WOW!!  Sunshine, no wind, no rain; and Carla is working.  She will be off soon and start playing in the dirt.

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Chapter 7

A “Quiet” Tuesday Night

When I started with the Police Department our Matrons dispatched us in addition to their many other duties.

The Fire Department, in a building added onto the City Hall, had a dispatch area, but it was not manned unless there was a call for service.  If they received a call for ambulance or fires they left a fire fighter at the dispatch area to man the radio and to call in extra personnel if necessary – and in case there were more calls for service.

They both worked, but neither center was efficient; for the police it could be dangerous if the Matron (or officer on the weekend) became distracted during a critical call.

I don’t have the exact date, yet, but sometime in the late 1960’s or early 1970’s Oregon Legislature passed a law stating that all emergency services – law enforcement, fire and ambulance serves - would have a 9-1-1 Call Center.  They also levied a tax on local phone bills to help pay for the planning, purchase of equipment and operation of a 9-1-1 Center.

Until the entity controlling the emergency service began that process they were to place the money in a special account to be used only for that purpose.

In the mid-1970’s the City of The Dalles did develop a center and the phone company set up a 9-1-1 call process on the local numbers. 

The Center handled the Police, Fire Department and Ambulance which was part of the Fire Department.  There was an additional Fire Department for the immediate areas outside of the city called Wasco Rural.

For years they had contracted with the city to work together with the city to handle fires in both the city and those areas Wasco Rural was responsible for; they shared the same building and equipment; it was beneficial for both agencies.

The funding received by the state was not sufficient, never has been, to completely plan, set up, staff and operate a 9-1-1 center, but it did help offset the costs.

The City Manager installed a 9-1-1 Center in the space that had been used by the Fire Department to handle calls and the radio.

Staffing, of course was an issue, it is expensive.  To prepare for the staffing he hired dispatchers to train on our radio system in our office.

The Matrons no longer were required to answer the radio or phones, just do their paperwork and other duties which kept them busy.

The Fire Department continued staffing their phone and radio as they had been.

I am not sure when the dispatchers trained for the fire department side of dispatching, but when the system was up and running they started dispatching for all of us.

The 9-1-1 center handled all the regular phone lines for both the police and fire (the ones published in the phone book for service, if they didn’t need an officer dispatched but needed to talk to someone in the office they would transfer the call) as well as all 9-1-1 calls.  They dispatched us on both emergency and non-emergency calls.

Since we frequently had people come in to the Police Department needing an officer at all hours, it was felt we needed to have the Police Office staffed 24 hours a day, so we continued with the matrons and having officers sit the desk when they were off; in an emergency we could shut the office for the officer to respond and help, and then return when he was no longer needed at the scene.

However, since the Fire Department had been using fire fighters to man the radio and phone and were not used in the field, the City laid off three firemen.  They did give them the option of becoming dispatchers if they wanted.  Either way they would be on the list to call back when there were any vacancies.

Obviously, the firemen were not thrilled about that option.  We were a bit concerned because we knew that their hearts wouldn’t be in it and that if a fire or ambulance call came in they would disregard our needs.

It turned out okay.  While not enthused the firemen did their job, some were better than others, but once they settled in it worked.

Joe, one of these men, in particular, was a very good dispatcher.  He covered us well and after just a short while he was able to anticipate our needs as we responded to calls or made traffic stops.

He was so good he became their chief training officer for dispatching, when a vacancy came open in the fire department and it was his turn to go back to being a fireman, we were happy for him, but were also saddened since he had been one of the best we ever had.

The 9-1-1 center handled all the regular phone lines for both the police and fire (the ones published in the phone book for service) as well as all 9-1-1 calls.  They dispatched us on both emergency and non-emergency calls.

Thus our story, about that quiet night, begins.

He had been training a new dispatcher, Margaret, for about a month and felt that he could leave her by herself in the center to see how she would do.

When I came to work that day at 1530 hours, I was on Swing Shift, he told the Sargent and me that later in the evening, when things had quieted down, he was going to leave her on her own. 

It was just the two of us on duty and Tuesday evenings were normally very slow.  It would be a good time for her to solo.

Now she wouldn’t become completely alone, he would be coming over to the police department so he would be away from her but still listening to her on the radio – he had a portable to hear any fire calls – but if there was an emergency there he would also hear the horn the notified the firemen there was an emergency.

This wasn’t the first time he had done this and it had worked well in the past.  He was only a minute or so away from the center.

Margaret was sharp.  She had some physical limitations, but that didn’t affect her skills and she seemed to be coming along well, so neither the Sergeant nor I was concerned about Joe’s decision.

About 2200 that night it was like the whole town had gone to bed, or at least most of them.  The bars had a few patrons, there were few cars on the road and the radio was silent.

I saw the lone county deputy as he was leaving the Sheriff’s Office and talked to him a bit.  He was heading out to Rowena, a small community about 9 miles west of The Dalles, he thought he would take the old road instead of the freeway so he could check out a couple of places in between.

I decided to start checking businesses and headed out west to West 6^th street.  I was spot lighting the front of the businesses.

Among those businesses was a laundro-mat.  It was back from the sidewalk a bit with a small parking lot in front; sandwiched in between two building that were right on the sidewalk.

As I was passing those buildings, I saw a man running out to a car.  About half a block up, was a service station, (now a bank)I quickly went to it and then parked behind the pumps with all lights off.

I had barely turned my lights off when he came barreling out of the parking lot, squirreling tires and fishtailing, coming toward me. 

He was driving a 1959 Ford Station wagon, with the wood grain siding (built like a small tank,) and he was moving – with no lights on the car.

The property I was on is a triangle.  On the north is West 6^th St., on the west side is Cherry Heights Rd; North east to the south west is Chenoweth Rd – which intersects with Cherry Heights Rd. at 8^th St.

As he turned southwest, onto Chenoweth Rd. I hit my overhead lights and siren and got in behind him.  He didn’t stop; he sped up, running the stop sign at Cherry Heights.

May adrenaline was already pumping from seeing him run to the car, I knew something was wrong.  When I hit the lights and siren the adrenaline was in overdrive – which for almost every officer is normal, especially when initiating a chase.

On top of that, this was my first high speed chase.  I knew what to do, I had been told by my training officer, but at the time there was no driving courses offered to us in practicing chases – or any courses for driving as a police officer for that matter, so I was flying by the seat of my pants.

I quickly got on the radio and said, “I am in pursuit.”

Margaret replied, “10-4, 2210.”  Acknowledging my transmission and ending with the time.

He turned east bound on 9^th St.  I got close enough to him to read his license plate.

I radioed, “Give me a 10-28 and 10-29” on that plate.

Margaret replied, “10-4, 2211.”  Like nothing was happening.

Honestly, I started panicking a bit.  As I was chasing him he had started heading towards oncoming traffic, just enough so the drivers had to swerve out of his way, then over corrected and started heading towards me – he knew what he was doing.

Fortunately, they were going slow enough that they didn’t get close to me.

And, there was my lifeline, the only line I had between me and the rest of the world, and I might of well had just said I was going to lunch. 

As I am writing I can still feel my heart rate going up and my breathing speeding up – at the time I figure she had no idea what was happening.

I was a ‘bit’ concerned!

I had no idea where the sergeant was, (he told me later he stayed off the radio so he knew where I was and he was heading my way) I knew the deputy was probably 5 or 6 miles in the opposite direction, I felt all alone out there.

I radioed, “We are doing 60 miles per hour and he just blew through the stop sign at Trevitt” a major north south intersection.  Fortunately there was no cross traffic.

About then I heard Joe come on the radio.  He replied “10-4” and then gave me the registration information, a local car with no wants or warrants.

When Joe came on the radio it was like he had reached through, the system, placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “I have your back, I am with you.”

We under estimate and under value the dispatchers.

The adrenaline was still there, but the apprehension was gone, I knew that he did have my back.  I was able to concentrate more on what was happening in front of me and less on backup; wondering why he was running.

I continued radioing my direction of travel and speed.

He ran through the stop sign at Union St, a major north south intersection at about 60 miles per hour, again no cross-traffic.

He ran through the stop sign at Court, 9^th St becomes a dead-end – with a house across the street from the intersection. 

He turned north on Court, fishtailed onto the house’s yard and wiped out their porch.  I thought it was over and got ready to say that, when off he sped, north on Court.

Speeding down Court St, he crosses 4^th St, then 3^rd St then 2^nd.  These are all normally heavily traveled streets, fortunately there was no traffic in the intersection – it was a quiet night, remember?

He then reaches 1^st St.  A dead end.  He had to either stop, turn right or left.  At the time the middle of 1^st St. was railroad tracks.  East bound on the south side, west bound on the north.

Through the years many cars (usually driven by drunk drivers) would make the mistake of turning too quickly and ending up high centered on the tracks.  We always had to have them towed off, stopping all railway traffic until they were off.

He turned right, right onto the tracks.  I was getting ready to radio that he was stopped – but he powered on through to the next intersection and fishtailed onto it, Washington St.

He hit a parked car as he tried to regain control, and then off he went again, south bound.  There is a traffic signal light at 2^nd St.; there were a couple of cars stopped at the red light.

He went around them and then through the red light almost hitting a car.  He then went to 3^rd St., went through the red light and then turned left – heading east, out of town.

He floor boarded it as he went, now we were in the 90 mph range.  Just in case you think I was going through those same intersection at his speed, I wasn’t I would slow down enough to stop if necessary, before proceeding on.

We continued east until we hit the intersection of Hwy 197 when he headed south.  He’s speeds were in the 90’s; then, he started to slow down as slow as 45 mph.

I knew what he was trying to get me to do, try and swing in front of him to force him off the road.  I knew better than that, first he was driving a tank and I had a lightly built Ford Torino (we had downsized our cars to help with gas mileage since gas had gone up so high) and he would have been able to force ME off the road, easily.

Second, I knew that just wasn’t a good idea.  We were on the open road, I had an almost full gas tank, and I would just let him run until he had to stop – giving out information as we went; waiting for back up to arrive.

I radioed what he was doing and that I was just going to stay behind him.

We got to the top of Auction Yard hill, on 197, and Joe told me I would be losing him on city frequency and to switch over to county frequency, using the Flag Point transmitter.

Our radios had four frequencies, one was ours and the others were the county’s.  That way we could communicate directly with them rather than having the dispatchers relaying information.

I switched over.

Our quiet Tuesday, already, wasn’t, and it was just getting started.

Copyright November 8, 2017 Art Labrousse

To be continued:

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Mathew 28:19-20  KJV  “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost:

²⁰ Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.”

I was once asked if I sometimes pray for ‘super human’ type strength in situations.

I don’t.  I may say a quick prayer of guide me, help me, but I don’t need ‘super human’ strength. 

I have learned that God has His hands on my life and He will guide me through those difficult times.  

No, didn’t think, as the chase began, to ask God to guide me, I was just certain He was.

“and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.”

Later, Art (-: