Guest guest Posted January 1, 2004 Report Share Posted January 1, 2004 > I have a deputy that is not feeling to comfy out there on the streets. He is > concerned for his welfare. > jamie in iowa > DCSO ******************************************************************** Tell him welfare checks don't come till the end of the month. Werling NØXZY Anamosa, IA scott@... My 2002 Olympic Pics http://www.photoisland.com login: Ridgeroader password: blah My Family Genealogy at http://www.n-connect.net/scott/index.htm Bus station is where the buses stop. Train station is where the trains stop. At my desk, there's a workstation. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted January 2, 2004 Report Share Posted January 2, 2004 Hey ...I can't remember where I got these, but here they are. -Hal Weese ETTO / Tactical Dispatcher Metropolitan Emergency Communications Center Nashville, TN A TRIBUTE TO DISPATCHERS By Chief Wagoner, Loveland Co. PD Someone once asked me if I thought that answering telephones for a living was a profession. I said, " I thought it was a calling. " And so is dispatching. I have found in my law enforcement career that dispatchers are the unsung heroes of public safety. They miss the excitement of riding in a speeding car with lights flashing and sirens wailing. They can only hear of the bright orange flames leaping from a burning building. They do not get to see the joy on the face of worried parents as they see their child begin breathing on its own, after it has been given CPR. Dispatchers sit in darkened rooms looking at computer screens and talking to voices from faces they never see. It's like reading a lot of books, but only half of each one. Dispatchers connect the anxious conversations of terrified victims, angry informants, suicidal citizens and grouchy officers. They are the calming influence of all of them - the quiet, competent voices in the night that provide the pillars for the bridges of sanity and safety. They are expected to gather information from highly agitated people who can't remember where they live, what their name is, or what they just saw. And then, they are to calmly provide all that information to the officers, firefighters, or paramedics without error the first time and every time. Dispatchers are expected to be able to do five things at once - and do them well. While questioning a frantic caller, they must type the information into a computer, tip off another dispatcher, put another caller on hold, and listen to an officer run a plate for a parking problem. To miss the plate numbers is to raise the officer's ire; to miss the caller's information may be to endanger the same officer's life. But, the officer will never understand that. Dispatchers have two constant companions, other dispatchers and stress. They depend on one, and try to ignore the other. They are chastened by upset callers, taken for granted by the public, and criticized by the officers. The rewards they get are inexpensive and infrequent, except for the satisfaction they feel at the end of a shift, having done what they were expected to do. Dispatchers come in all shapes and sizes, all races, both sexes, and all ages. They are blondes, and brunettes, and redheads. They are quiet and outgoing, single, or married, plain, beautiful, or handsome. No two are alike, yet they are all the same. They are people who were selected in a difficult hiring process to do an impossible job. They are as different as snowflakes, but they have one thing in common. They care about people and they enjoy being the lifeline of society - that steady voice in a storm - the one who knows how to handle every emergency and does it with style and grace; and, uncompromised competence. Dispatchers play many roles; therapist, doctor, lawyer, teacher, weatherman, guidance counselor, psychologist, priest, secretary, supervisor, politician, and reporter. And few people must jump through the emotional hoops on the trip through the joy of one callers birthday party, to the fear of another callers burglary in progress, to the anger of a neighbor blocked in their drive, and back to the birthday callers all in a two minute time frame. The emotional roller coaster rolls to a stop after an 8 or 10 hour shift, and they are expected to walk down to their car with steady feet and no queasiness in their stomach - because they are dispatchers. If they hold it in, they are too closed. If they talk about it, they are a whiner. If it bothers them, it adds more stress. If it doesn't, they question themselves, wondering why. Dispatchers are expected to have: -the compassion of Mother Theresa; -the wisdom of ; -the interviewing skills of Oprah Winfrey; -the gentleness of Florence Nightingale; -the patience of Job; -the voice of Barbara Streisand; -the knowledge of Einstein; -the answers of Ann Landers; -the humor of Letterman; -the investigative skills of Sgt. Joe Friday; -the looks of Griffith or Don ; -the faith of Graham; -the energy of Charo; -and the endurance of the Energizer Bunny. Is it any wonder that many drop out during training? It is a unique and talented person who can do this job and do it well. And, it is fitting and proper that we take a few minutes or hours this week to honor you for the job that each of you do. That recognition is overdue and it is insufficient. But, it is sincere. I have tried to do your job, and I have failed. It takes a special person with unique skills. I admire you and I thank you for the thankless job you do. You are heroes, and I am proud to work with you. Chief Tom Wagoner, April 12, 1994 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- AND GOD CREATED DISPATCHERS The angel walked in and found the Lord walking around in a small circle and muttering to himself. " What are you working on now lord?' he asked. " Well I finished creating a peace officer, now I'm working on a dispatcher " Since the angel could see nothing in the room, he asked God to tell him about it. " It's some what like the police officer model, it has 5 hands-one for answering the phone, two for typing, one for answering the radio, and one for grabbing a cup of coffee. The arms had to be placed fairly carefully since all the tasks a dispatcher does, have to be done simultaneously. The digestive system is a little complicated, since it runs on coffee, and food that can be delivered, but seldom needs to get up for the rest room. I made the skin tempered duralite covered with Teflon. A dispatcher's hide has to be tough enough to withstand darts from cranky officers, jabs from citizens, and lack of attention by administration, but not show any signs of wear and tear. Unlike a police officer it only needs one pair of eyes, so that left extra room for the ears. There are five sets of ears, one set for the telephone, one for the main radio, two for the other radios it has to monitor, and one to hear everything else going on around it. They fit all right on the head, since it had to be extra large for the brain. The brain has to be enormous so it can remember a full set of 10 codes, phonetic alphabet, at least two hundred different voices, the entire contents of three different SOP manuals, two Teletype manuals, and an NCIC code book. Of course I left enough extra space for it to learn the individual quirks of every different SGT., LT., Shift commander, fire chief, and other supervisor, and the ability to keep them all straight. There also has to be room for it to learn which situations need an officer and which don't, and also the ability to determine in less than two minutes what to do for any given event. There is a built in condenser so it can take an hour-long explanation, put it into 30 seconds worth of radio transmission, but still get the whole story across. Those switches on the front are for the emotions. It has to be able to talk to a mother who's child has just died without pain, a rape victim with empathy, a suicidal person with calmness and reassurance, and abusive drunk without getting angry. When one of the officers yells for help, it can't panic, and when someone doesn't make it, the dispatchers heart mustn't break. The little soft spot just to the left of the emotion switch is for abandoned animals, frightened children, and little old ladies who are lonely and just want to talk to someone for a few minutes. The dispatcher has to care very much for the officers and firefighters it serves, without getting personally involved with any of them, so I added another switch for that. Plus of course, the dispatcher can't have any of its own issues to worry about while it is on duty, so that last switch turns those off. The patience switch is turned up to high all the time on the CTO model, and I've added an extra fuse to those to those to handle the overload. A dispatcher has to be able to function efficiently under less than good physical conditions, and be flexible enough to withstand whatever whim the administration comes up with, while still retaining it's general shape and form. That warm fuzzy shoulder is, there for officers to use when they gripe, other dispatchers when they hurt, and for those who are shell shocked by a horrible call and just need someone to be there. The voice gave me a little trouble, it has to be clear and easy to understand, calm and even when everyone else is screaming, but still able to convey empathy and caring while remaining totally professional. It runs for a full 12 hours on very little sleep, requires almost no days off, and gets paid less than an executive secretary. " The dispatcher sounds wonderful lord " , said the angel, " Where is this amazing creation? " " Well you see, " answered the Supreme Being " Dispatchers are invisible unless they make a mistake. So it's practically impossible to tell when they are run down, worn out or in need of repair. Now that I've created them, I can't see the original model to make enough of them to go around. " ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Just one more thing... by Fred Mills The phone's too slow, so said the Chief; With radio cars, we'll catch the thief. Not many cars, just one or two, One little thing for Dispatch to do... Then came the thought of the radio log; Hey, that's modern, we're going whole hog. They're sitting there anyway, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... We'll put in a window, the public to face; We'll put it right here, in the radio place. They're already here, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... Ambulance, hospital, and ALS; Med-Com's the thing to handle this mess. Some spot at the desk, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... Add aircraft and fire and call us Control; While we're at it, add Doggie Patrol. Same console and chair, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... Add motors, the Narcs, and quite a few pagers; All kinds of traffic, both minor and major. We've radio already, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... Another phone board, one hundred lines; We need them all to keep up with the times. We had phones before, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... The public's in peril, help must come quick; Add 9-1-1, there, that's the trick. One phone's like the rest, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... We need to control this social unrest; Here's the thing, let's add OES. Same building and staff, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... The bureau's too busy to answer the phone; Call-forward to Dispatch, they're always at home. Same number and phone, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... Have booking clear warrants? You must be insane. Have Dispatch do it, they're best at this game. Same terminal, same system, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... We need better stats to get more cops; Run more suspects, more traffic stops. They know how already, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... We must have more info to help catch the crooks; Another computer to balance the books. Like the other computer, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... A citizen wonders; What took so long? Time all responses, we can't go wrong. They're in there already, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... The budget's a mess, we must cut back; Fill vacant positions? That's out of whack. If three are needed, than two will do, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... Breaks for lunches, coffee, or stretch? Stay at the console, you miserable wretch! Never took them before, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... Re-type ATL's to send to and fro, No money for printers; Where did it go? They know how to type, so it's nothing new, Just one more thing for Dispatch to do... No one sees the frustration, pressure, and stress; But everyone adds their bit to the mess. When your back's to the wall, a question to ponder, Is Dispatch too busy get help out yonder? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- NOTICE TO ALL POLICE OFFICERS FROM: Communications Bureau SUBJECT: Radio Room Reminders We dispatchers, being 25% mental and 75% professional, give to you our point of view. Please let it be known that: 1) When you are given a call, we don't care if you are leaving the East Side of Hell.......JUST GO! 2) When given a call, do not say any sentence that begins with " Okay, but first hold me out at... " When you are on a self-initiated call, say so then; not two days later. 3) We CALL tows, we don't drive them and we can't make them hurry. 4) It's not a plot to get you. When you are responding to a traffic accident, we really don't know what side of the street the wreck is on. We don't have crystal ball, x-ray vision or ESP. 5) If we say something is not in the computer, IT'S REALLY ISN'T. 6) The computers really do go down. And often. 7) WE don't take the calls on the phone. Yes, Officers there really are Call Takers. Calls actually come up on our call screens with no descriptions, no call back numbers, and not even next of kin notification. You can cuss us, but we have a rule: we can't cuss the Call Takers, or insult their family members. 8) Hang out on your calls, we don't care. But when your fellow officer in the same sector does it, and you have to respond to his call, get mad at him...not us. 9) Know that we DO call you names, just as quick as you call us names. 10) To All Off Duty Officers: We are not furnished with an off duty list and we don't know which club you may be working that weekend, since you club hop more than partying public. 11) To All District Clerks: We are not Call Takers. We are not Police Officers and you sure as hell are not Dispatchers. If you have a non-emergency call, use the phone...not the radio. 12) We really do have only 2 hands, 2 feet, 2 ears, and one mouth. We really don't have an assistant helping us with all your requests, so please show us a little patience. 13) Emergency traffic means just that. SHUT UP and LISTEN for the ALL CLEAR!! You would be the first one to raise hell if you were the one that needed the radio. 14) At shift change, calls do not stop coming in. We don't care if you pass the call along to the Chief himself as long as it's off our screen. 15) Those radios in you hands have a two-second delay. USE IT. Your transmissions do break up, and above all...we TALK on the radio, we don't work on them. We can't twist our bodies into antennas or stand on our heads for better reception. 16) We know that some of you get excited and scream. That's okay, but to those of you who scream to clear for your lunch break, run a plate, asked for a time check, well..............we reserve those " special calls " (sex assaults, rollover DUI accidents, DOA's or any other call that has a lot of paper) just for you. 17) And finally...we all have one thing in common. We all must be a little weird for choosing these jobs, or we wouldn't be here. We respect the job you do, so please give us that respect in return. With humor and well wishes, Be safe. Your Dispatchers. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- You're Not A Cop Until You Taste Them The department was all astir, there was a lot of laughing and joking due to all the new officers, myself included, hitting the streets today for the first time. After months of seemingly endless amounts of classes, paperwork, and lectures we were finally done with the Police Academy and ready to join the ranks of our department. All you could see were rows of cadets with huge smiles and polished badges. As we sat in the briefing room, we could barely sit still anxiously awaiting our turn to be introduced and given our beat assignment or, for the layperson, our own portion of the city to " serve and protect. " It was then that he walked in. A statue of a man - 6 foot 3 and 230 pounds of solid muscle, he had black hair with highlights of gray and steely eyes that make you feel nervous even when he wasn't looking at you. He had a reputation for being the biggest and the smartest officer to ever work our fair city. He had been on the department for longer than anyone could remember and those years of service had made him into somewhat of a legend. The new guys, or " rookies " as he called us, both respected and feared him. When he spoke even, the most seasoned officers paid attention. It was almost a privilege when one of the rookies got to be around when he would tell one of his police stories about the old days. But we knew our place and never interrupted for fear of being shooed away. He was respected and revered by all who knew him. After my first year on the department I still had never heard or saw him speak to any of the rookies for any length of time. When he did speak to them, all he would say was, " So, you want to be a policeman do you hero? I' ll tell you what, when you can tell me what they taste like, then you can call yourself a real policeman. " This particular phrase I had heard dozens of times. Me and my buddies all had bets about " what they taste like " actually referred to. Some believed it referred to the taste of your own blood after a hard fight. Others thought if referred to the taste of sweat after a long day's work. Being on the department for a year, I thought I knew just about everyone and everything. So one afternoon, I mustered up the courage and walked up to him. When he looked down at me, I said, " You know, I think I've paid my dues. I've been in plenty of fights, made dozens of arrests, and sweated my butt off just like everyone else. So what does that little saying of yours mean anyway? " With that, he merely stated, " Well, seeing as how you've said and done it all, you tell me what it means hero. " When I had no answer, he shook his head and snickered, " rookies, " and walked away. The next evening was to be the worst one to date. The night started out slow, but as the evening wore on, the calls became more frequent and dangerous. I made several small arrests and then had a real knock down drag out fight. However, I was able to make the arrest without hurting the suspect or myself. After that, I was looking forward to just letting the shift wind down and getting home to my wife and daughter. I had just glanced at my watch and it was 11:55, five more minutes and I would be on my way to the house. I don't know if it was fatigue or just my imagination, but as I drove down one of the streets on my beat, I thought I saw my daughter standing on someone else's porch. I looked again but it was not my daughter as I had first thought but merely a small child about her age. She was probably only six or seven years old and dressed in an oversized shirt that hung to her feet. She was clutching an old rag doll in her arms that looked older than me. I immediately stopped my patrol car to see what she was doing outside her house at such an hour by herself. When I approached, there seemed to be a sigh of relief on her face. I had to laugh to myself, thinking she sees the hero policeman come to save the day. I knelt at her side and asked what she was doing outside. She said, " My mommy and daddy just had a really big fight and now mommy won' t wake up. " My mind was reeling. Now what do I do? I instantly called for backup and ran to the nearest window. As I looked inside I saw a man standing over a lady with his hands covered in blood, her blood. I kicked open the door, pushed the man aside and checked for a pulse, but unable to find one. I immediately cuffed the man and began doing CPR on the lady. It was then I heard a small voice from behind me, " Mr. Policeman, please make my mommy wake up. " I continued to perform CPR until my backup and medics arrived but they said it was too late. She was dead. I then looked at the man. He said, " I don't know what happened. She was yelling at me to stop drinking and go get a job and I had just had enough. I just shoved her so she would leave me alone and she fell and hit her head. " As I walked the man out to the car in handcuffs, I again saw that little girl. In the five minutes that has passed, I went from hero to monster. Not only was I unable to wake up her mommy, but now I was taking daddy away too. Before I left the scene, I thought I would talk to the little girl. To say what, I don't know. Maybe just to tell her I was sorry about her mommy and daddy. But as I approached, she turned away and I knew it was useless and I would probably make it worse. As I sat in the locker room at the station, I kept replaying the whole thing in my minds. Maybe if I would have been faster or done something different, just maybe that little girl would still have her mother. And even though it may sound selfish, I would still be the hero. It was then that I felt a large hand on my shoulder. I heard that all too familiar question again, " Well, hero, what do they taste like? " But before I could get mad or shout some sarcastic remark, I realized that all the pent up emotions had flooded the surface and there was a steady stream of tears cascading down my face. It was at that moment that I realized what the answer to his question was. Tears. With that, he began to walk away, but he stopped. " You know, there was nothing you could have done differently, " he said. " Sometimes you can do everything right and still the outcome is the same. You may not be the hero you once thought you were, but now you ARE a police officer. " Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted January 3, 2004 Report Share Posted January 3, 2004 In a message dated 1/3/2004 6:14:46 AM Central Standard Time, tenseven@... writes: > Hey ...I can't remember where I got these, but here they are. > > -Hal Weese > hey, thanks to everyone who sent me some poems. appreciate it very much. I picked one and gave it to the deputy, he wouldn't read it in front of me. He took it home, and it was his friday, soooo will see what he says, when he comes back.. thanks again friends jamie in iowa DCSO Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted January 4, 2004 Report Share Posted January 4, 2004 In a message dated 1/4/2004 8:51:35 AM Central Standard Time, lcfish@... writes: > So...........which one did you pick? Inquiring minds want to know! > > > A DISPATCHERS PROMISE.. SUSAN SENT IT jamie in iowa DCSO Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted January 4, 2004 Report Share Posted January 4, 2004 So...........which one did you pick? Inquiring minds want to know! I > picked one and gave it to the deputy, he wouldn't read it in front of me. He > took it home, and it was his friday, soooo will see what he says, when he > comes back.. thanks again friends > > jamie in iowa > DCSO Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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