The Emergency Services Dispatcher

I am the person who sent help when you had your first automobile accident. I am the voice that calms the mother into breathing life into her apneic infant son. I am the invisible hand that holds and comforts the elderly man who woke up this morning to find his wife of 50 years has passed away during the night. I am the friend who talks the disgruntled teenager out of ending her own life.

I am the one who tries to obtain the information from callers to ensure that the scene is safe for those I dispatch to emergencies—all the while anticipating the worst while hoping for the best. I am the psychologist who readily adopts my language and tone of voice to serve the needs of my callers with compassion and understanding.

I am the ears that listen to the needs of all those I serve. I have heard the screams of faceless people I will never meet nor forget. I have cried at the atrocities of mankind and rejoiced at the miracles of life.

I was there, though unseen by the responders in the field, during the most trying emergencies. I have tried to visualize the scene to coincide with the voices I heard. Often, I am not privy to the outcome of a call.

I am a mother, father, sister, brother, son, or daughter; yet, I leave my family to work holidays, weekends, and strange shifts. I do this because the communications center can never be empty, and the work is never done. I am always on call. The training is strenuous, demanding, and endless. No two days at work are ever the same.

Children do not say they want my job when they grow up. Yet, I do this by choice. Those I help do not call back to say thank you; still, there is comfort in the challenge, integrity, and purpose of my employment.

I am here when you need me, and I'm still here when you don't.