TweetyZ Official Bear Family Member's blog: "DISPATCHER'S"

Did Santa bring it A City cop was on his horse waiting to cross the street when a little girl on her new shiny bike stopped beside him. "Nice bike," the cop said "did Santa bring it to you?" "Yep," the little girl said, "he sure did!" The cop looked the bike over and handed the girl a $5 ticket for a safety violation. The cop said, "Next year tell Santa to put a reflector light on the back of it." The young girl looked up at the cop and said, "Nice horse you got there, Sir, did Santa bring it to you?" "Yes, he sure did," chuckled the cop. The little girl looked up at the cop and said, "Next year tell Santa the dick goes underneath the horse, not on top."

YOU MIGHT BE A DISPATCHER IF..... You answer you home phone, "9-1-1, What is your emergency?" The statement, "No I don't know him, he's the father of my baby but he don't mean nothing to me" makes perfect sense to you. Adult police officers, not related to you, refer to you as mother/father. You consider coffee an indispensable work tool. You see nothing wrong with eating a Taco Bell Grande Meal or pizza at 3am. You have the bladder capacity of a small, third world army. You believe that the statement, "It sure is quiet!" will bring down the wrath of the gods upon you. You have spent time explaining to a police officer the difference between a dispatcher and a personal assistant. You live in fear of the full moon. You are on a first name basis with every crazy lunatic in your jurisdiction. You find no comfort in knowing that the equipment that you depend on to do your job and protect others was purchased at the lowest bid possible. You believe that the annual mandatory training classes are purposely scheduled on your days off. You spend more time discussing clothing color and description than Tommy Hilfiger and Calvin Klein. You respond faster to the name "Radio" or "Dispatch" than you do your own name. You have wanted to meet the guys named "My babies daddy" and "some dude." You find yourself talking to family and friends in codes. You hear more alien invasion/abduction stories than Scully and Mulder of the X- Files. You get impatient hearing people relate a story when you want "just the facts." You believe that 90% of the population can't look up phone numbers for themselves. You can easily listen to the TV, radio, and screaming kids and not miss a beat. Your friends and neighbors consult you about their legal matters. You know the exact address of every bar in your jurisdiction. You can give directions to anywhere in town off the top of your head. You have a tendency to giggle at your friends "big" problems. You become easily bored with happy, content people. You have perfected some witty response to the comment, "I pay your salary!" - Auther unknown

To: All police officers From: Communications Division Re: Common Survival We dispatchers, being 25% mental and 75% professional, give to you our point of view. Please let it be know 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 "You will have to hold my calls...." When you are on a self-initiated call, say so then; not two days later. 3.)We CALL wreckers; we don't drive them and we can't make them hurry. 4.) It is not our plot to "get you." We really don't know what side of the street your wreck is on. We don't have x-ray vision and never will. Sorry. 5.) If we say something is NOT in the computer, it isn't! 6.) The computers really do go down. And often. 7.) Hang out on your calls. We don't care. But when your buddy on another call does the same thing, and you have to take his calls, get mad at him, not us. 8.) Know that we DO call you names, just as quick as you call us names. 9.) To all desk persons: we are not simply call takers. We are not police and you sure as hell aren't dispatchers. If you have a non-emergency call, use the phone, not the radio. 10.) We really do only have two hands, two feet, two ears, and one mouth. 11.) Emergency traffic means just that....SHUT UP!!! You would be the first to raise hell if you were the one that needed the radio. We don't want you graveyard dead; we prefer you warm and breathing. 12.) At shift change, calls do not stop coming in. We don't care if you pass the call along to the incoming chief himself, as long as it is off of our screens. 13.) Those radios in your 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, stand on our heads, or turn up the output volume. 14.) We know that some of you get excited and scream. That's okay. But to those of you who scream just to check a plate, cram that plate where the sun doesn't shine. 15.) 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 the same respect in return. With humor and well wishes, Your dispatchers -Shirley Lee

I TAKE A BREATH AS I SIT DOWN, GOD GIVE ME STRENGTH TO MAKE THIS ROUND SO MANY LIVES, I HOLD IN HAND, SO MANY PEOPLE WITH DEMANDS. MY FIRST CALL, A CHILD IS SCREAMING, DADDY'S BEATING MOM AND SHE'S NOT BREATHING. IT'S HARD TO DEAL WITH AND STAY CALM, THE CHILD YELLS, "DAD'S GOT A GUN!" I HAVE TO TAKE CONTROL AND SAY, PLEASE SLOW DOWN THEY'RE ON THEIR WAY AS I DISPATCH TO MY DEPUTIES, "10-47, THERE IS WEAPONS" TEN THOUSAND THINGS RUSH THROUGH MY HEAD, GOD I PRAY SHE'S NOT DEAD. STAY ON THE PHONE AND TALK TO ME, AS I RISE TO MY FEET. THE COPS ARE HERE THE CHILD IS SAYING, STAY ON THE LINE AS I START PRAYING. "BE ADVISED HE HAS A GUN, AND HE ALSO HAS HIS SON." NOW I HAVE AN OPEN LINE, JUST A DISPATCHER IN THE BLIND "DISPATCH," I HEARD HIM SAY, "HIS NAME IS TEDDY AND HE'S OKAY." THEY CLEAR THE SCENE FROM THE CALL, NOT ONE DEPUTY HAD TO FALL. I TAKE A BREATH AS I SIT DOWN, THANK YOU GOD, WE MADE THAT ROUND. I'M JUST A DISPATCHER, CAN'T YOU SEE JUST A LIFELINE BETWEEN YOU AND ME. By Donna Lindsey

Sometimes I know. I'm short with you, But there's one of me and more of you. I work so hard to help you all, I try to explain each and every call. I have so many things to do at one time. And so much depends on decisions of mine. I have to be fast and very alert, In a split second time, you could get hurt. I might sound disturbed or I may sound mean, It's just my heart racing When you get on the scene. I try to get the facts, I try to be clear, You think I don't care, but it's just the fear. For I can't see and I don't know, I'm in here and all alone. Your life I feel is in my hands, A job to me, not many could stand. I start each shift with a prayer I say, That all goes well throughout the day. A citizen's sorrow I deal with the pain, Smile all the while, for you to get the fame. It would be nice and make my day too, If just once in a while, you said thank you. From your dispatcher Mary River

From the voice that you take with you on each and every run The one who never sees you when you may reach for your gun. I give you the honor, and the respect that your job deserves. With the hope of you believing, I NEVER WANT YOU HURT! I can't see the child struck down, or see the Mother's tears, And I can't see the blood and gore, left from one too many beers. But I can hear the emotion, you try so hard to hide, And I can hear the pain you feel, of another child that died. I talk to you and you laugh and laugh at your bad jokes and schemes, I even sit and listen to your retirement hopes and dreams. I do not see you often, That may be for the best, If so I might get careless, and lump you with the rest. I can't stop the bullet, I can't give you peace and make you rest, to face another day. I can't stop the fight before you there, can't wipe your sweating brow, But I CAN hope and pray for you, that you will be safe somehow. I talk to frantic people, try to get the facts you need, so you will be ever prepared, to face the horrible deed. I send you out to fight the drunk, I pray he has no gun, Dear God, Please help me hear him well, and see US through this run. And when my day is over, I pray before I sleep, Dear God, Please keep my officers safe, supply just what they need. Help me always manage, to be patient, kind and calm, I know that there are many times, they feel so all alone. Help me do the best I can get them safely through the day, and somehow let them know, Dear Lord, YOU WILL lead our way. Show them Lord, the voice they take, everywhere they go, wants to do the best they can, and that I am not their foe. Teach us Lord, that with your help, We CAN all survive, and do our jobs with grace and ease, Together, with great pride. May all of those who wear a uniform and who protect us everyday, come home to the ones they love, just like they left that day. I praise everyone of us who work in the Emergency Services field, whether they be volunteer or Paid. THANK YOU FOR DOING THE JOB THAT YOU DO!!! Author Unknown

Lord, in order to do my job better, please give me: The patience of Job, The wisdom of Solomon, The hide of an elephant, The knowledge of law, The ability to see around corners, thru walls and read minds, The ability to remember the location of every street, road, apartment and business in town and country, And the strength to carry this load of perfection. Author Unknown

Lord help us radio dispatchers. We need your guiding hand. We need your wisdom, too Lord, To fill the demands of men. We gather up the traffic from all around the state. We're yelled and screamed at unduly, which only causes hate. It's ten-four this and ten-four that. We hear it all day long. We have to write a thousand notes and answer all the phones. The patrolmen in the cars, Lord, they growl when we answer late when all they really wanted was a measly twenty-eight. We listen to the story of a mother whose child has run away. We hear of the missing husband who drinks up all his pay. Our job is so confusing we know not where to start. We pull our hair and grit our teeth and tear the room apart. It's enough to cause an ulcer, Lord. Our nerves grow more tense. It's just a thousand wonders we've got a grain of sense. So you bless us real good, Lord. And hold us by the hand. Help us under existing circumstances to do the best we can. Amen W.R. Borsch, Jr

I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said. You told me not to drink, Mom, so I drank soda instead I really felt proud inside, Mom, the way you said I would. I didn't drink and drive, Mom, even though the others said I should. I know I did the right thing, Mom, I know you are always right. Now the party is finally ending, Mom, as everyone is driving out of sight. As I got into my car, Mom, I knew I'd get home in one piece. Because of the way you raised me, so responsible and sweet. I started to drive away, Mom, but as I pulled out into the road, the other car didn't see me, Mom, and hit me like a load. As I lay there on the pavement, Mom, I hear the policeman say, the other guy is drunk, Mom, and now I'm the one who will pay. I'm lying here dying, Mom.. I wish you'd get here soon. How could this happen to me, Mom? My life just burst like a balloon. There is blood all around me, Mom, and most of it is mine. I hear the medic say, Mom, I'll die in a short time. I just wanted to tell you, Mom, I swear I didn't drink. It was the others, Mom. The others didn't think. He was probably at the same party as I. The only difference is, he drank and I will die. Why do people drink, Mom? It can ruin your whole life. I'm feeling sharp pains now. Pains just like a knife. The guy who hit me is walking, Mom, and I don't think it's fair. I'm lying here dying and all he can do is stare. Tell my brother not to cry, Mom. Tell Daddy to be brave. And when I go to heaven, Mom, put "Daddy's Girl" on my grave Someone should have told him, Mom, not to drink and drive. If only they had told him, Mom, I would still be alive. My breath is getting shorter, Mom. I'm becoming very scared. Please don't cry for me, Mom. When I needed you, you were always there. I have one last question, Mom, before I say good bye. I didn't drink and drive, so why am I the one to die? author unknown

A Dispatcher's Prayer From those of us behind the mic who never really see the sights We give to you the honor and respect you so deserve, With hope of being comrades and seen for what we're worth. I'm not on the accident scene to see the blood and gore, I see the answers in your eyes when you walk in the door. I need not ask you questions, the answers matter not. All I can do is offer coffee, yes, it's fresh and hot. I'll talk with you and keep it light and laugh at your bad jokes. Don't think for a minute that I don't really know the battle raging in your mind that humor covers...but your face belies. I cannot stop the bullet from the loaded gun Nor light the darkened alley through which you must run. I cannot ward off the blows you may suffer in a fight Nor give you back the rest you lose on sleepless nights. I can make sure you have the facts and face your call prepared. I can make sure you're not alone and get your backup there. I can keep for you an efficient log to make your report complete. Most of all, I can pray for you each night before I sleep. Dear God...Please keep my guys safe and lead them through the night. Don't let them fall from snipers bullets nor bleed from stabbing knives. Save them from the drunk that drives as they patrol our roads. Return them safely to their wives and let them always know... Those of us behind the mic worry night and day. They are the reason that I kneel to pray. Lesia Andera