Hello everyone and welcome to the Referral-palooza contest! I posted something about it earlier today to see how much of an interest it would generate and it looks like the people want it so I’m going to do it. This contest is all about referrals folks! The person who refers the MOST LIKES to the Jabber Log fan page will win a prize and possibly be in the running for the grand prize!
So what do you have to do to qualify? Well, there are just 3 things that you have to do.
- Subscribe to thejabberlog.com (at the right of this page)
- Like Jabber Log on Facebook (Most of you have already so cheers!)
- (Most important part) Send people to LIKE Jabber Log on Facebook. Once they LIKE the page, have them post and tag you in a comment telling me who sent them.
The amount of LIKES/Referrals you bring in will get you one of two prizes and maybe even enter you in a drawing for the grand prize.
1st Prize = Official Within the Trenches T-Shirt
2nd Prize = Official Within the Trenches Coffee Mug
If you hit 25 referrals then you will be in the running for the grand prize of an iPod Nano!
The contest starts today 02/24/2012 and ends 03/03/2013 at midnight. This will give you plenty of time to get your referrals in. Let’s have some fun with this and make sure to share this post!
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By Ricardo — 8 years ago
On the heels of the post on my scary ass house, I thought I would share some stories from my childhood. I see them as interesting now but as a kid they scared the crap out of me…ok, they still scare me. During the time I lived in Fennville both of my grandmothers lived with my family. I loved having them there because of their love, warmth…and their stories. What interested me the most about them was the fact that they were both Curandera’s or Folk Doctor’s. I didn’t get to see a lot of what my fathers mom did but my moms mom performed stuff that I cannot explain. I remember families would bring their children to see my grandmother every now and then. The kid would be screaming and acting out. There would be a high fever and my grandmother would take them into the room and after a while they would come back and the kid would be fine. I always wanted to know what went on in her room and when I got older I finally got my chance.
A family had come over with a little boy who was completely out of it. He was running a fever and crying uncontrollably. My grandmother brought me into the room with her and the child. I was excited to finally see her in action but I was also scared. She laid the kid down on the bed and pulled out a cross made out of palm leaves and she had an egg. I watched as she did the sign of the cross over the child and said a prayer. After several minutes of this the child calmed down and then stopped crying all together. His fever had vanished and my grandmother took the egg, cracked it, and emptied it into a bowl she had near by. She then broke toothpicks in half and made crosses out of them. She placed them onto the egg and I shit you not, the egg began to fry. I can’t explain it and I don’t remember her exact explanation but she said that whatever it was that was bothering the child was transferred to the egg and cooked out. Now I know this sounds weird but it did happen and if you ask any Mexican family they probably have similar stories.
Along with this, there were stories that my grandmother used to tell my siblings and I growing up. They are stories that have been past down and they were probably told so that we could behave because we used to get rowdy around our grandmother. Whatever the reason, it did the trick. One story that has stayed with me is the story of La Llorona or The Crying Women. Grandma used to tell us that if we did not behave that La Llorona was going to come out and get us at night. I didn’t know the entire story when I was younger, but it sounded scary as hell. I mean, The Crying Woman? Hearing someone crying in the dark and seeing no one in the immediate area is creepy! So the story goes that a beautiful women named Maria killed her children by drowning them to be with the man she loved and in the end rejected her. It’s possible that the man was the father of her children but had left her for another women. Maria was devastated by the rejection of her man and killed herself. At the gates of heaven Maria was asked where her children were. Maria replied that she did not know and was told that she could not pass through the gates of heaven without her children. She now wanders the Earth for all eternity, searching for her drowned children. Her constant weeping is how she received her name. It has been said that she will kidnap wandering children or children who disobey their parents. People have claimed to see her at night or in the late evening searching around rivers, lakes, and oceans.
It’s pretty creepy if you think about it. There are more stories but this one is the one I remember most. What my grandmother did for families was unbelievable but it happened and it worked. The next time you are out on the river or wandering close to a lake, listen for the weeps. It’s possible to hear it during the day but at night is when the show happens. If it’s night time watch out for her and listen but be careful because La Llorona might just kidnap you.Post Views: 313
By Ricardo — 1 year ago
Welcome to another episode of Within the Trenches, true stories from the 9-1-1 dispatchers who live them.
Episode topics –
- Podcast appearances
- Recap of NENA 9-1-1 Goes to Washington
- Celebrating 50 years of 9-1-1
- Kari’s Law – Official signing
- NG9-1-1 Institute Awards Reception
- FCC Commissioner Jessica Rosenworcel’s speech
As always if you have any comments, questions, topic suggestions or you would like to be a guest, send an email to firstname.lastname@example.orgPost Views: 689
By Ricardo — 2 years agoThe following is in direct response to the Facebook comments of the policeone.com article “Should dispatchers be officially classified as first responders?” written by Melissa Mann. The article itself is great but there are some people who think we should not be reclassified or that we are not “in the shit” like the public safety personnel who are on scene.“I am NOT a first responder”Written by: Daphanie Bailes – Within the Trenches Admin, In Between the Chaos columnist for IAED & Senior Telecommunicator and Communications Training Coordinator for Martin County Fire RescueI’m not a first responder, that’s what lots of people say. How can you be a first responder, you just sit in a room. I would like to invite those who feel that way, to step into my world. The world of the faceless, the nameless. The world where I am only known by the sound of my voice. A voice that can portray everything from love to loathing. A voice that can give me away if I dwell on the fight at home, the fourth nastygram email of the day, the last bad 911 call or anything else that can affect my emotions. A world where I juggle the feelings associated with multiple calls, all at once. A world where I very rarely hear “Thank you” or “I want to do that when I grow up”. My world encompasses so much more than those four walls or my own voice. It is the voice of every caller or administrator on the phone, every firefighter and paramedic or EMT on the radio. It also includes the voices that don’t go away when I hang up the phone or walk out the door or try to close my eyes.I know I wasn’t the first person to put my boots on the ground but my voice was the first you heard. I broke thru language barriers to keep you safe. I instructed your loved one to give you lifesaving breaths until help could arrive. I told you to hide and kept you calm while evil walked past your closet door. I heard your wife’s screams when she realized you were beyond help. I talked to you and distracted you long enough for help to get there and take the gun from your hand. I used every resource available so we could find you when you rolled your car off the highway. I was with you when you took your last breaths. I felt your frustration and fear when the water was just too rough for you to help her. I reassured you when you begged for the minutes to disappear and for the ambulance to arrive. I shouldered your obscenities and continued to be your calm when you found your overdosed son. I prayed that you were at peace after you finally stopped the voices in your head. I told you to sing to your sweetheart, to calm him, to drown out the rest of the noise while we waited for EMS and Fire to find your mangled truck. I was the first to hear your tiny but strong cries after you made your grand entrance into this world and silently cried tears of joy with your family.I prayed when I heard your ‘Mayday’ call. I prayed because you are my brother or sister and when you hurt, I hurt. I train and learn every day, beyond what is required, because I am the one and only person who is not allowed to be caught off guard and not know what to do. So many lives desperately depend on me to know what to do or who to call and to make it happen in the blink of an eye.In a way, those people are correct. I’m not a first responder by the purest definition. I am a highly trained Public Safety Telecommunicator. I am THE FIRST RESPONDER. I am the first to respond to that emergency with life-saving instructions. I am the first to alert law enforcement, fire and medical personnel to the cries for help. I am the first to hear and feel heartache and joy from people I will never know. I am the first to comfort those souls in need. And I will be the first to invite you into these four walls and experience my world. Not because I want a pat on the back or have grandiose feelings of superiority, but because I want you to understand it.Post Views: 386