Your mind is racing again. It's smack in the middle of the night and you remember that you needed to get that packaged Fed Ex yesterday. You start to wonder how the hell you're going to meet your deadline. There's nothing you can do about it now. It's 3am. You have four hours until you have to get up to prepare the kids for school, but sleep has eluded you. When you were a child your mom would give you a cup of warm milk and that seemed to do the trick. Hopefully, it still works.
You crawl out of bed and make the long walk past the kid’s bedroom, avoid stepping on the dog and walk down the steps. The kitchen seems so far. You remember the day you bought the house. The selling point was the distance from the bedroom to the kitchen. It was just far enough where your spouses early morning coffee routine wouldn't bother you. The neighborhood was also important. You came a long way from the place you used to live in. You worked very hard to give your children the peace and tranquility that you did not grow up with. You have done well in your life.
The long walk to the kitchen brings you past the hallway where your mail sits un-opened. Bills. The first one is that dreaded property tax bill. It seems that while everything has been crashing to a halt, those taxes keep going up and up. Everyone is always asking for money. You struggled to get where you are and it's not fair that people who did not study as hard as you or made the sacrifices you did to put themselves through school should make equal to or more money than you. Civil employees are a joke. Everyone knows that they are just rejects who couldn't make it and had no other choice. Definitely not your fault. You worked hard to be where you are. They are just a bunch of lazy people who got a hand out. They don’t know the meaning of sacrifice.
You get to the fridge and pour yourself a glass of milk. It's 3am and you don't feel like dirtying dishes, so you opt for the microwave instead. You rub your shoulders dreading the day that lies ahead when you hear a noise just outside your French doors. Relief calms your mind. You invested in that alarm protection that they advertise on TV. You know the one where the burglar manages to break in the door and then the alarm sounds and the burglar runs off. A second later someone calls and ask if they are alright. Peace of mind is worth the money. If the burglar were to manage to make it through that expensive lock you placed on the door after extensive research, the alarm will scare the burglar off. Back to the milk.
You hear the dog racing down the steps and walk over to the pantry to get a treat. But, when your pooch finally gets to where you are, you notice he is staring outside those French doors your mom helped you pick out so you would have a panoramic view of the pool and yard. Then you see it. There’s a shadow lurking in your backyard. It looks like a man. The dog starts to growl. Your heart sinks and your first instinct is to get to the kids and call 911. Forget the alarm.
You crawl out of bed and make the long walk past the kid’s bedroom, avoid stepping on the dog and walk down the steps. The kitchen seems so far. You remember the day you bought the house. The selling point was the distance from the bedroom to the kitchen. It was just far enough where your spouses early morning coffee routine wouldn't bother you. The neighborhood was also important. You came a long way from the place you used to live in. You worked very hard to give your children the peace and tranquility that you did not grow up with. You have done well in your life.
The long walk to the kitchen brings you past the hallway where your mail sits un-opened. Bills. The first one is that dreaded property tax bill. It seems that while everything has been crashing to a halt, those taxes keep going up and up. Everyone is always asking for money. You struggled to get where you are and it's not fair that people who did not study as hard as you or made the sacrifices you did to put themselves through school should make equal to or more money than you. Civil employees are a joke. Everyone knows that they are just rejects who couldn't make it and had no other choice. Definitely not your fault. You worked hard to be where you are. They are just a bunch of lazy people who got a hand out. They don’t know the meaning of sacrifice.
You get to the fridge and pour yourself a glass of milk. It's 3am and you don't feel like dirtying dishes, so you opt for the microwave instead. You rub your shoulders dreading the day that lies ahead when you hear a noise just outside your French doors. Relief calms your mind. You invested in that alarm protection that they advertise on TV. You know the one where the burglar manages to break in the door and then the alarm sounds and the burglar runs off. A second later someone calls and ask if they are alright. Peace of mind is worth the money. If the burglar were to manage to make it through that expensive lock you placed on the door after extensive research, the alarm will scare the burglar off. Back to the milk.
You hear the dog racing down the steps and walk over to the pantry to get a treat. But, when your pooch finally gets to where you are, you notice he is staring outside those French doors your mom helped you pick out so you would have a panoramic view of the pool and yard. Then you see it. There’s a shadow lurking in your backyard. It looks like a man. The dog starts to growl. Your heart sinks and your first instinct is to get to the kids and call 911. Forget the alarm.
You run upstairs, calling the dog behind you. You start to think that maybe that Second Amendment wasn’t such a joke. You should have bought a gun after all. You'll be damned if anyone tried to hurt your kids. You enter the first kid bedroom when you hear the French door handle jiggle. Why hasn't the alarm gone off?? The dog's growl is now getting louder. No one is calling.
You manage to get the second child out of their bedroom and hear a voice on the other end of the phone by the time you hear the glass break. No alarm. This is not the way it was supposed to go. The voice on the other end asks you the address of the emergency. You have lived here for over ten years and for the life of you, you can't remember where you live. You inform the operator that someone is breaking into your house. You need the police now. The voice on the other end calmly asks you again, what's your address? You've watched enough movies and enough television to know that they already know where you are. With a pompous and frightened voice you advise the operator she already knows where you are at, just send the police.
The over paid civil employee informs you that they don't know where you are, you are calling from a cell phone and that they need your address. You thought you grabbed the house phone. You give her an address. It sounds about right. Then your heart stops. You can hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. You are scared for your life, for the life of your children. Why you?
The lifeline informs you to lock your bedroom door. She asks you for directions to your bedroom. You tell her it's the fourth door to the left side of the staircase. She asks if you have a closet or a bathroom in your bedroom with a lock. You think of the bathroom. She tells you to lock yourself in the bathroom with the kids and to keep your voice down. She tells you that police are on the way.
You manage to get the second child out of their bedroom and hear a voice on the other end of the phone by the time you hear the glass break. No alarm. This is not the way it was supposed to go. The voice on the other end asks you the address of the emergency. You have lived here for over ten years and for the life of you, you can't remember where you live. You inform the operator that someone is breaking into your house. You need the police now. The voice on the other end calmly asks you again, what's your address? You've watched enough movies and enough television to know that they already know where you are. With a pompous and frightened voice you advise the operator she already knows where you are at, just send the police.
The over paid civil employee informs you that they don't know where you are, you are calling from a cell phone and that they need your address. You thought you grabbed the house phone. You give her an address. It sounds about right. Then your heart stops. You can hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. You are scared for your life, for the life of your children. Why you?
The lifeline informs you to lock your bedroom door. She asks you for directions to your bedroom. You tell her it's the fourth door to the left side of the staircase. She asks if you have a closet or a bathroom in your bedroom with a lock. You think of the bathroom. She tells you to lock yourself in the bathroom with the kids and to keep your voice down. She tells you that police are on the way.
You can hear this burglar rummaging through the bedrooms. Who is this person and what is he looking for? You hear the footsteps getting closer. You inform the operator and she reassures you that help is on the way. She's calming. She sounds certain that you are going to make it through this without injury. You will survive. Help is on the way. You try to fight the tears and remain calm for the frightened children that are staring into your eyes. Silently you pray.
Just as you close your eyes to ask Jesus for salvation, the room door burst open and all that separates you from this madman and your children is a bathroom door. Thank God she told you to lock yourself in there. Your kids start to cry hysterically. The voice on the other end tells you that the officers have finally arrived. They are making their way inside. You hear them now. They are shouting commands. They have the lunatic that broke into your home. The voice tells you that the subject is in custody and that you can step out for the officer. You are safe.
Just as you close your eyes to ask Jesus for salvation, the room door burst open and all that separates you from this madman and your children is a bathroom door. Thank God she told you to lock yourself in there. Your kids start to cry hysterically. The voice on the other end tells you that the officers have finally arrived. They are making their way inside. You hear them now. They are shouting commands. They have the lunatic that broke into your home. The voice tells you that the subject is in custody and that you can step out for the officer. You are safe.
Here's the same story from the other end. A story that is not to0 often shared.
A 911 operator finishes a call where she gave CPR instructions to a 12 year old boy whose mom wasn't breathing. She just spoke to the Staff Sergeant who informed her that the mom didn't make it. The story tugs at her heart as she remembers how scared he was. She couldn’t help but to think of her own son. He was screaming that his mom was going to die. This wasn’t going to happen on her watch. She reassured him. He needs to be strong. She needs him to help his mommy. She needed him to be brave and follow her instructions. He could do this.
She let him down. His mom did not make it. When the officers arrived, his mom was already gone. They tried CPR, but it was too late. For every good call, there's ten bad ones. This was supposed to be her day off. She switched days off with a fellow co-worker because he couldn’t take the day off to be with his wife for surgery. The shift was short again. He would have worked his life around for her. It’s something you get used to around here. Due to staff shortage, it’s not rare to exchange a day off with someone. It’s all about being there for your family. Everyone understood.
She is not able to take a break yet and decided to take one more call before running to the bathroom to cry her eyes out. Some calls stay with you. They never go away. But, maybe she’ll be lucky this time and this boys screams won’t haunt her dreams. The next call will make her forget. It will go away. It had to.
Her next call is a screaming woman. The woman doesn't know her address. She's handled this before. She calms the caller down and mutes the phone as she asks her supervisor to try to trace the call. Someone is breaking into this citizen’s house. At the same time, she creates the call to start officers to the general area where the cell phone grid. She starts adding comments to the call. She forgets about the 12 year old boy who is without a mother. This woman needs her now.
The police dispatcher has been busy all night. It seems that when there's a full moon, all the crazy people want to come out and play. The day started with someone trying to kill themselves, leading the police in an extensive foot pursuit, which resulted in minor lacerations to an officer who struggled to get the knife away from the subject just in time. She hasn’t stopped talking and she is in dire need of a bathroom break. She shouldn’t have had the large coffee. But, caffeine is what keeps her moving. She really has to go, but there is no one to relieve her. She feels the stress start to build up. Air traffic is busy.
Her next call is a screaming woman. The woman doesn't know her address. She's handled this before. She calms the caller down and mutes the phone as she asks her supervisor to try to trace the call. Someone is breaking into this citizen’s house. At the same time, she creates the call to start officers to the general area where the cell phone grid. She starts adding comments to the call. She forgets about the 12 year old boy who is without a mother. This woman needs her now.
The police dispatcher has been busy all night. It seems that when there's a full moon, all the crazy people want to come out and play. The day started with someone trying to kill themselves, leading the police in an extensive foot pursuit, which resulted in minor lacerations to an officer who struggled to get the knife away from the subject just in time. She hasn’t stopped talking and she is in dire need of a bathroom break. She shouldn’t have had the large coffee. But, caffeine is what keeps her moving. She really has to go, but there is no one to relieve her. She feels the stress start to build up. Air traffic is busy.
From deadly vehicle crashes, to mothers fighting with daughters, boyfriends slapping their girlfriends, loud barking dogs and robberies; She’s ready for some quiet time. Finally it slows down a little and she finally managed to dispatch an officer to the vehicle accident that has been holding for two hours. It's been raining. She feels bad, but due to recent cut backs, there aren’t enough units to go around. If only the public knew.
Just as she thinks she'll finally be able to take a breath and maybe take a sip of water, she gets a call about an unknown person attempting to break into a residence. She asks for an officer to clear from a call. They are all tied up on some priority call. There are no units available.
The officer who was on his way to the vehicle accident that was holding for two hours, informs her that he hasn't arrived yet. He'll take the call and then respond back to the crash. She feels bad. The call will hold, yet again, but there aren't any lives in danger...just property damages. They can wait a little longer. She hopes that they understand and don’t call back requesting an ETA. We have the call and an officer will respond.
She requests a unit to back up that officer. The sergeant who is tending to the injured officer says he will go and then come back to the officer. There is no one else available. Just then the call heats up. The subject has made it inside the house. The complainant on the call is now locking herself in the bathroom. Her heart starts to race and she starts a game plan in her head, just in case this goes bad. After the many difficult calls she has handled, she knows that every second counts. Everyone is going home tonight.
The responding officer hears the information over the radio. He is tired. He's worked double shifts the last two days. He's can't remember the last time he tucked his kids into bed or cuddled up next to his wife at night. His weekends are Tuesday and Wednesday. He is sleep deprived and hungry. He turns his lights and sirens on and drives a little over the speed limit in the rain, just as he was taught in the academy. He wants this scumbag in handcuffs and in the backseat of his police car. That could've been his house, his family in danger.
He arrives at the house and waits for back up. After all, he doesn't know if this subject is armed and he really wants to make it to his son's baseball game later on that afternoon. He takes a peak into the back yard. He sees the broken glass and advises the dispatcher. He request additional units, just in case the subject runs out, and begins to call out perimeter points around the house. There’s no way in hell this guy is getting away. He is going to jail tonight.
The responding officer hears the information over the radio. He is tired. He's worked double shifts the last two days. He's can't remember the last time he tucked his kids into bed or cuddled up next to his wife at night. His weekends are Tuesday and Wednesday. He is sleep deprived and hungry. He turns his lights and sirens on and drives a little over the speed limit in the rain, just as he was taught in the academy. He wants this scumbag in handcuffs and in the backseat of his police car. That could've been his house, his family in danger.
He arrives at the house and waits for back up. After all, he doesn't know if this subject is armed and he really wants to make it to his son's baseball game later on that afternoon. He takes a peak into the back yard. He sees the broken glass and advises the dispatcher. He request additional units, just in case the subject runs out, and begins to call out perimeter points around the house. There’s no way in hell this guy is getting away. He is going to jail tonight.
A couple of other officers arrive on the scene and he advises the dispatcher to hold the radio traffic, he's going in. He draws out his gun. He has his back up right behind him. He’s the first going in. His heart starts to beat a little faster. Everything inside him is screaming for help, telling him to turn around but, he is help. If he doesn't go in there, who else will? He closes his eyes for a brief second and makes a quick prayer. Lord, let me make it through one more. He walks in.
It isn't difficult to see where the burglar went. He follows the mud prints through the kitchen, past the hallway and to the staircase. Thank God for the rain. Just as he makes his way up the stairs, he hears the door being slammed open. He rushes up the stairs, not sure of what he will find when he sees the subject about to walk into the bedroom. POLICE! He announces, LEMME SEE YOUR HANDS! LEMME SEE YOUR HANDS! Luckily the guy comes out, hands first. No weapons in sight. GET ON THE FLOOR! GET DOWN!! The subject is down. He walks over, gun drawn and ready to shoot. He hears his back up approaching and when he gets the ok, he walks over and handcuffs the subject. Case closed.
He gets on the radio again. Tells the dispatcher that the subject is in custody and to advise the complainant that she can step out. He walks into the fourth door from the left of the staircase to hear the bathroom door cautiously open. He says in a firm but gentle voice, its ok ma'am we got him. C'mon out. She runs out and into his arms. She gives him a tight hug, thank you. Thank you so much. He smiles. Just doing my job ma'am.
He transports the dirt bag to jail, Finishes his report. The vehicle accident had to be given to another unit. His shift is over. He has enough time to stop at a local coffee house before heading home and taking the kids to school. He's dead tired, but he has to go to court after he drops the kids off. Caffeine is a miracle. Hopefully, his court appearance doesn't take long and he can catch some sleep before picking up the kids in the afternoon. He has to work again tonight.
It isn't difficult to see where the burglar went. He follows the mud prints through the kitchen, past the hallway and to the staircase. Thank God for the rain. Just as he makes his way up the stairs, he hears the door being slammed open. He rushes up the stairs, not sure of what he will find when he sees the subject about to walk into the bedroom. POLICE! He announces, LEMME SEE YOUR HANDS! LEMME SEE YOUR HANDS! Luckily the guy comes out, hands first. No weapons in sight. GET ON THE FLOOR! GET DOWN!! The subject is down. He walks over, gun drawn and ready to shoot. He hears his back up approaching and when he gets the ok, he walks over and handcuffs the subject. Case closed.
He gets on the radio again. Tells the dispatcher that the subject is in custody and to advise the complainant that she can step out. He walks into the fourth door from the left of the staircase to hear the bathroom door cautiously open. He says in a firm but gentle voice, its ok ma'am we got him. C'mon out. She runs out and into his arms. She gives him a tight hug, thank you. Thank you so much. He smiles. Just doing my job ma'am.
He transports the dirt bag to jail, Finishes his report. The vehicle accident had to be given to another unit. His shift is over. He has enough time to stop at a local coffee house before heading home and taking the kids to school. He's dead tired, but he has to go to court after he drops the kids off. Caffeine is a miracle. Hopefully, his court appearance doesn't take long and he can catch some sleep before picking up the kids in the afternoon. He has to work again tonight.
He sits back in his police cruiser and he starts to think of the uncertainty. The many times he's had a close call. The many situations he's wanted to run from, but instead runs into. He thinks of the disrespect he deals with from every angle. And yet, these are the same people that look to him for reassurance that everything will be ok. But, who does this for him? He thinks of the pending budget cuts and whether or not it's all worth it. He always wanted to be a cop. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to help people. But, the cost is his life. He looks at the time. He's going to be late to get the kids. He wants to call his wife to drop them off, but he fights the temptation. He needs to see his kids. He’s doing this for them. As he sets his car into drive, he thinks to himself, things could be worse. He could be without a job. Yet again, he could have lost his life today. He drives off not knowing if today will be the last day he takes his kids to school. It's just another day in paradise.
What was your work day like?
What was your work day like?
