Police officers receive a variety of phone calls. However, some calls are unexpected and leave lasting impressions on not only the victims but the officers as well.
Theater Balcony That Will Always Haunt Her Dreams
“I was a cop for about 20 years. The call that stuck with me wasn’t the goriest or even the most disturbing scene I’ve been at. But one where I felt helpless.
My husband and I both work for the same department. He was giving me a ride to lunch when a call of a suicidal teenager went out. She was on the second tier balcony of a major performing arts facility, threatening to jump. This is high up, and a jump would severely injure, if not kill, for certain. Instead of going to lunch, we went to the call.
I had two officers on the ground level negotiating with her for about 45 minutes. She edged further over the slanted balcony overhang every few minutes. She flipped out when uniform (my husband) came anywhere near her on her level, but being in plain clothes, she didn’t realize I was a cop. Hubby and another officer hid around the corner out of her sight. I was able to get about 15 feet away and just sit with her talking. It was upsetting to see how hopeless this young woman was. Every so often, I would inch closer. She even responded: ‘You are getting alarmingly close.’ I was so afraid she was going to jump because I was getting closer to her but desperately needed to get within reach if she tried.
Even the negotiators were whispering to each other that she’s going to jump. She was just getting up her nerve. By this point, I was about five feet away from her. We could see that she had made the commitment to fling herself over and she slid ever closer to the bottom edge of the downward slant. The rest of the time she could scoot herself back from the ledge, now she physically couldn’t and she was going over. I made the decision to approach her. I had to reach an awkward angle to grab her by the coat, and once I had a grip I heaved backward with a strength I didn’t know I had. She was much heavier than me, and I feared she would drag me over. Her buttons were popping off her coat as I struggled to pull her back. Thankfully, my husband and the other officer nearby were able to help pull her to safety.
She was loaded on a medic stretcher for transport to the hospital. I was hugging her, pleading that she does not give up. That she needed to find the right path to defeat her depression. That she was worth it. We were both crying.
I thought about this call all the time for a long time. It was the first time I thought about getting some help as a result of my job. I’m not sure why this call, in particular, stuck with me so.
She called me about a month later. She thanked me for saving her. Told me she had received a proper diagnosis and was working toward getting well. She also apologized for putting all of us officers through that. It was touching.”
Losing A Colleague?
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“I was a uniformed officer for three years and a detective for another three years before I quit the force.
I saw many things that I could have done without, but one, in particular, took place during a normal response to 911 as a uniformed officer. A friend, who worked on my shift, happened upon a couple of thieves at a railway line, who managed to stop a passing train and then proceeded to steal cargo from one of the carts. He started chasing them, and as he caught one, the guy turned around and stabbed him in the shoulder and neck downwards, causing him to bleed out. He died on his way to the hospital. He managed to draw and shoot the suspect dead as well.
What bothered me most about this, apart from the fact that a friend and colleague lost his life, was that we always worked together on the same vehicle, but on this particular day, we were performing special duties and were placed in particular vehicles by the commander. I heard his distress call on the radio, and I was about five minutes away, but by the time I got there, I found the dead suspect and was told that he had been rushed to the hospital. I later got the call that he had passed away.”
“On The Phone With Somebody Who’s Possibly In Their Last Few Moments”
“I have had a couple of calls that have shaken me up.
My first suicidal caller was the first call that ever shook me up. He called 911 and was wanting to know if taking a large amount of Seroquel would kill him. He wouldn’t give me any information like address, name or anything like that so that I could get him help. I had just got out on my own and I think the panic of trying to deal with that on 911 was part of the reason that was so memorable.
Another was a burglary in progress, with a female, and I could hear the person banging around downstairs. I work for a small municipality in the Oklahoma City metro area, and the call was inside of Oklahoma City, so I transferred her and continued listening in on the call. I was impressed with how well she was staying calm with the situation. Then she remembered that her daughter was in the other room and lost her composure.
Another call that was just barely outside of my city came to me initially the other night, and the lady said that her husband had been shot in the garage and the person came into her house. The shooter ended up fleeing from the house inside of Oklahoma City, got in a pursuit with a unit from another small local municipality, and ended up crashing into mine.
One I lost sleep over, was a girl that came home to find her fiancé had hung himself with an extension cord. She was hysterical.
I hate these sorts of calls, not because of their high priority but because all you can do is tell people that help is on the way. It feels like such an empty gesture to tell people that think they may have lost a loved one or are about to be killed themselves that you have people on their way and do your best to keep them calm and give you information. Every first responder has a deep seeded urge to help people in their most desperate moments and its the hardest on call takers sometimes when we have to subdue that urge. There is nothing worse than knowing that you may be on the phone with somebody in their last few moments as they plea for you to send help.”
Talk About A Memorable First Day
“First day on the road out of the academy – I had just signed on duty and swung by dispatch to pick up some paperwork and say hey to everyone (I worked in dispatch for a while before I went to the road). They were slammed, so I sat down to grab a 911 call that had been waiting about 30 seconds. I answered and in the calmest voice, a male gave me his address and stated that he was getting ready to kill himself and he wanted us to know where he was so we would have the mess cleaned up before his mother got off work. I immediately tried to talk to him but again, in the calmest voice, he responded: ‘Sir, with all due respect, I’ve made up my mind, I’m not calling for help; I just don’t want my mother to find me. My body will be on the back porch.’ And just like that, I heard a ‘BANG!’ on the phone.
At this point, I had already saved the call and our county dispatch was dispatching it as I hung up. It happened to be about five miles from dispatch and in my region. I hadn’t partnered up with my training officer at this point since I hadn’t made it roll call yet. I advised my lieutenant of my position and the position of the call, and he told me to go ahead and run emergency response and advise what we had.
About that time I was sprinting out of dispatch and jumping in my patrol car. It seemed like time began to slow down, I didn’t expect my first call to be like this, let alone responding to it alone. Everything I had heard at the academy started running through my head and I had already started processing the scene in my head and what I was going to do when I arrived before I even was out of dispatch’s parking lot. I got on the radio and informed dispatch that I was en route to address and asked my training officer what his position was. He was my next closest unit and was about seven minutes behind me. I pulled up on the scene and it was a little foggy. I unassed the car and rounded the corner of the house and saw a body lying on the back deck with a weapon on the ground. I informed dispatch that I had located the body and asked for an ETA on paramedics. They were about five minutes out. I advised dispatch to have them roll on in instead of staging. I moved in closer to the body to secure the weapon and check his vitals. That’s when I realized in an attempt for him to not leave as much of a ‘mess’, he had put a burlap sack over his head before shooting himself. I froze for a minute staring at him, I could hear EMS in the distance and my training officer arriving, but I couldn’t stop staring and it seemed like everything froze for a minute.”
He Had To Tell Them The Devastating News
“Worst call I went to was a 9-year-old having an asthma attack.
I was right on top of the area when the call came out – I had responded as a backup on a previous call. I took the call because it would be easy, and I didn’t have any calls holding in my beat. All I would have to do is show up and wait for the fire department and the ambulance, and let them do their medical thing while I get basic info from the caretaker. I get the call, and it’s in section 8 housing, I was unfamiliar with the area because it was nowhere near my beat. The mother and aunt were screaming. I ran upstairs alone and saw the 9-year-old seizing. I didn’t know what to do other than try to hold him securely so he didn’t get hurt. The seizure lasted a minute at most, and it was over, but he wasn’t breathing.
I attempted CPR for about two minutes when backup arrived. This particular section 8 housing, I later learned, was a violent crime area. When I backed out and let the fire department take over, there were about 70 people gathered outside this apartment. I did my best to manage emotions because no one likes it when a child is involved. I follow the child to the hospital, but just as I make contact with the fire department, the ambulance driver lets me know the child is gone.
Our city does not pronounce children dead at the scene; we take them to the hospital working the entire time no matter what. But now I realize it’s my call, and I have to inform the family once we get to the hospital.
The family consisted of an entourage of at least 20 people, some of which were causing fights. I am an emotional guy, so I’m already crying in my patrol car like a little girl just at the thought of how am I going to tell them and the fact this child just died and I couldn’t save him. They are all following the ambulance thinking the medical team is going to save him, but don’t realize he’s already gone. When we get to the hospital, the doctor comes out and informs me so I need to get the mother. I try to get her alone but it’s a no-go, the entire family insists on being there. I’m struggling to find the words start to get a little teary-eyed and the mother reads my face and just collapses. I still have to contact homicide and inform them of the situation due to the circumstances. The family starts fighting with each other over who is at fault for the reason for the asthma attack. Luckily, hospital security was there to diffuse, and no arrests were made. I’ve never heard of a person dying from asthma if they had a breathing treatment, which was the case here. The family did everything right, but he still passed. It has stuck with me and this is the first time I’ve told the full story on this. I was trying to be helpful to the zone I was in because they were slammed with calls. I figured I would knock this call out so they could handle the more serious calls. I wish I had never taken this call.”
Tragedy In The Pool?
“It was a warm summer Sunday and I was going in to work the overnight shift. My wife and I had some friends over that afternoon to visit and before I left, I sat in my patrol car holding my 8-month-old daughter at the steering wheel. We all laughed and said goodbye. I drove to my zone, and about 15 minutes before I was assigned to check in, a call went out of a drowned child. I was close, so I responded. I was first to the scene and discovered a 3-year-old child lying unconscious on the couch, soaking wet. The 19-year-old mother had found him at the bottom of the swimming pool. I tossed the coffee table to the side, dragged him onto the floor and began CPR.
I could tell from the temperature of the small child’s body that it wasn’t going to end with him coughing himself awake. The mother was hysterical and screaming at me, ordering me to save her baby. I did everything exactly as I was trained, with machine-like efficiency. I have been through the CPR class at least five or six times and have real-world practical experience. As the compressions continued, I had the sinking feeling that I was working a lost cause. I gave no outward sign. My face remained stoic. Hopeful?
The fire department eventually arrived and scooped the boy up. I hadn’t even walked back to my car yet and the doubt and guilt started creeping in. ‘You could have done more.’ ‘You should have driven here faster.’ ‘You should have left for work earlier, instead of spending time with your family.’ ‘You could have saved him.’ I followed the rescue unit to the hospital and I began to shake and cry. I had to pull over to the side of the road. I called my wife on the phone and all I could choke out between the sobs was, ‘I did everything I could. I swear.’ I begged her to believe me. She consoled me as best she could and I finally pulled myself together enough to continue driving.
This wasn’t my first child death; this wasn’t even my first child drowning. But something about the proximity of my own daughter, going from kissing the top of her head while she ‘drove’ my patrol car, and smelling the warm, lingering remains of that ‘new baby smell’ to pressing my mouth against small cold lips and smelling the stale chlorinated water.
I walked into the hospital with tears still wet on my face. I didn’t bother to wipe them away. The sight of a cop with red puffy eyes, the man of steel with a torn uniform, will upset even the most hardened ER nurse. I had several offers of apple juice or even a bed to lie down in as I made my way to the pediatric emergency area.
I ran into the fire crew that had run the child to the hospital standing outside of the ER, grim-faced. The Captain, seeing I was upset, placed a hand on my shoulder and said: ‘You did everything you could son.’
I shouldered my way into the ER and my heart stopped. I heard a small, weak beeping, and watched the boy register a faint pulse on the monitor. But one look at the doctor’s face and a short talk with one of the nurses confirmed my earlier fears. They were going through the motions. Although they got his heart restarted, the young boy would never wake up. No first day of school, no first home run, no first kiss. A lifetime of firsts lost at the bottom of a pool on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
A doctor once told me: ‘With today’s medicines and machines, I could get a pulse from a stone.’ That’s what they had done to my first call of the day. Jumped started a rock.
I then had to interview the mother and find out what happened. It was no big mystery, just an inattentive, inexperienced parent, and a terrible tragedy. I wrapped up my portion of the report, wiped my face and then worked the next nine hours of my shift.
I am glad it was me, I am glad I answered the call. That young man is the reason I put on a weapon every day and leave my family to protect yours. The day that I wished it was ‘someone else’ is the day I hang it up and sell insurance.”
Unsettling Feeling When The Coroner Showed Up
“We responded to a traffic crash in which four people were in a sedan. All were wasted. The vehicle swerved off the road hitting a culvert and left the occupants injured to the point that they could not exit the vehicle. The driver exited and walked to the roadway to get help. The car caught fire and the passengers still inside were too out of it to get out of the vehicle in time.
By the time we arrived on the scene, no one was able to get within about 40 yards of the car because of the heat. We were unable to get to the car, despite trying several times.
I have seen fatalities before and they are sad. But you learn to deal with it and move along. But these people were screaming for help, and no one could get even close to the car. By the time the fire department showed up, the coroner was pulling up. It is the worst feeling to see someone go like that, and not even be able to try to help.
Secondly, we responded to a traffic crash with a pedestrian on the highway. When we arrived, it was clear that this woman had committed suicide by kneeling down on the road and taking the full brunt of the next car that came down the road. Her husband arrived on scene a few moments after we did. He explained that she had been drinking and they got into a fight. She left the hotel room they were staying in and walked to the highway a couple hundred yards from the hotel. I don’t know what his last words to her were, but they were not nice.”
What He Found In The Red Toyota
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“It was a normal stop on the highway. The car was an old, beat up red Toyota. I switch the lights, and the car makes it’s way to the shoulder and stops.
I radio-dispatch the info and the plates came back expired, so I walk up to the car. The driver starts sweating like crazy, so I know something is up. There are five Hispanic middle-aged males in the car, so I pull the driver out and tell the rest to sit tight. The driver and I walk over to the hood of my patrol car. I tell him his plates are out and what not, and he starts shaking. I ask him what’s up, and he tells me the guys in the back are preparing to shoot me when I go to pull them out of the car.
Almost losing my cool, I walk back to my car as casually as possible and radio for backup. Backup comes, we set the driver in my patrol car, and we order the men in the back seat to get out with their hands up. They agree. They’re placed under arrest, and the car is searched. Sure enough, loaded sawn-off under the back seat. I let the driver go and the other guys went to jail, and I got to go home and see my kids for another night.”
Dealing With A Frantic Mother
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“My brother is a police officer, and this is the story of the worst call he has ever been on.
He had been on the force for about a year at that point and he got the call. The call was from a frantic mother whose baby, months old, had stopped breathing.
My brother responded code 1. It took him a few minutes to get there, but it felt like an eternity to him. He spent the time desperately trying to remember the first aid training he was given to police college a year and a half ago. He couldn’t remember anything about what to do with babies. As fate would have it he was the first responder on the scene. The mother was outside holding her baby patting him on the back. A small crowd had formed, no one knowing what to do. My brother jumped out of his car and the mother handed him her child. The baby was a sickly blue-grey color and my brother was almost out of his mind with helplessness. He held the baby for a moment and it began coughing. The baby began to breathe again.
Later, the EMTs would tell him that the mother patting on the babies back must have cleared the airways. My brother told me he never felt so scared or helpless in his career.”
They Never Picked Her Up From School?
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“I got a child neglect call at a grade school around 7 p.m. I thought it was late and strange because what kid is still at school at 7 p.m.? Must be serious.
We roll up and start talking to the principal, and she is telling us that the parents did not pick up the girl and that the school logged an ACS case on the mother already because she walks around the school with her daughter and panhandles. Now I think the mother is an addict or something.
The little girl is a cute, 7-year-old Spanish girl whose clothes are disheveled and her hair is crazy. She’s shy and I’m trying to just talk to her and see if her she knows where her parents are. Long story short, we end up tracking her parents across the city and roll up, and walk into the bad part of a building. Knock on the parent’s door and have a back and forth.
Lady: ‘WHO IS IT?’
Me: ‘Police.’
Lady: ‘WHAT YOU WANT?’
Me: ‘I’m not kicking in your door and want to talk to you like a human being. Open up.’
She cracks the door and immediately, the place smells. It seemed that the lady had clearly just woken up. And she’s also an addict. I ask her her name and get her ID to see if she is the mom because I don’t want the lady to front about who she is. I ask her why she didn’t pick her daughter up. She said that her medication (that weans her off of illegal substances) put her to sleep. At that time, her husband walks up the stairs and says: ‘What do you guys want?’ (Should be noted that the husband is wearing jeans and a t-shirt and hospital shoes. Also, there was a hospital band around his waist and appeared to be an obvious addict as well). I ask him if he overdosed and he said yeah that’s why he didn’t pick up his daughter.
So I check the apartment and the place is a mess. Mattresses on the floor, rotting scraps of food in the fridge, the little girl’s room with her clothes thrown in a pile, and her mattress on the ground. My partner and I lay into the parents and they cry crocodile tears because we tell them we are taking their daughter to ACS that night.
I’ve seen many screwed up things: People run over trains, teens shot lying down in blood, people jump and hit the ground trying to commit suicide. Tons of stuff. I was heartbroken how this girl was living. She was nice, smart and actually grew attached to me through the night doing paperwork and calling ACS. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when she already knew she was going to ACS and how she hated it there. And please don’t take her there. And how she cried when she left us.”