07-22-2006, 03:11 PM
Calm Voice In Midst Of Chaos
By DEBORAH ZIFF The Tampa Tribune
Published: Jul 21, 2006
TAMPA - A little before 5 p.m., a call comes into the Tampa Police Department communications center. Three men have stolen a white Dodge truck. An officer radios his location, running, breathless.
Dispatch sends more units: 19 in all. They've caught two suspects and are looking for a third at East Martin Luther King Boulevard and Taliaferro Street.
The dispatch center is buzzing. Dispatchers not on the call turn up their radios to listen.
This is command central for 911 calls and police units on the streets, where the dispatcher's voice can be the difference between an officer catching a suspect and getting shot.
The one-story building is the antithesis of the drama, conflict and gore outside. In a muted gray-and-blue interior, 17 to 21 dispatchers wear headsets and talk in calm tones to frantic callers.
There are no windows. Dispatchers rely on the eyes and ears of officers to direct calls. Likewise, officers depend on dispatchers for vital information.
What is the suspect wearing? What's the address of the crime? Who's coming for backup?
The dispatchers need to have the answers.
"I break out into a sweat," dispatcher Elisa Romero says of high-drama moments in the dispatch center. "I know these units. I get adrenaline rushes with them. They're relying on us to relay information."
Romero, 27, has been a dispatcher 2 1/2 years. She was a Police Explorer as a girl, the Tampa Police Department program that encourages youngsters into law enforcement.
Her half-inch-long fingernails click against the keyboard as she navigates three computer monitors, covered with screens that continuously pop up and blink at her to pay attention.
Romero is responsible for 30 to 40 police units in half of District 3, which includes downtown, Central Park, Ybor City and Grant Park.
Her job is all about multitasking and staying calm under pressure.
Besides maintaining a constant dialogue with all units over the radio, dispatchers field messages from 911 operators, respond to instant messages from officers needing information and direct crossover radio frequencies.
"Turnover is very high in this job," she says. "People can't handle the multitasking. They get stressed out."
In each training class, only about half make the cut, estimates Kim Lightheart, supervisor at the communications center, who has 18 years as a dispatcher.
The dispatchers, about evenly split between men and women, range from under 21 to late 60s. Many dispatchers leave the job eventually because of the demanding schedule, Lightheart says. The center is manned 24 hours a day in three shifts.
Dispatchers are on call during emergency situations, such as hurricanes, sometimes even camping out at the communications center.
Lightheart admits that the job has taken a toll on her family life.
"It has ever since I've been here," she says.
Because of a shortage, Tampa police changed how it trains dispatchers about three months ago. It's a stopgap measure to keep the center manned. Although on a given night a dispatcher only has one duty, they've traditionally trained on emergency and nonemergency 911 calls and the radio, or communications with officers. Now, rookies start only on 911 operations.
A Codependent Relationship
An officer happens on a home with an open door at 7:22 p.m.
"Tango 2, need K9?" Romero asks the officer, pressing her sneaker on the pedal that cues the microphone. If it was a break-in, a canine unit might be able to trace the scent of the burglars.
"Just advise door was wide open. It doesn't look like force," the officer responds over static.
"K9-12, 10-16 on phone won't be able to respond for 30 to 40 minutes," Romero replies.
Most of Romero's communications are unitelligible to the uninitiated. She talks in 10 codes and signals. It keeps the radio open and routine interaction short, she says.
Officers and dispatchers have a congenial give-and-take, a codependent relationship.
"They really need to come through for us," says Officer Paul Northrup, who rides in Romero's district. "And they always do."
The police department uses an instant messaging system to communicate. Usually officers and dispatchers shoot each other messages for less urgent requests and, when it's slow, for good-natured ribbing.
'My Other Half'
The training program is in flux. The current system, which allows new trainees to master the 911 operations before switching to dispatch after six months, is temporary. Lightheart hopes it will help her retain more dispatchers.
"If they learn one position at a time, we're hoping there'll be less burnout," she says.
It's a little before 10, and 911 operator Sonia Burgos gets a call about a traffic stop at 20th Street and Fowler Avenue. Traffic stops, or signal 50, are some of the most dangerous moments for police officers, who face unknown risks when approaching a car. Dispatchers are required to check on officers over the radio three minutes into them.
"Who has signal 50?" Sonia Burgos quickly turns and asks the dispatchers, with an edge of panic in her voice. "The guy he is going to stop has a gun."
Burgos is fairly new on the job. She has been working only since March and still has questions about some calls.
Romero pauses, then quickly pulls up a map of the address on her computer. "That's not us," she says. "That's county." It's a Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office case, not Tampa police.
Danger to the officers is the biggest worry for dispatchers. Romero is friends with two female officers who were recently in a foot pursuit. She was glued to the radio.
"That's the No. 1 priority," she says. "To make sure they don't get hurt."
After almost 12 years on the job, Tammie Williams, 32, has heard almost every panicked emergency. The only thing that would really shake her now, she says, is if an officer was shot while she was on the radio.
"That's my other half on the other side," Williams says.
At 10:30, Romero is off in 45 minutes. It has been an exceptionally slow night. No high-priority calls: shootings, bad accidents or fights with violence.
At night's end, though, as Romero reflects, she says, "I like my job, I do."
LEARN THE LINGO
A sample of dispatch lingo:
10-codes:
10-4 - Acknowledgement
10-8 - In service
10-15 - Violator or prisoner in custody
10-34 - Is everything OK?
10-43 - Information
10-51 - En route
10-54 - Negative
10-65 - Are you clear for a message?
10-97 - On scene
Signals:
03 - Hit and run
04 - Traffic accident
05 - Homicide
08 - Missing person
10 - Stolen vehicle
20 - Mentally ill person
22 - Sexual assault/battery
50 - Traffic stop
58 - Dead animal or health hazard
73 - Domestic dispute
By DEBORAH ZIFF The Tampa Tribune
Published: Jul 21, 2006
TAMPA - A little before 5 p.m., a call comes into the Tampa Police Department communications center. Three men have stolen a white Dodge truck. An officer radios his location, running, breathless.
Dispatch sends more units: 19 in all. They've caught two suspects and are looking for a third at East Martin Luther King Boulevard and Taliaferro Street.
The dispatch center is buzzing. Dispatchers not on the call turn up their radios to listen.
This is command central for 911 calls and police units on the streets, where the dispatcher's voice can be the difference between an officer catching a suspect and getting shot.
The one-story building is the antithesis of the drama, conflict and gore outside. In a muted gray-and-blue interior, 17 to 21 dispatchers wear headsets and talk in calm tones to frantic callers.
There are no windows. Dispatchers rely on the eyes and ears of officers to direct calls. Likewise, officers depend on dispatchers for vital information.
What is the suspect wearing? What's the address of the crime? Who's coming for backup?
The dispatchers need to have the answers.
"I break out into a sweat," dispatcher Elisa Romero says of high-drama moments in the dispatch center. "I know these units. I get adrenaline rushes with them. They're relying on us to relay information."
Romero, 27, has been a dispatcher 2 1/2 years. She was a Police Explorer as a girl, the Tampa Police Department program that encourages youngsters into law enforcement.
Her half-inch-long fingernails click against the keyboard as she navigates three computer monitors, covered with screens that continuously pop up and blink at her to pay attention.
Romero is responsible for 30 to 40 police units in half of District 3, which includes downtown, Central Park, Ybor City and Grant Park.
Her job is all about multitasking and staying calm under pressure.
Besides maintaining a constant dialogue with all units over the radio, dispatchers field messages from 911 operators, respond to instant messages from officers needing information and direct crossover radio frequencies.
"Turnover is very high in this job," she says. "People can't handle the multitasking. They get stressed out."
In each training class, only about half make the cut, estimates Kim Lightheart, supervisor at the communications center, who has 18 years as a dispatcher.
The dispatchers, about evenly split between men and women, range from under 21 to late 60s. Many dispatchers leave the job eventually because of the demanding schedule, Lightheart says. The center is manned 24 hours a day in three shifts.
Dispatchers are on call during emergency situations, such as hurricanes, sometimes even camping out at the communications center.
Lightheart admits that the job has taken a toll on her family life.
"It has ever since I've been here," she says.
Because of a shortage, Tampa police changed how it trains dispatchers about three months ago. It's a stopgap measure to keep the center manned. Although on a given night a dispatcher only has one duty, they've traditionally trained on emergency and nonemergency 911 calls and the radio, or communications with officers. Now, rookies start only on 911 operations.
A Codependent Relationship
An officer happens on a home with an open door at 7:22 p.m.
"Tango 2, need K9?" Romero asks the officer, pressing her sneaker on the pedal that cues the microphone. If it was a break-in, a canine unit might be able to trace the scent of the burglars.
"Just advise door was wide open. It doesn't look like force," the officer responds over static.
"K9-12, 10-16 on phone won't be able to respond for 30 to 40 minutes," Romero replies.
Most of Romero's communications are unitelligible to the uninitiated. She talks in 10 codes and signals. It keeps the radio open and routine interaction short, she says.
Officers and dispatchers have a congenial give-and-take, a codependent relationship.
"They really need to come through for us," says Officer Paul Northrup, who rides in Romero's district. "And they always do."
The police department uses an instant messaging system to communicate. Usually officers and dispatchers shoot each other messages for less urgent requests and, when it's slow, for good-natured ribbing.
'My Other Half'
The training program is in flux. The current system, which allows new trainees to master the 911 operations before switching to dispatch after six months, is temporary. Lightheart hopes it will help her retain more dispatchers.
"If they learn one position at a time, we're hoping there'll be less burnout," she says.
It's a little before 10, and 911 operator Sonia Burgos gets a call about a traffic stop at 20th Street and Fowler Avenue. Traffic stops, or signal 50, are some of the most dangerous moments for police officers, who face unknown risks when approaching a car. Dispatchers are required to check on officers over the radio three minutes into them.
"Who has signal 50?" Sonia Burgos quickly turns and asks the dispatchers, with an edge of panic in her voice. "The guy he is going to stop has a gun."
Burgos is fairly new on the job. She has been working only since March and still has questions about some calls.
Romero pauses, then quickly pulls up a map of the address on her computer. "That's not us," she says. "That's county." It's a Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office case, not Tampa police.
Danger to the officers is the biggest worry for dispatchers. Romero is friends with two female officers who were recently in a foot pursuit. She was glued to the radio.
"That's the No. 1 priority," she says. "To make sure they don't get hurt."
After almost 12 years on the job, Tammie Williams, 32, has heard almost every panicked emergency. The only thing that would really shake her now, she says, is if an officer was shot while she was on the radio.
"That's my other half on the other side," Williams says.
At 10:30, Romero is off in 45 minutes. It has been an exceptionally slow night. No high-priority calls: shootings, bad accidents or fights with violence.
At night's end, though, as Romero reflects, she says, "I like my job, I do."
LEARN THE LINGO
A sample of dispatch lingo:
10-codes:
10-4 - Acknowledgement
10-8 - In service
10-15 - Violator or prisoner in custody
10-34 - Is everything OK?
10-43 - Information
10-51 - En route
10-54 - Negative
10-65 - Are you clear for a message?
10-97 - On scene
Signals:
03 - Hit and run
04 - Traffic accident
05 - Homicide
08 - Missing person
10 - Stolen vehicle
20 - Mentally ill person
22 - Sexual assault/battery
50 - Traffic stop
58 - Dead animal or health hazard
73 - Domestic dispute