Dispatcher

There are some calls a dispatcher just doesn't want to hear.

Sometime in the early 1980s, a trooper called out on a routine traffic stop on the side of an interstate highway. The trooper obtains the drivers license and the vehicle registration, and somehow, gets himself in front of the vehicle. In the Chevy sedan is one white male and one white female, both in their late 20s.

The driver, knowing that he has multiple felony warrants outstanding, decides to run down the trooper. He guns the engine and starts forward. The trooper, in a remarkable display of dexterity, throws himself across the hood and grasps the windshield wiper with his left hand. With his right hand, the draws his pistol and puts two rounds through the windshield into the chest of the driver. The driver, in his death throes, stiffens his foot, propelling the vehicle forward, across the median, across the oncoming lane and into the opposite ditch, where the vehicle strikes a culvert, ejecting the trooper, who was later found to have a slight concussion and multiple bruises and contusions.

The dispatcher hears this come across his radio.

"Uuuh. Is this thing working?"

The dispatcher answers "Unidentified caller, you are on a police frequency. State your business.

"Uuuh. It looks like the trooper is knocked out and the driver is dead. I've got the radio and the troopers gun. Maybe you better send an ambulance out here."

The dispatcher goes directly into crisis mode, trying to figure out where this citizen is, which trooper is injured, and trying to get resources directed to the location. Then, the dispatcher hears this message.

Uuuh, it looks like the passenger is trying to get out of the car. Can I just go ahead and shoot her now?"

That dispatcher earned all her money that evening.