JUST WEEKS BEFORE SUMMER BREAK, the football field outside Saint Mary’s High School hummed with the metronomic thump of CPR dummies as at least a dozen hands practiced chest compressions at once.
Most at this recent Saturday training were students and staff from the north Stockton school, all taking part in hands-on CPR training demonstrated, in part, by one of their peers, 16-year-old Heather Freligh.
Nearly three years ago, this type of training helped save Freligh’s own life. When she was in eighth grade, Freligh experienced a sudden cardiac arrest while taking a math test at Art Freiler Elementary in Tracy. She had to be revived with an automated external defibrillator, or an AED, and spent 28 hours in a medically-induced coma, as well as two weeks in intensive care.
Today, she wears an implantable cardioverter defibrillator, or ICD, a device placed under the skin near her heart that can deliver an electric shock if she ever goes through the life-threatening event again. Even now, what caused the episode is still “up in the air,” she said.
According to the American Heart Association (AHA), roughly 23,000 children experience a cardiac arrest each year.
“Cardiac arrest is a leading cause of death in the world,” AHA Sacramento board member Dr. Reetu Sharma said in a January 2025 report from the group. “Yet only about 41% of people who experience it receive CPR from bystanders nearby before emergency responders arrive.”
Those statistics, and her own near-death experience, led Freligh to where she is now: working toward becoming a trainer and bringing CPR and AED education into schools that she hopes one day will create a “ripple effect.”
“Out of the hundreds and thousands of people we’re gonna meet doing all this advocacy, we just hope we can save one life,” said Freligh, who became an advocate for this type of education as soon as she recovered in early 2024.
A lifeline
When Freligh collapsed during that math test in September 2023, her classmate Joseph Russell II, 16, said he had thought Freligh was messing around. He soon realized that she wasn’t.
Moving chairs out of the way and calling on his teacher, Russell helped his friend as much as he could as other classmates dialed 911. Minutes later, their principal Stephen Theall would perform CPR with dispatchers on the line.
It was the AED brought by local firefighters that eventually revived Freligh. Under California law, AEDs are required at schools with competitive sports teams, Freligh said, leaving most elementary and middle schools out.
About a month after her collapse, Freligh returned to school.
Emotions from that day still “bubble up” for Theall. But in the initial moment, his training allowed him to push them to the background, he said.
But “is there emotional fallout beyond that?” Theall said. “Absolutely.”
For Russell, trainings like the one hosted by Freligh are a means to prepare — while also supporting his friend, whom he’s known since sixth grade.
“I want to always be ready and make sure other people are ready,” he said.
Off to the side of the field, Heather Baker moved among a group of students practicing CPR on mannequins. One of a handful of certified trainers at the event, Baker, a school principal from Illinois, had traveled to help Freligh train hundreds of attendees that day.
But it’s also their shared experience that brought Baker to Stockton. In 2018, Baker suffered a sudden cardiac arrest at just 28 years of age. At the time, Baker said she had felt “normal” — healthy, fit and nothing had been previously flagged by her doctor.
It wasn’t until Baker had walked into her last meeting of the day at her school when she felt nauseous. She collapsed before she could take one step to run to the bathroom, Baker said.
Like in Freligh’s case, it was because of those who acted quickly — who performed CPR and used an AED — that Baker is here today.
“Going through sudden cardiac arrest — and surviving — brings a lot of emotions,” Baker said. “It is very traumatic to wake up and find that you had been dead on the floor and people brought you back to life, … so there’s healing that comes from that.”
Baker said she returned to work two weeks later, but neither she nor her coworkers received any mental health support or accommodations.
“It is very traumatic to wake up and find that you had been dead on the floor and people brought you back to life … so there’s healing that comes from that.”
Heather Baker, cardiac arrest survivor
The emotional toll of performing or witnessing a cardiac arrest has started to factor into trainings, Baker said at the training, eight years after her collapse.
“We really focus on empowering people, wanting them to walk away feeling not scared, but prepared,” she said. “Feeling confident that they could do this.”
Making it memorable and fun
As she demonstrates CPR, Freligh takes the same approach, reminding attendees of pop songs like Pink Pony Club or the catchy, repetitive children’s tune Baby Shark to help them keep up steady chest compressions.
“Nobody’s gonna want to do anything that looks scary,” Freligh said. “So, it’s like, let’s make this fun.”
Karen Farah, 17, kneeled across Freligh at one point during the Saturday training. Pumping into the play dummy, she joked that it had felt like she was “gonna break a rib.”
“That’s the whole point — you want to break the rib,” Freligh replied, adding, almost deadpan,“it’s like, break a rib or you’re dead.”
Before getting the hands-on CPR practice, Farah said she had gotten her certification online, as her job required it. While able to throw out facts about chest compressions — such as confirming with Freligh that 30 pumps is the AHA recommendation of using chest compressions — Farah said being trained to administer CPR could help save lives.
“There’s probably a lot more lives that have been lost (because) of people not knowing CPR,” said the Tracy high school student, who had heard about the event from Freligh. “I feel like someone as young as me, knowing CPR, actually could save a life or two.”
Baker, like Farah, was impressed by Freligh, seeing her moving through the field to guide trainees through the majority of the morning trainings. While “being alive and happy” is enough, advocacy for Freligh, Baker said, is a way of sharing her story.
“She could have chosen to just go back to being a teenager, flying under the radar, getting through school,” Baker said. “But she has chosen to share this very private story with the world, and she’s gonna save lives.”
This story originally appeared in Stocktonia.
