you don’t get it. She has fluid in her lungs and respiratory failure.” This got the nurse’s attention. As doctors converged on the patient, the two EMTs quietly slipped out.

Later the same evening, a routine call brought Humphrey and Dom to the same emergency room. The fragile woman was sleeping peacefully in the bed where they'd left her.

“The nurse noticed me looking at her,” said Humphrey, “and asked if I'd brought her in.” Not looking away from the sleeping woman, Humphrey nodded. The nurse told him the woman was lucky the nursing home called when it did. Another half hour and she wouldn’t have made it. “You get the save for that one,” she told Humphrey.

“I smiled because that was both true and false,” he said, staring into his now tepid coffee. “I didn’t push the drugs that flushed her lungs clear. I didn’t take the chest x-ray. I didn’t start the IV line. All I did was recognize her emergency and get her to the hospital as fast as we could.”

Humphrey said EMTs are just one link in a chain that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t when it comes to saving lives. As far back as he can remember he admired emergency service professionals. In one of his favorite photos as a little boy he wears a helmet and a firefighter jacket his grandmother made for him.

“Although most days are routine, I love getting up in the morning to go to work,” he said. “It’s an honor being there when people need us most.”

Unemployed, but hopeful

She’s a 41-year-old single mother with 7-year-old twin boys, and she’s been unemployed for nearly four months.

While she fondly remembers growing up in a safe and stable neighborhood in the Oakland Hills near Knowland Park, today she lives in the Tri-Valley.

“I chose to move here four years ago because I found a nice town home under $1,000 a month to rent,” she said, asking that her name not be published. “I like it here because it’s safe and the schools are better.”

Though she earns some money working a few hours a week for her uncle, a tax accountant, she’s hasn’t found a full-time job after nearly four months of looking, even with the help of a local employment agency. Her last job was with the Contra Costa County Department of Employment and Human Services.

“I’ve never gone this long without finding a job,” she said.

To make matters worse, she’s having trouble sorting out whether she can draw unemployment.

“The state agency that pays unemployment wants state disability to pay and they want unemployment to pay,” she said. “Meanwhile, I had to apply for an appeal and go on aid just so we can make rent.”

In addition to job hunting, she makes productive use of her time by taking classes to improve her education and work skills.

Sadly, some people in her community don’t seem to respect her right to live where she chooses.

“I’m embarrassed when people find out we’re struggling to make ends meet,” she said. “Living in an upper class town has it pros and cons.” The pros are obvious, such as good schools, safer neighborhoods, clean streets, and parks. But the downside is what she calls “quiet racism and being stereotyped, which I hate with a passion,” she said, referring to the fact that she is African-American. Both happen most often at her boys’ school.

“Some parents who know I’m on welfare stare at me with malice that loudly says ‘we do not want your kind here.’”

Surprisingly, she even finds some resistance where she worships on Sundays.

“While many people in my church are supportive and friendly, I receive the same judgmental stares from some because they know I’m divorced,” she said. “I just struggle with the few who are doing this to my children and me.”

She says if people would just engage her in a friendly conversation, they would discover she’s a good person.

“I still smile and wish them a good day because in some ways I can’t worry about their opinions,” she said. “I especially want church to be a safe place for my boys, where they are judged only by their character.”

Speaking of her boys, one of her greatest challenges is shopping with her twins. On a recent excursion for basic supplies, she had to contend with her sons’ relentless requests for an item that caught their attention: a T-shirt that comes with a toy.

“My boys begged me with their big puppy dog eyes for the shirt, but I just couldn’t afford it,” she said. “I hate having to break their little hearts, especially since they’ve been so good at conserving things such as food, toothpaste and soap. I hate moments like these.”

She says the most difficult part of being unemployed is when she’s around family and friends who have jobs and don’t realize how fortunate they are. “They complain about their pay and how they’re one paycheck from the street,” she said. “But their bills are paid and they have food and new clothing.”

Yet in spite of the adversity, this woman, who speaks confidently with hope and a ready smile, has words of encouragement for her young boys, and perhaps for herself: “I tell them I know it’s difficult being poor, but when mommy lands another job and pays a few bills current, I promise them we’ll have a special shopping day to make up for what we missed.”