Welcome to another episode of Within the Trenches, true stories from the 9-1-1 dispatchers who live them. Episode 203 features Christine, dispatch supervisor with Waukesha County Communications, Wisconsin, her daughter Chloe and Ryan Dedmon of Kim Turner, LLC. This episode was recorded at the convention center in Nashville, Tennessee for the 2018 National NENA conference and highlights a session that Chloe gave called, “Growing up 9-1-1.” It’s an episode you do not want to miss.
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Episode topics –
- Growing up 9-1-1
- And more
As always, if you have any comments, questions, or you would like to be a guest on the show, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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By Ricardo — 3 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: 454
By Ricardo — 3 years ago
A Guest Blog Post By:
This morning I woke up as my husband was getting ready to head into work. Today is his normal day off, yet he is going in to work some overtime and to lead the range training for the other officers. I saw his range uniform laying there. He got dressed, I gave him a kiss, told him his butt looked good in those pants and off he went. I proceeded to start laundry, and I see his uniform needs washed. I broke down. Why? I can’t tell you exactly why it was that moment that sent me into tears, all I know is that, that moment sparked a million thoughts running rampant through my head.
What if this is the last time I wash this uniform? What if I get “the call”? What if something bad happens?
Then my mind turns to hate; Why don’t all these idiots understand? Why are they killing MY family? If I had it my way, I’d just… and I stopped myself. Hate is powerful, and in a matter of seconds, I had so much rage inside of me against these Officer Murdering Cowards. (Okay, maybe there’s still a little bit) I should not give these monsters that satisfaction.
Back to more questions that run through my head as I’m in tears. Why does he do it? Wait… HOW does he do it? You can ask any officer WHY they do their job, and you will likely get a very politically correct answer of, “to serve my community” which for most is VERY true. However, “WHY” is a very loaded word…
Why?- I can’t speak for every officer’s “why”, or even my husbands, but what I can tell you is how I interpret my husband’s “why” from what I’ve seen, so I’m going to throw out a few scenarios of what I think drives my husband to be a Police Officer.
First off, children. There is no doubt that helping children is a driving force behind my husbands service to our community. Example: I receive a phone call from him, “Babe, do we have any of the boys old gloves, hats, scarves that don’t fit them anymore and are still in good shape?” Me, “Yah.” Him, “Could you run them into the PD now?” Me, wondering, but without question, I take them in. He thanks me, gives me a kiss and goes back inside. He returns home that night to explain that he had a woman who was caught stealing gloves and hats from a local store. She was stealing them for her children, because it was cold outside and she did not have the means to afford them. So he gave the bag full of hats, gloves and scarfs, to this woman for her children. A selfless act of kindness and support in what is possibly this woman’s worst day. All for the children.There is a distinct difference in his facial expressions when he returns home on a day that he has had to handle any case where children are being mistreated. Children that are beaten, children that are sleeping in homes full of cockroaches, and the only bed they have is a rug on the floor. It kills him to see this, knowing that this is a reality for some children.
Another reason, to help others. A couple months back, and some of you Marshalltown people will remember these people, there was a group of 3 “train hoppers” traveling through Marshalltown. They had two dogs with them, and no where to stay. One of their dogs was hit by a car. My husband, in his squad, picked up the dog, took it to the vet, contacted a local rescue personally, that paid the bill for the dog’s treatment. A few days later, these 3 individuals had to spend some time in jail. My husband arranged for placement for the dogs, while the individuals were in jail. Once released, he took these people dog treats, and dog food, before they left town. It turns out these people ended up causing a lot of trouble in town after my husband’s kindness towards them, however, he did not doubt his help for them.
Another that will sit with me for a long time; mostly because it scared me & I told him he should no longer do that. After a long shift at work my husband returned home, slept then got up early to go help a fellow officer on a home project. While returning home from said project, my husband drove past the jail. He saw an individual that he had arrested the night before walking on the highway, headed towards town, after being released in the morning. My husband, the arresting officer of this man, the man who took this individual to jail, stopped and offered this guy a ride back to town. The individual got into the car, not realizing it was the officer that had arrested him at first, thanked my husband for picking him up, then looked over… silence. Followed by a “holy crap, your the officer. Wow, Thank You SO MUCH! That is so amazing, I can’t believe”…. and so on.
So to answer my own question of why. That is “WHY.” To help people to help children, despite their background, their color of skin, their age, their looks, their lifestyle.
Now, onto the hard part, HOW?? I struggle with this, because I can guarantee you, that I absolutely could not be a police officer. There is just no way. I do not have the ability to keep my calm and cool in situations that they deal with.
How do they day after day, experience people at their worst moments, and return home at night to their families and say, “Oh work was good.” ?
How do they go to a job where they know that there are people out there that want to murder them, because they wear a uniform?
How do they miss endless holidays, birthdays, family gatherings etc. all to put on a uniform that is all too often met with hate.
How do they, get spit at, hit, screamed at, called names, and stand their ground without yelling back, without screaming back, without holding a grudge?
How do they face evil daily, and get up early to go in and work extra shifts on their day off?
I don’t have the answer. I simply do not understand, how. I can tell you that if you ask my husband his answer will likely be a very downplayed response like, “Oh, it’s just part of the job. Not that big of a deal. Ya get used to it and don’t take it personally.” Again, I can’t explain how, and I assume most officers do not want us to know, how, because their version of “how” is too intense for us to handle.
I do know that being an Officer’s wife has changed me. Any Officer’s spouse that tells you otherwise is lying. It’s not a bad change, but a “new normal.” What is normal for your family on your husband of wives day off, differs slightly for my family. Before I knew my husband, I never had a strong tie to law enforcement, I knew a few officers and I respected them, but was still pissed at them when I got a speeding ticket….or 5. I met my husband, I still had a very misconstrued view of how they do their jobs. After awhile I learned, that what I had thought, from all of my years of experience watching Law & Order, was well, all wrong. I’m sure I asked a million questions that my husband thought were annoying, but he answered them. After awhile you stop asking. You realize that, the last thing they want to do is answer a million questions about work when they are finally home from work and able to relax. So you learn to ask the simple, “How was work?” get the typical, “Oh it was good” and then move on. No details needed. My husband needs to know that home is the place where he doesn’t have to relive the evil, tragedy, and anger that he see’s while at work. As an Officers spouse you will also experience a new “normal.” Suddenly people you barely know or talk to, believe that you are now their personal police person. If I had a quarter for everytime someone asked me a police related question, well my husband wouldn’t need to be a cop anymore. Or people that automatically think it’s okay for them to tell you what they think about your spouse. My personal favorite, An individual I work with, and was meeting for the first time, asked what my spouse did. I hesitantly responded, “He’s a Police Officer.” She explained her son had been into some trouble. I changed the subject. I return to work the next day and first words out of her mouth, “Oh I asked my son about your husband. My son says your husband is a real dick!” (Now most wives, may walk away, try to downplay it, or give some nice politically correct reason…I’m not so good at that, and at this time I had been working for 20 hours already and had 10 more to go, so…) My response, “Well then your son must be a real piece of shit! Cause my husband is only a dick if ya really earn it!” Needless to say, she didn’t have much of a response. This is an example, of how your life changes as the spouse of an Officer. People think this is okay, they think they have to tell you. Luckily all of us spouses are stronger than anyone knows and we get used to this banter and with time, (I’m still working on it) you learn to ignore it.
I don’t want people to think that their job is completely unappreciated, it isn’t. There are most definitely people that do support them. All sorts of people in our community have shown an outpouring of support to our officers in these past few weeks. Simply telling an Officer, Thank-You, may be the one and only positive experience they have that day. I can tell you that all of our Officers are hurting right now, not just in Marshalltown, but Nation wide. Some cover the hurt with strength and attitude, some with laughter and smiles others do not cover it, but meet it with anger and resent while trying to maintain a professional demeanor and appearance. So remember that when you see an Officer and they don’t have a smile on their face, or they aren’t dancing in the street with people. Their family, their co-workers, their brothers and sisters are being hunted & murdered, and they don’t know if at any second, they are next.
So be compassionate, listen, and show your support.
Time for me to put that uniform into the dryer. This is a load of laundry that I will never forget. I only hope, that I get the honor of washing that uniform for many, many years to come.Post Views: 429
By Ricardo — 2 years ago
Ep 152 is an extension of the podcast called Imagine Listening. This episode features the stories of the #IAM911 movement. It also features a former police officer who tells his story of a burglary call he went out to that resulted in an officer involved shooting. This is an episode you do not want to miss.
Make sure to check out the links below and as always if you have any comments, questions, or you would like to be a guest on the show send an email to email@example.com.
A letter to the man I killed –
Officer Involved (Documentary) – Website
Episode topics –
Post Views: 448
- #IAM911 stories
- Burglary radio traffic
- Audio – A letter to the man I killed