Emergency Dispatchers are in Short Supply
One morning last September, Newport News Dispatch Supervisor Fran Mangum answered a call from a frantic young woman parked in a Burger King parking lot.
The woman, 24-year-old Daylena St. John, was headed to Bon Secours Mary Immaculate Hospital with her fiance and children because she was about to go into labor. They pulled into the parking lot when she felt that the baby was coming fast. She dialed 911 just before dawn seeking assistance and an ambulance.
"I feel like I'm going into labor," St. John told Mangum. "I'm with my kids. I'm pulling into this Burger King. I feel like the baby's coming out."
From her desk in the basement of Newport News City Hall, Mangum quickly dispatched paramedics to the Burger King on J. Clyde Morris Boulevard, but she also prepared to help St. John deliver the baby.
"Is there another adult with you?" Mangum calmly asked St. John, her words captured on the 911 recording.
"Yes," St. John said as she passed her cell phone to her fiance, Efrem Sturdwell.
"Sir, are you going to be able to help with the delivery?" Mangum asked.
"Yes," Sturdwell replied.
"Can you get her to the back seat?" Mangum said.
For the remainder of the call, the veteran 911 operator walked a nervous Sturdwell step-by-step through delivering a baby. The end result was the birth of a baby boy, Efrem Sturdwell Jr.
A typical call
For Mangum, the nine-minute exchange is typical of the calls she and her colleagues receive during a 12-hour shift as 911 dispatchers. These men and women play a critical role in the region's emergency response -- dispatching emergency personnel and moderating life-threatening situations as they unfold.
A baby delivery call can segue into a drowning and that call can be followed up by a shooting, which are all events dispatchers must be prepared to assist with, Mangum said.
"We are the first responders," said Mangum, who has worked as a dispatcher for 23 years. "Knowing this and everything that we do can be a lot for some people to handle. I've seen a lot of people come and go over the years."
Nationally, there is a shortage of emergency dispatchers due to high turnover, said Terry Hall, first vice president of the Association of Public-Safety Communications Officials.
He said the profession experiences a 25 percent turnover every five years.
"Ninety-seven percent of people who start this career will not retire in it, while 97 percent of people working in law enforcement and fire will," Hall said. "Only 50 percent of the people make it through the first year."
Hall, who is also chief of emergency communications for the York, Poquoson, Williamsburg Regional Communications Center, said stress, in addition to the lack of tools and recognition, are among the reasons dispatchers leave the profession.
He said dispatch centers across the Peninsula are dealing with vacancies.
Local dispatchers say the pressures of the job are among the many reasons they see colleagues leave.
Hampton training instructor and assistant supervisor Kimberley Bryan said people often quit after finding out how complex the job duties can be. She said employees have to be able to field emergency calls, enter information about the event into a computer, radio emergency personnel and sometimes offer medical instructions over the phone.
"You definitely have to be able to multi-task," Bryan said.
Long hours
Maj. Jean Troutman of the Hampton Police Department said the long hours are another reason dispatchers leave.
"You're working nights, weekends, holidays and inclement weather," she said. "These types of hours can be challenging for young families."
And knowing that your job performance can determine whether a person lives or dies is often a heavy burden for people to bear.
The dispatchers who remain in the field say they find coping mechanisms to get through the tough calls.
Newport News Dispatcher Christina Brooks said she found that working out helps.
Brooks said she did that last year after a call from a man who confessed he shot and killed his wife in front of his daughters.
"It was my first confession and it really bothered me," she said. "You never become numb to things that affect children."
She said those feelings resurfaced last month when she had to testify about the call during the man's trial, which is another part of the job.
Mangum, who has fielded calls for fatal house fires and officer related shootings, said she's just learned to leave work at work.
"You realize your level of stress does not amount to what the callers going through," she said.
Hampton is currently looking to hire new 911 dispatchers. Troutman said she plans to allow potential new hires to shadow a 911 dispatcher before accepting the job.
Hall said he offers a similar orientation program for people who are hoping to become dispatchers in York County.
"We want them to know exactly what they're getting into," he said.
The rewards
In some localities, dispatchers earn between $29,000 and $48,000 annually.
The people who choose to make dispatching a career say the ability to help people keeps them coming back.
York Dispatcher Shannon Houston recalls an event from her first year on the job -- helping a 19-year-old boy revive his 17-year-old brother who had collapsed.
"I'm helping people every day, which is why I love my job," said Houston, who has been a dispatcher for seven years.
Mangum agrees, but said she also loves that each day of her job is different.
"I've applied to other jobs, but I've never found anything else that's excited me like this," she said. "You sort of become an adrenaline junkie working this job."
Other than being a doctor, she said, no other job would allow her to deliver a baby.
"Those are the fun calls," Mangum said.
Copyright 2012 - Daily Press, Newport News, Va.
McClatchy-Tribune News Service