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| My Turn Holding The 911 Line |
| It's a new night. I work what they call the graveyard shift. I walk up the ramp into our communications room. Most nights I am OK, others I feel my stomach tighten a bit as I approach the final locked door. It's starting all over again, and I'm a little anxious. I get my supplies I use from my locker - my headset, my favorite pen, my cheat sheet, a drink and a candle that I always burn throughout the night. I am in the Fairfield County Sheriff's office Communications room - a vitally important place, one filled with tremendous responsibility, sadness, frustration and few rewards. I am surrounded by a computer terterminal, multiline phones, and I face a console full of buttons. I take a deep breath once the shift personnal before me vacate the room and I am left with just one partner. I always say a little prayer to myself and hope that I don't make any mistakes that might get me on the 6 o'clock news. This will be my not-so-happy home for the next 8 hours. "911, what is your emergency?'' It's my first call of the night. The woman is crying but calm. She has tried to wake her elderly husband. I ask if he is breathing, she says "No, he's cold and blue .... I am sure he is dead." With the push of buttons I alert the EMS after hanging up the phone. I leave the sobbing widow and feel sad, but I must move on. I have more incoming calls to take and radio traffic that needs my attention. There is not much time for sentiment in the job. There is always more calls to take, more officers to answer, more radio traffic to handle, more decisions to make and more pessures needing attention. This is not a fun place. But I glance at my co-worker and am proud to be part of this team. We are dedicated men and women who are doing our best to serve the public, in spite of the adversities. Some co-workers have been around for a while, some only a few months. Some are burnt out, tired of just waiting for something better to come along. Most of us are trying to keep a sense of purpose and, oddly, a sense of humor in what we do. We have to, because the things we hear are often frightening or even grusesome. We must sound unaffected and keep our callers calm. "911, what is your emergency?" It's just a boy on a pay phone getting his kicks by calling me vulgar names. He hangs up before I have a chance to educate him on correct 911 usage. We get a lot of trivial calls, pranksters, hang-ups, citizens complaining to us about a noncrime situation, something they should handle themselves. People call us because they don't know where to turn. Everyone must be treated fairly and with respect. It's a difficult balance to maintain. I then answer another call, its's an irate man calling from his cellular car phone. He says he's in a hurry to get to work and there's a major traffic jam blocking his way. "Get some damned officers out here to direct traffic; I pay my taxes and I expect you people to do your jobs! Listen lady, I am gonna be late for an important meeting!" I bite my lip to keep from saying what I really feel and from what I really want to. "Yes, sir," I say, "there was a serious accident in that area and officers are on the scene. Please be patient, we're doing the best we can." |
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