It’s hard to keep up with Jeb De La Cruz, known to his family as Jeb Jeb. The 2 ½-year-old dashes through the front room of his family’s North Vancouver home, crashing into the couch, climbing, giggling, singing.
“It’s like no accident happened to us,” said his dad, 44-year-old Val De La Cruz. “Jeb Jeb is like a normal kid right now.”
On April 26, 2025, De La Cruz and his son were among the dozens of people injured when an Audi SUV rammed into the crowd at Vancouver’s Lapu-Lapu Day festival. Eleven people were killed.
Jeb almost died at the site, but an off-duty nurse kept him alive with CPR.
“God gave us a second life, for sure,” said De La Cruz.
It’s a life that’s far from easy, though. The family’s joy at the toddler’s recovery exists alongside exhaustion and pain, as Val struggles with debilitating injuries from the incident that keep him from work — and all of them, including little Jeb, confront the fear that lingers everyday.
Both Val De La Cruz and his wife Jeanilyn Espinosa, 34, are originally from the Philippines.
De La Cruz worked as a driver for a linen company. On the day of the Lapu-Lapu Day festival, his last stop was near the event grounds in East Vancouver, so he suggested Espinosa, Jeb and their six-month-old daughter Vaileyn meet him there.
As the last concert ended around 8 p.m., De La Cruz carried Jeb toward the food trucks, to order lemonade. Then, he says, everything went white.
“I hear my wife saying, ‘You have to wake up, wake up, you have to open your eyes,'” De La Cruz said.
He says he was struck by the Audi SUV that sped through the crowd, hitting groups of families, couples and friends.
Espinosa remembers seeing her son Jeb on the ground, turning blue and her husband lying beside him, unconscious.
“I’m in pain, I’m in panic,” she recalled. “I shout, I scream for help.”
Julius Onia, an off-duty nurse, was carrying his own four-year-old son through the crowd, looking for members of his extended family, when he saw Jeb.
“I checked the kid laying on the ground, not breathing, dusky-coloured, blue lips, no pulse.”
Onia started CPR. After a couple of minutes of compressions, Jeb’s colour returned and he let out a faint cry. But then he stopped breathing again.
“He stopped breathing three times,” Onia said.
Finally, paramedics arrived and put De La Cruz and Jeb in separate ambulances, each going to different hospitals.
Onia was left behind, unsure if the child he had helped would survive.
“I remember looking at the stretcher going away, I was like, ‘I really hope you make it,'” he said. “It lingered in my head — what if he doesn’t make it?”
At B.C. Children’s Hospital in Vancouver, doctors put Jeb into an induced coma. He had a skull fracture, broken ribs, a broken clavicle, a lacerated spleen and damage to multiple organs.
Espinosa kept vigil while De La Cruz recovered at Lions Gate Hospital in North Vancouver. When he saw a photo of his son in hospital, De La Cruz says he begged his doctors to allow him to visit his son — but injuries to his shoulder, head and lower back meant he couldn’t leave.
He remembers blaming himself for his son’s injuries.
“When I am in the hospital, I am really thinking that it’s my fault,” he said. “I didn’t protect him.”
Jeb remained in a coma for two weeks. When he woke up, Espinosa said he wanted to move, but she had to keep him still. He celebrated his second birthday in hospital and, slowly, his condition improved.
“It’s just little by little,” said Espinosa.
Two months after the Lapu-Lapu Day tragedy, Jeb returned home.
It was tough initially, his parents say, but now, he’s thriving. His hospital checkups have recently been reduced to just once every three months.
Doctors told the family to make sure he doesn’t bump his head, as he could have a seizure, but to watch him play, you would have no idea how severe his injuries were.
Recovery is harder for De La Cruz. His shoulder injury creates debilitating pain. He says he struggles to carry his children, he can’t drive and he can’t work.
“It’s really tough right now,” he said.
He has insurance though the Insurance Corporation of British Columbia (ICBC), and donations from a community fundraiser have helped, but money is tight and he worries about being able to provide for his family. He says he is on a list to see a surgeon for his shoulder, but the process to get the procedure could take a year or longer.
Espinosa says it’s difficult to see her husband in pain. She’s physically OK, but she still struggles with flashbacks at night, and worries about Jeb getting hurt again.
She says the warning from doctors to keep him from bumping his head is tough because he’s such an active boy. The family avoids crowded spaces, but they are trying to get out more.
“We need to face our fears,” said Espinosa.
Onia still has fears related to the incident too. He says crossing streets is stressful. But he says receiving updates from Jeb’s family and following the boy’s progress has made recovering from the trauma easier.
Last October, he and his wife reunited with the family at Jeb’s sister Vaileyn’s first birthday party.
“I was looking at the kid, this is the same kid I did CPR on, and he is walking, he is talking, he is smiling,” Onia said. “I felt so good.”
Espinosa calls Onia an “angel” sent to help them on that horrible day. They plan to stay in touch, bonded by what they went through, the challenges they still face and their hopes for Jeb.
“There’s a second chance for my son,” said Espinosa.
