Beautiful day today in our neck of the woods.  Carla got to burn most of her debris and will finish it tomorrow. 

Transplanting will get started tomorrow in preparation to get them growing strong so she can plant what she wants and then gives away the rest.

My story today is about dispatchers.  I believe every ‘cop’ will agree with what I say, and for those that have never had to depend on someone while in a crisis mode, you will have a better understanding of how important a dispatcher’s role in in Law Enforcement.

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Psalm 4:1  Hear me when I call, O God of my righteousness: thou hast enlarged me when I was in distress; have mercy upon me, and hear my prayer.

Every Christian will say the most important communication in our lives is with God.  Without that communication, without that time of prayer and talking with God we can place ourselves in great danger. 

We rest assured that He is always listening and no matter our circumstances, He is with us.  Speaking to God, especially in times of trouble, allows the Holy Spirit to place His hand upon our shoulder and let us know He is there and with us, His hand is a comforting assurance and gives us courage and confidence of making it through the situation.

Prayer is our life line.

To a police officer, that communication is vital.  But another form of communication is also critical and can make the difference between life and death.

The dispatcher on the other end of the radio is every Police Officer’s life line. 

They are the unsung heroes of the Law Enforcement community.

They are always there, ready to take the 9-1-1 calls; ready to comfort a victim; give instructions on giving emergency care until the ambulance arrives; hovering over the radio like a mother hen hovers over her chicks when the officer comes on the radio and answers a call, stops a vehicle, calls for assistance.

A good dispatcher can make all the difference in critical incidents and they can give encouragement to the officer who needs that hand on his shoulder, telling him it will be okay.

I won’t go into the evolution of communications in Law Enforcement, today.  I will show how important that person on the other end of the microphone is with this story.

We had recently instituted a 9-1-1 call and dispatch center in the city.  The center handled all calls for the police and fire department. 

One of the best dispatchers of all time for us, was assigned when the call center became functional and replaced three firemen who used to man the radio when units were dispatched.  The lower three were laid off as firemen and given the opportunity to work as a dispatcher.

Not always were they happy about it and one of them had an attitude that most officers wanted to shake him a couple of times to get his attention – but even he, once he settled in and realized how important it was, did a decent job.

The best, Joe, was used as a training officer.  He was training a new employee and that night he told the Sergeant and me (the only two on the road that night) that he would be letting her dispatch on her own, he would be in our office monitoring the radio, but she was on her own as far as she was concerned.

Our office was in the same building, but a few doors and several feet separated the two offices.

She was a young woman.  She had survived polio as a child and had several physical impairments.  She was pleasant and serious about doing the best job she could.

That first night on her own was a Swing Shift on a Tuesday night.  Usually Tuesdays were very quiet,

so it wasn’t a bad idea to let her feel what it was like to be the only dispatcher on duty.

That night was quiet.  So, quiet that there was hardly any traffic and no calls.  I started doing checks on buildings and hitting our small business areas, to show the flag.

As I drove through one area I saw a man running from a laundry mat into their parking lot.  The laundry set back a bit from the street with the parking lot in front and two stores on either side.

Now, why would a person be running from the laundromat that time of night?

I drove half a block to where a service station was, turned off my lights and watched to see what was happening.  A 1959 Ford Station wagon came boiling out of the parking lot and then turned towards me; lights off.

He made a left turn onto the cross street, I hit the lights and the chase was on.  I had never been in a high speed chase, as a passenger or a driver.  New experience - and with the lights and sirens and the speed we were going on city streets the adrenaline started pumping in overdrive.

I radioed I was in a chase and the speed and direction we were going in, I heard a calm voice saying ‘10-4.’

I got close enough to read and call the plate in for check for warrants/theft and registration.  I hear a calm voice saying ‘10-4.’

My voice was far from that calm. 

The driver still didn’t have his lights on and anytime we had a car come at us he would go into their lane – they would swerve to the right, over correct and come right at me as I was going behind him.

And my thoughts were: she has NO IDEA WHAT IS HAPPENING!

So, I am driving down city streets at over 50 mph, first chase, and adrenaline already pumping; now, I have a dispatcher who hasn’t the slightest idea what is going on.

I felt I was in way over my head and in deep trouble.

Then Joe came on the line.  It was like he had reached over the frequency, put his hand on my shoulder and told me I would be fine.

I was no longer in panic mode.  My training and knowledge, along with what little experience I had in these kind of situations took over.

We blew through town, several times he lost control, hitting parked cars, one time hitting a house that was at the end of the street (dead-end) and each time I thought he was down – he righted it and away he went, lights still out.

That car was like a tank.  Nothing was stopping it – he even drove down a street with railroad tracks in the middle - on the tracks.  We often have drunks misjudge and get struck on those tracks, but he just barreled on through to the next block and was back on a full street hitting a couple of parked cars as he got back in control.

Through stop signs, through red lights we went, fortunately it was a quiet night, very little traffic, although anytime he could he would aim at the oncoming cars to distract them and put me in danger.

I thought to myself, he has done this before – he was obviously more experienced at this than I was.

We headed out of town.  He slowed way down.  I figured he wanted me to try and pass him and force him over – no chance, I was driving a Ford Torino, a mid-sized light car (it was during the gas crisis of the 1970’s and we went to smaller, more fuel efficient cars) and he was driving this tank.  It would have been like a jeep trying to stop a tank, I just stayed behind and radioed info into the dispatch center.

As we headed up Auction Yard Hill – named because, yes, it had an auction yard on it, on the state highway I would soon be out of radio range.

Joe radioed to turn the radio over to County (we had recently purchased radios where we could transmit and receive four frequencies the three of them were county’s since they had a local transmitter and two repeaters.)

I did so.  When I got over there Joe told me that they had received a call from a lady in the laundromat.  The driver of the car ‘your cop is chasing’ tried to rape her.  He had notified the Detective Sergeant and she would be coming in to meet with him.

You always wonder why these idiots run – there has to be a reason and we always figure it is the worst as most of the time it is, now, I knew.

The problem was I was virtually all alone.  I had talked with the lone county deputy about 10 minutes before the chase started and knew he was going in the opposite direction to check on a small community about 9 miles from the city. 

The Sergeant hadn’t come on the radio.  He told me afterwards that he didn’t want to interfere with my transmissions, but he was heading my way.  After Joe told me to go to the county frequency he radioed into the center.

When I didn’t try to pass him he stepped on it and we were going over 90 mph on the highway.  He still didn’t have his lights on.  Fortunately we didn’t encounter any on-coming traffic.

About 5 miles out he makes a sudden right turn onto a dirt road, his car lifted up on two tires and it looked like he was going to roll over – I was about to radio for an ambulance, when he righted the car and off he went.

I radioed that we had gong onto a dirt road about five miles out.  While I traveled the highway often in route to visit family and friends, I had not paid attention to the names of cross roads, so I couldn’t give it a name.

However, it is named Five Mile Road and the deputy (actually two the one Klickitat deputy on duty – Washington State was listening) both deputies knew the road and heading my way to help.

We went down the dirt road, he went around a corner and as I went around, he was sliding cross ways in the road.  I tried doing it on purpose and wasn’t doing too bad, until my back wheels went off the road.

My car whipped around and I was heading down a steep ravine, all I could think of was, “Lord, here I come.”

I made it safely to the bottom, got out of the car and ran back up the hill – car was still there, but the driver was long gone.

I went back down to the car – the ravine was only about 30 feet deep, so that could have been a lot worse, many in that area were several hundred – but couldn’t radio out, I was in a dead spot.

I saw a farm house with lights on about a half mile down the road so ran over to it.

I hammered on the door, out of breath and a young lady answered.  I think I ‘asked’ if I could use her phone and quickly told her I need to call dispatch.  She let me in.

I called dispatch the new dispatcher answered; I said, this is Officer Labrousse, and in between breaths gave her a run-down where the vehicle and I was.  I asked her if she had all that, she said yes. Then,

“Who is this?”

I was able to drive the car back to the office.  We didn’t locate the suspect that night, but he came in the next day with his attorney and turned himself in.  I had the privilege of lodging him in the County Jail on a myriad of charges.

I asked Joe if she had any idea what had been going on, he said yes, even better than he did at first since he lost part of the communication going from our office to dispatch.

I am glad I talked with him first, because, frankly I wasn’t real happy.  However, now knowing she had remained calm ON PURPOSE, I thanked her and asked how she could remain that calm.

Her answer, ‘I wouldn’t do you any good if I didn’t.’

From that day, until the day she went to another agency in the valley, she was first my second and then when Joe got his job back as a Fireman, my favorite dispatcher.

She was good.

That was my first experience that I KNEW the dispatcher made a real difference, but I have been reminded many times over through the years.

She was better than most.  But, with few exceptions they all maintained a professional attitude and did a very good job.

It is hard to remain calm when things are seemingly out of hand for citizens and they have to calm them, dispatch the proper agency and then keep track of all the other units that are on the air.

The dispatchers are a Police Officer’s guarding angels, and they treat us that way, calmly waiting on edge until we can tell them we are okay.

They have our backs.

But the Holy Spirit is with us, 24 hours a day, every day of our lives wherever we are and whatever our circumstance.  Always prepared to put His hand on our shoulder and tell us He has our back, He is there for us.

When He dispatches us, He has our backs!

Later, Art (-: