From Catastrophes to Complaints, Dispatchers Hear All
For maybe the millionth time, Pam Vick answered the 911 line with calm, crisp precision. Then she heard a familiar voice -- her 13-year-old daughter's.
"She said, 'There's someone breaking into our house!'" Vick remembered, reciting a mental transcript of the nearly two-decades-old call. "He literally broke the storm door and was rattling the handle."
Armed only with an archer's arrow, the girl prepared to defend herself. Vick dispatched the call, a home invasion in progress.
The response? Silence -- not even the crackle and hiss of a jostled microphone. She repeated the address, waited and heard nothing. The third time, Vick grew frantic. She said the home being broken into was hers, and her young daughter was inside.
"They got him," Vick said, explaining that sheriff's deputies had rushed to the house. "I was just scared for my daughter."
Vick has been a 911 dispatcher for nearly 25 years and is now a shift supervisor at the Wilson County Emergency Communications Center. She's sent first responders to the scenes of hurricanes, tornadoes, shootings, fires, fights, suicide attempts, burglaries and just about any other emergency imaginable.
"It is a continuous learning experience," she said. "When you pick up that phone, you never know what's on the other end."
County leaders are honoring Vick and her colleagues with a weeklong salute to 911 dispatchers that continues through April 20. The Wilson County Board of Commissioners issued a proclamation in honor of Public Safety Telecommunicators' Week at their April 8 meeting.
93,000 CALLS IN 2012
Wilson County has 25 telecommunicators who work 12-hour shifts, rotating from days to nights every two weeks. In 2012, the dispatchers answered about 93,000 calls to 911 and processed more than 280,000 incoming and outgoing calls to public safety and non-emergency lines.
"I can remember years ago working night shift and you'd kind of sit there waiting for the phone to ring," said Brenda Womble, emergency communications center director. "They don't get a lot of quiet time anymore."
Many dispatchers say their job is a calling -- their purpose in life is to direct lifesaving help to those in need with professionalism and patience.
"Once I did apply and started out as a telecommunicator, I would say it was an answer to prayer," Womble said. "I really do enjoy it, and we have a lot of employees who have some longevity with us. That shows that they're dedicated to the job."
The communications center, located in the Wilson County Emergency Services Complex on Glendale Drive, is a large room of desks arranged in pods separated by circular shelves filled with binders and books.
A large computer monitor dominates each workspace. On the wall, four monitors display live and recorded feeds from the city of Wilson's 37 surveillance cameras.
New dispatchers can be hired with no experience and will quickly be immersed in the emergency communications culture. Womble said the new hire training process takes an average of six to nine months.
"Once they're on the job, then they've got to pick up their speed to be able to catch up," she said.
There's plenty to learn -- telecommunicators must be certified in emergency medical dispatch and emergency fire dispatch and demonstrate proficiency in accessing the Division of Criminal Information and National Criminal Information Center databases.
They dispatch by voice and text, with detailed descriptions of each call entered into the computer-aided dispatch system. Police, paramedics, firefighters and other first responders can access updated call details as they rush to the scene.
As technology advances, dispatchers have an easier time finding the location of an emergency when the caller is lost or unresponsive. Landline calls automatically display location information, Womble said, and for cellphone calls, telecommunicators can isolate a perimeter around the phone's location.
PRANKS, POWER OUTAGES
Not every caller has a valid emergency. Scott Watson, who's worked at the communications center for six years, said 911 dispatchers hear it all.
"They call when the cable's out, they call to ask, 'What time does the parade start?,'" he said. "If they don't know who else to call, they'll call 911."
Womble said widespread power outages often result in a flood of 911 calls.
"One of our heaviest is when their power's out," she said. "Utilities is so overwhelmed they can't answer all the phones, so they keep calling us back. People used to call us and tell us their cable's out."
Dispatchers said some callers might have different perspectives on what constitutes an emergency. Vick remembers when a wheelchair-bound woman called 911 because a stray cat had gotten inside her home.
"You have some that are regular callers," Womble said. "We can tell when school's out."
Prank calls may prompt a visit from the police and a charge of misuse of 911 -- a Class 3 misdemeanor. But dispatchers usually try to help confused callers with somewhat unorthodox requests.
"We're customer service first," Vick said. "Do we get angry? Oh, yes. We have to get up and take a break sometimes."
Every call that's not a legitimate emergency could prevent a dispatcher from helping someone at serious risk, Womble said.
Public Safety Telecommunicators' Week is largely a symbolic designation -- commissioners "encourage the community to observe this week with appropriate programs, ceremonies and activities," the resolution states -- but dispatchers appreciate that commissioners have recognized their skill and dedication.
"I like helping people," Watson said. "You learn new stuff every day."
Vick said the times when telecommunicators can help render lifesaving aid are what makes the job rewarding.
"When something turns out pretty good, it makes you happy. When it's bad, it's bad," she said. ""When you have someone who's in cardiac arrest and you get someone there and save them, it's things like that."
corey@wilsontimes.com -- 265-7821
Copyright 2013 - The Wilson Daily Times, N.C.
