Vision to Reality

Vision to Reality

Andre V. Jones

“KSU SR42, 18J, Lot D, looking for a white Honda Civic, 1805 hours KNHD245” was the start of my career in public safety telecommunications (at Kennesaw State University [KSU], Department of Public Safety & University Police, Kennesaw, Georgia, USA). It was not, however, the career I initially chose. I started off wanting to be a doctor. More specifically, an OB/GYN. My logic was that people would always have babies (job security).

While at Kennesaw State University, I would listen to the city and county radio and dream about being as awesome and professional as those I observed. I would go home, and I would pretend I was 911 dispatcher, handling and dispatching the WORST events. Make no mistake, this was not child’s play. I had maps, manuals, everything! This was very detail-oriented and well-organized role-playing.

As it were, I would go down another path of “job security” related to emergency services and emergency management, on-boarding with Marietta E-9-1-1 (Marietta, Georgia) and later consolidating with Cobb Department of Public Safety 9-1-1/Communications Bureau (Marietta, Georgia). When I got behind the console, tragedy did not faze me because I had already dispatched every emergency there was. I had accepted that the caller’s crisis was not my crisis, and I was there to help them, not become part of their experience.

These abilities I attribute to my dream, one that manifested itself with the act of “pretending,” which I was quite good at. In doing so, I learned dedication, reliability, integrity, and objectivity as well as empathy, kindness, and discipline. For me, I learned how to see the world as it should be and to treat people within the world as they would want to be treated. I saw, I felt, I dreamt, and I appreciated and valued my version of the “land of make believe” where I could create the experiences. It was then that I committed to the profession with a vision to become the best communication center manager I could be. Part of my professional development plan included goals in higher education where I earned several degrees as well as aspirations of presenting at conferences.

The one thing I did not consider in this venture when I stepped up to be a supervisor is that I had to be people-oriented. Though I may have become a charismatic person, I realized that I couldn’t make anyone do anything no matter how much I tried to persuade them for the sake of progress. I may have been the “best dispatcher,” but that was not the job description of “supervisor.” Many times I had to step back and learn how to follow regardless of who was leading. THAT was tough.

I learned that you can only control what you can control. In leadership, you must engage, cultivate, and inspire people to get results. You develop a culture that does what needs to be done because there’s a shared sense of purpose and duty to do the right thing right, and not just waiting for someone to give orders. It’s called empowerment: making something organized seem improvised.

So I dreamed. Not whimsical and magical dreams, but optimistic dreams. Then I designed and developed the framework to make these dreams—the visions—become reality. After all, I will still be a doctor, just a Ph.D. instead of an M.D. It is about to be a new year. What do you dream of? Can it be reality?

Route 91 Harvest Music Festival

Route 91 Harvest Music Festival

Charlotte Gentry

I am going to tell my story about that day, the Oct. 1 Shooting, even though in my eyes, that’s not the official name. I can’t bring myself to call it that. I am going to be raw, honest, and open because I think that is what people should hear. It may not be what you want to hear, but it’s what I need for you to know.

I went back to work on Oct. 3 because there were people at my job that would need my help. I was on the peer support team. I was OK. I never cried in those first few months. I didn’t have survivor’s guilt. I joined survivors’ pages and watched people talk about how they couldn’t leave their house. They couldn’t function and were sad all the time.

That wasn’t me (or so I thought). I shared my story more times than I can recall and every time it got easier. I didn’t have post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). It felt like it didn’t hit me as hard as I saw it affecting other people. I immediately started going back to concerts and back to my life. I kept busy for months trying to do things for my agency, so they got the recognition that they deserved. I was OK … but I wasn’t. I was just ignoring it. I was ignoring the anxiety, the emptiness I felt inside, and the depression. I would sleep as much as I could. I lost focus at work. I made HUGE mistakes, and hurt people trying to fill that void inside me.

When the shooting started, I was alone. And that is how I felt for almost the whole last year. People at work would tell me they were worried about me because I was different. I didn’t feel any different, but I heard this from multiple people. I lost my smile. I lost my happiness and never noticed. I was always anxious at work. There were so many days that I cried at work and times I just sat and looked at my computer screen. It is hard for people that weren’t there to know how I was feeling and it’s not something you can explain, so I tried to deal with it myself. I went to a trauma counselor and that didn’t really help. I found another counselor that was OK, but I didn’t feel like she was helping so I quit going.

My therapy became getting tattoos. I got six since the shooting and I’m going today to get another one. The pain of the tattoos helped me feel… something, even though it was pain. It took the pain that I didn’t know I had and made it go away for those few hours. Every time I felt anxious, I called my tattoo artist. I now have almost a full sleeve.

I took a lot of Valium during this time. Enough that it would knock most people out. But it didn’t stop the anxiousness and I didn’t tell anyone.

In this business you don’t let things get to you, right? Wrong; they get to us slowly over time and we never admit it. This is what I am doing. I am admitting that I was not OK, and it took me a long time to get there (11 and a half months to be exact). I never thought about hurting myself, but there were so many days that I wished I just didn’t exist. There are some amazing people that I work with, but just like any other center there are those ones that make work hell. They made my last year harder than it had to be.

Being shot at and involved in the worst mass shooting in America’s history wasn’t enough. I had issues at work and outside of work, but I always blamed it on something else. I was diagnosed with PTSD, surprise! I wasn’t OK. Like I mentioned earlier I made some huge mistakes; I hurt people and all I can do is say I am sorry. I can’t go back and change anything. My career isn’t the same. I made mistakes and I felt like the first job I ever loved, some of the coworkers that liked me (not all), abandoned me when I needed them the most. But you live and you learn, and these lessons that all this horrible stuff has taught me will always stay with me.

In the last few months I have started to come out of my depression for the most part. I rarely take Valium. I have started the journey to happiness. There were a couple of times during the last few months when what I had gone through and how much it changed me slapped me in the face. I was standing in the kitchen talking to my 81-year-old mom and she got teary eyed. I asked her what was wrong and she said to me, “I finally have my daughter back. I lost her for the last year.”

I didn’t see it, but now I know and I’ve started changing. I started working out, eating better, and I met my husband. We got married after knowing each other for six weeks. It wasn’t because I needed to have someone around; it’s because we just clicked. We knew from the first few dates that it was right.

They say the one-year anniversary of a traumatic event can be the hardest, and the week leading up to it was hard, but it was healing. I tried to do too many events to help heal. The night of Oct. 1, 2018, survivors made a human chain around the Route 91 venue. It felt like we had to be there at that exact time that the shooting started for the 58 people that lost their lives. We all lost a piece of us that we will never get back. Trauma changes people and you can never go back to who you were before that day. We have a new normal and the new normal isn’t so bad. That night at the human chain, I didn’t feel the closure I thought I would feel, although the hugs from other survivors were amazing. We knew how each other felt.

I visited the Healing Garden on Sept. 30, and looking at the wall with the 58 names on it brought tears to my eyes. My son and mom could have been there looking at my name. I am so glad they didn’t have to go through that. I felt the closure on Sept. 20, 2018, when I got to finish what we started at Route 91 and I got to see Jason Aldean perform. There were about 200 survivors at that concert and it felt right being around people that had been through the same thing I had. When he sang the two songs that he was singing when the shooting happened, I finally let myself cry. That is when I felt the closure. I was a member of a club I never signed up for, but I love my CountryStrong and LoveWins club. I am not OK. And it’s OK to not be OK … but I will be.

Charlotte Gentry Munro is the Quality Improvement Coordinator for Las Vegas Fire and Rescue communications. She is also a Priority Dispatch Software Instructor and a National Q. She was attending the Route 91 Harvest Music festival on Oct. 1, 2017, when a gunman opened fire on the crowd, killing 58 people and injuring hundreds more.

Attitude Reflects Leadership

Attitude Reflects Leadership

Andre V. Jones

My manager told me once that by listening to radio traffic he knew who the supervisor on duty was in the dispatch center. He said there was something about their aura that had the ability to control the temperament in the room. When I actually considered it, he was correct; the attitude of employees is a direct reflection of their leadership.

Having worked with many different types of supervisors in the dispatch center over the years, it takes a unique individual to manage internal and external crises, simultaneously. It’s important to acknowledge the latter because senior managers and even executives often forget that the role of the supervisor is not exclusive to managing incidents but also managing people—people who have emotions and needs beyond their duty. The people are what make the organization what it is.

I was listening to Las Vegas Fire Combined Communications (Nevada, USA) Supervisor Letha Lofton describe her actions on the day of the Route 91 Massacre (Oct. 1, 2017, when a single gunman opened fire on a crowded music festival). In that brief presentation at NAVIGATOR 2018, she displayed exemplary spirit, tenacity, and grace.

Lofton said her team was initially confused, overwhelmed, and helpless. “Baby, I got you,’’ she told them, and in that moment, it was all the support needed to bring out the best in her team. They were no longer hopeless because they all had an incredible guardian that moved out of the way to allow them to stay strong for each other.

Lofton’s composure kept her team together that night. Yes, the team members do have individual operational and coping skills, but I believe they were activated and guided under the support of her leadership. I believe in that situation, the supervisor switched from task-oriented to relationship-oriented, allowing fortitude, solicitude, endurance, and perseverance to thrive that night. Under similar circumstances I have seen supervisors escalate the crisis by trying to be too participative and directive. Lofton showed us that empathy and compassion inspire.

Sarah McCrae, Las Vegas Fire & Rescue (LVFR) Assistant Fire Chief, who arrived at the center within the first hour of the incident, commended the strength of Lofton’s team that night during her remarks at the NAVIGATOR Opening Session. “That night, our team undeniably had vision, they knew what they were after and what they were about. And so despite the fear, the concern, and the confusion, they pressed ahead and provided calm reassurance to our community and our first responders.”

So what type of leader is best for the emergency dispatch center? Any leadership style that can create an effective team. Fellow leaders, ask yourself:

  • Do you have a purpose, and are we accomplishing it?
  • Are you providing satisfactory leadership to your employees, customers, clients, and society; are we motivated and coordinated?
  • Can you adapt to new opportunities and minimize obstacles (do you embrace change)?
  • Are you capable of developing your own tasks and abilities?
  • Would you survive in a world of uncertainties (resiliency, continuity)?

A good leader can assess and diagnose talent to see that the right people are doing the right jobs. A good leader can empower the team by enabling the team members to navigate and respond to change. Good leadership encourages interaction and communication among members, a shared understanding, goals, interest, and mutual positive attitudes. Heart, intellect, and improvisation are resources to make the right decision and get the job done. Ultimately, leaders take responsibility for the results.

Operational effectiveness hinges on team confidence. In a technical and tactical job like emergency dispatch, the team must be empowered to use what they know and practice. That is where the leader comes in.

Are you the leader of an effective team?

Filling The Gaps

Filling The Gaps

Heidi DiGennaro

There are times when the protocol does not fill the gaps on a call. Every call is different; that is the nature of our business and no protocol can cover every situation. One of the best pieces of advice I received when I started was, “If you think you know everything, quit. You don’t.” So what do you do when the protocol isn’t enough? Below are scenarios the protocols do not cover and you, the emergency dispatcher, must think fast to handle them.

Caller pretending not to have you on the phone

People will call and pretend like they aren’t talking to an emergency dispatcher. You need to be at your best because most likely they are in danger, someone else is in danger, or something wicked your way comes. Many have heard about the woman who called to order a pizza while in a domestic violence situation, and the dispatcher caught on and helped her. What if that dispatcher had missed the cues?

What to do?

Listen. Callers need you to listen to what they are not saying. What’s the caller’s tone of voice? What’s happening in the background? Are they aware they have misdialed? Did they whisper in the phone that they couldn’t let the other person with them know that they are calling for help?

Stay quiet and use a soft tone of voice. Many emergency dispatchers crank up the volume on their phones loud enough where people around the caller can hear conversations. If you are loud, you might put the caller in danger. A soft tone shows your caller that you understand there is a problem. Callers will try to give you what they can. Have you heard calls where the telecommunicator is saying in a strident or bored tone, “This is 911. Do you have an emergency?” Do you want this to be you in the media playback?

Caller drops off and leaves an open line

Occasionally, the caller says one thing and the line stays open; she does not answer you thereafter. Increasing your volume means the louder you are, the more you are not listening to what’s happening in the background. You could miss shots fired or cover over them with your fourth, fifth, or sixth “answer me” request.

I handled a call from a female who told me the address and about the domestic situation before she stopped answering, and I had an open line. Months later I was told my silence allowed the recording to capture the rape in progress. By my not talking and only listening, the recording captured the entire crime, and it was used against the suspect in court to secure a conviction.

You, the emergency dispatcher, can help yourself when the protocol does not fill the gap. Identify the gaps. If you have a suggestion, forward it. The Academy has a process in place to request changes; make suggestions and benefit all of us. Review the protocols frequently and find the gaps; discovering there is a gap during a call isn’t the right time. Play the “what-if” or “what would I do” game by yourself or with others in your center to go over the protocols and where they stop.

If the situation has never happened before, protocol cannot cover it. Think of major events in your jurisdiction that happened once and never again. Now you probably have a plan for this odd event that occurred once. How many oddball, screwy, kick-you-in-the-teeth situations do you think are out there that you haven’t seen yet? The only thing you can do is to accept there is a gap and suggest change. No protocol can cover every eventuality, and understanding that not all calls will fit on the protocol reduces stress and anxiety.

You’re the one that people call in a crisis and part of you managing the chaos of a 911 call is knowing the strengths and weaknesses of the tools in your toolbox.

Speed Bumps

Speed Bumps

Kristin K. Brooks

Speed bumps. I don’t know about you, but when I hear that word, I automatically get annoyed. Speed bumps are those annoying little things that always appear to slow me down. I know that speed bumps are placed where they are for good reasons—to slow the speed of cars in a residential area, for example—but it doesn’t mean I have to like them.

In the communication center, I sometimes feel like I am driving down a highway of speed bumps. I feel like I am on top of my game when a speed bump appears and slows me down.

There are even different kinds of speed bumps. I remember as a little girl riding my bicycle over speed bumps that made me bounce. These were the tall and skinny ones. I was impatient with my dad driving over these inconvenient spots in the roadway. Couldn’t he go around them? In my grandmother’s neighborhood, speed bumps are the vehicle’s full length. They are called speed tables. The speed bump is so wide that you laugh—how is this supposed to slow me down? I never slow down and end up looking like an episode of “The Dukes of Hazzard” with my vehicle flying through the air and landing nose first on the other side.

Then there are speed bumps that sneak up on me. I saw the warning sign but got distracted and don’t hit the brakes fast enough, and I end up bracing for impact. In the aftermath, I tell myself not to let that happen again. There are also speed bumps in the communication center. They are inconvenient incidents that happen in intervals that slow us down. No one really likes a speed bump, but once you hit one, you stop and consider why the speed bump is there. Speed bumps in the communication center can help us slow down, step back, and regroup.

The tall, skinny ones are incidents or problems that sort of come and go. Nothing too damaging, but a situation that stirs everyone to take a step back and regroup. Take, for example, when the CAD gives similar street names to pick from and you unknowingly pick the wrong address. First responders go to the wrong address, the caller wonders when help will arrive, and the dispatcher is frustrated over the preventable mistake. The incident is not life-threatening [although it could be], but it reminds everyone about what could happen in a more serious event.

The speed table incidents are the ones that no one wants to go through. The media are a prime example. Sometimes they camp out near the department as a constant reminder of a mishap. They play up the event and the not always accurate facts run throughout the day on the communication center TV. These situations unhinge or unravel the comfort zone. These incidents can force some emergency dispatchers to question their passion. Is it worth holding on tight and going through the storm?

The speed bumps that come with warning signs that are ignored or forgotten are incidents that you truly never saw coming, although the signs were all there. The death of a co-worker brings sadness. If the person was ill, the warning signs were probably there, but everyone ignored them because it’s easier than accepting reality. The department regroups from the incident and tries to move forward.

Speed bumps in the comm. center are inevitable. These inconvenient incidents remind us why we chose this profession. It is easy to get complacent, and we shouldn’t. We need to develop ways to approach these speed bumps. We should look at them as learning experiences so that in the future we remember to double-check an address, remember that we know what happened during an event, and remember not to take co-workers for granted. Together, we can learn to go over these speed bumps with grace.

The Art Of EMS

The Art Of EMS

Kate Dernocoeur, NREMT

There are by now several generations of emergency care providers who have perhaps missed one important EMS book: “Streetsense: Communication, Safety, and Control.” The book’s first edition was published way back in 1986, and the third edition was released in 1996. But many industry leaders today will tell you it had a huge impact on their street careers.

I wrote the first edition in the early 1980s out of desperation. Although my paramedic school instructors back in the 1970s were magnificent at teaching about bodies, what could go wrong, and what I could do about it in the prehospital setting, they were nurses and doctors. They had no direct experience with the streets.

As I started my years of service (at the Denver (Colorado, USA) Paramedic Division, 1979–1986, and for a private service for a year before that), I realized there was much—oh, so very much—still to learn about the craft of EMS. It was quickly evident that capable and efficient field providers incorporated abundant non-medical skills on every call. How not to knock on a door. When to dig in at a scene, and when to cut and run. Why I should learn how to hold a patient’s hand sometimes.

I learned these and many other tips and tricks of effective delivery of emergency care from watching both gifted mentors and others showing me what not to do. Over time, I wondered why no one had written a book about these things. Finally, I decided to write that book myself.

I mulled over the possibilities for a couple of years, keeping idea lists while awaiting calls at the corner of 17th and Federal or somewhere up on Denver’s Capitol Hill. I noticed, when running our average of 10 calls in a 10-hour shift, many various elements that would need to be included in such a book as the one I was proposing. Over time, I decided there were three main pillars of street sense: effective interpersonal communication, a variety of aspects of safety, and control of everything from crowds and weaponized situations to ways of handling stress and death and dying. When I pitched the idea to the Brady Communications Co. at a conference, I was told they’d mail a contract to me within a week. The book’s time had come.

So much has changed since the 1970s! Believe it or not, when I started, my instructors pounded into us that our very first priority on a call was the patient’s ABCs (Airway, Breathing, and Circulation). It took years (and I do credit “Streetsense” for having a hand in this) to alter that message; these days, everyone knows that the first priority is personal safety. It’s been fun to revise and build a better book with each new edition (second edition in 1990, third in 1996). Infection control came into the collective conversation for the second edition. Gangs and a new chapter on customer service and the nature of routine debuted in the third edition.

This book is being updated yet again. The fourth edition retains its usual triad of communication, safety, and control while reflecting the evolution of the EMS industry since the arrival of the millennium: computers and cellphones, social media, active shooters, and so much more. Scheduled for release in February 2019 by PennWell, the fourth edition of “Streetsense” will offer the same lodestone of tips and tricks to help EMS providers—both new and street-savvy—do the job even better. Watch for it!