Dispatching Hazards

Smoking in the work place is now mostly just a distant memory for most.  Its elimination in some environments had benefits beyond personal health, though.  

My friend Joey was the 11-7 dispatcher for police fire, and ambulance in a small municipality.  These were the days of police call boxes, a real Ruth Buzzi switchboard, and fire alarm boxes reporting on paper tape.  Logs and records were all paper as well, and the only computer in the room connected to the state for checking wants, warrants, and driver’s license information.   The call volume was such that a single dispatcher per shift was sufficient, so they worked alone.  Joey was, at that time, also a chain smoker, a lit cigarette his constant companion.  

We talked periodically on the phone—the non-recorded public line, a good thing considering some of the conversations.  Occasionally he would have to drop off the line if a fire or significant incident came in.  Routine calls, license checks for the cops, and the like he could handle and continue his conversation with me; multi-tasking long before the term was born.  

One night was a little different.  The subject we were discussing is long forgotten.  What happened next is not.  Joey’s normally calm voice exploded on the phone.  

“Oh my god, I’ve gotta go,” he yelled.

“What’s the matter? What’s coming in?”  I anticipated a huge fire or other major incident, not his actual answer.

“I just set all my fucking papers on fire; I’ve gotta go,” and the phone went dead.   

It was probably a good thing as my pronounced laughter would not have been well received at the moment.  Just another reason smoking can be hazardous to….your health.

 

 

From the Archives.....

It was the Friday night before Christmas, a crisp  starlit evening.  We were cruising the township roadways with Santa Claus on the rescue.  It was an annual event, much enjoyed by many of the smaller members of the community and, truth be told, by many of the bigger ones as well.   

The lights were flashing, the siren screaming, the air horn blasting and regular sounds of “Ho Ho Ho” were echoing in the night air from behind me.  I rode the officer’s seat in the cab, just enjoying the atmosphere and the smiling children we encountered on our slow tour.  My fun was broken by a radio call. 

 “Comm Center to Chief 36,” the radio query came.  After I responded, the dispatcher asked, “You wouldn’t happen to be out with Santa Claus by chance, would you, Chief?” 

 “Affirmative,” I answered. 

“Can you call in by phone?” the dispatcher asked. 

I didn’t have a good feeling as I reached for the cell phone mounted on the dash.  Was some scrooge upset by the siren noise, I wondered.  When I got the dispatcher on the line, it was nothing like that. 

“Hey, Chief, we just had a call from a grandma on Greenfield Road.  She was upset ‘cause she had been out when you went by and her grandchildren just missed Santa.”

"Please tell me she didn’t call in on 911?” I asked the dispatcher, almost dreading his response.  The 911 emergency line is certainly not the proper method to obtain a visit by Santa Claus. 

  “Oh yeah, she did,” he said with a laugh. 

  “Sorry about that, we’ll take another run down that road.”  We have to take care of a grandma like that, I thought to myself. 

 “Thanks, Chief, and Merry Christmas,” the dispatcher answered, as we both disconnected the line. 

 

A Christmas Excerpt.....

It was the Friday night before Christmas, a crisp  starlit evening.  We were cruising the township roadways with Santa Claus on the rescue.  It was an annual event, much enjoyed by many of the smaller members of the community and, truth be told, by many of the bigger ones as well.   

The lights were flashing, the siren screaming, the air horn blasting and regular sounds of “Ho Ho Ho” were echoing in the night air from behind me.  I rode the officer’s seat in the cab, just enjoying the atmosphere and the smiling children we encountered on our slow tour.  My fun was broken by a radio call. 

 “Comm Center to Chief 36,” the radio query came.  After I responded, the dispatcher asked, “You wouldn’t happen to be out with Santa Claus by chance, would you, Chief?” 

 “Affirmative,” I answered. 

“Can you call in by phone?” the dispatcher asked. 

I didn’t have a good feeling as I reached for the cell phone mounted on the dash.  Was some scrooge upset by the siren noise, I wondered.  When I got the dispatcher on the line, it was nothing like that. 

“Hey, Chief, we just had a call from a grandma on Greenfield Road.  She was upset ‘cause she had been out when you went by and her grandchildren just missed Santa.”

"Please tell me she didn’t call in on 911?” I asked the dispatcher, almost dreading his response.  The 911 emergency line is certainly not the proper method to obtain a visit by Santa Claus. 

  “Oh yeah, she did,” he said with a laugh. 

  “Sorry about that, we’ll take another run down that road.”  We have to take care of a grandma like that, I thought to myself. 

 “Thanks, Chief, and Merry Christmas,” the dispatcher answered, as we both disconnected the line.