It was a dark night, about an hour after a severe storm rolled by. A couple who is going to be married in two weeks decides to take a ride in the cooler air. They are driving less then two miles from their house. They crest a hill and see a piece of a tree in the road, with some water on the road. They drive just a tad further and see it doesn’t look safe. They go to reverse their car and–BAM!–a wall of water from a field slams their car and floats them helplessly into a field. Water fills the car fast. It isn’t long until water is up to the dashboard, and the woman dials 911 in a frantic attempt to get some help.
The car finally comes to rest several hundred yards of the road in a field. They are far off the road, can’t be seen by on-coming traffic. 911 tones the responders, water fills the car. The woman is standing on her seat as water comes about half way up her window. The water is swift and cold. The man is desperately trying to figure out how to save them, he is bailing water out his open window in hopes that it won’t fill the car–it is angled against the tree and he is elevated. They are able to shine a light to the responders, they are seen, they hear on a two-way radio in the car that the fire department sees them.
The woman stays on the line talking to the 911 dispatcher, and the dispatcher assures her and reassures her. Finally, an hour after being trapped, the water slowly starts to recede–it’s down below her window now. They are both freezing after being stuck in the water over an hour. About two hours into the ordeal a boat gets to them, pulls them out and takes them to dry land. They have lost their car, but they are alive, have each other and will marry on June 28th, 2009, in their front yard…less then two miles from where they almost died.
How do I know this story so well? No, I was not the dispatcher who took the call. I was the dispatcher driving the car.
Two nights ago I thought I was going to die. I thought I would never see my fiancé alive again, or my daughters , my (almost here) granddaughter or anyone I know or love. The fear swept over me, though somehow I managed to keep it together for the two hours or so we were trapped. My fiancé Sandy stayed on the phone with the 911 dispatcher by almost pushing her head to the roof of the car. We lost them twice but each time reconnected.
While the dispatcher didn’t have many instructions (man, we need to look at a swift water rescue card as opposed to a sinking vehicle), both their professionalism and dedication showed. They kept Sandy busy, so that she didn’t go under or give up. The fire department affected a great rescue and we are safe, thanks God.
I know what it is like on the dispatch side taking a call like this. I have wondered if they would make it, if I would be the last person they talked to, if they will ask me to tell a family member they love them. All those thoughts go through your head as a dispatcher taking a call. So many more go through when you’re in the car. I will not go into a lot of those now, but I will share them with anyone off list–but let me just say I thought we were dead.
We were almost chin high seated in the water. (Sandy got higher by standing on the seat I am to big a guy for that). The thoughts for the first hour were how could I save Sandy even if it cost me my life, and to be honest, also how I could end life without having to drown to death (that’s got to be a terrible way to go).
But Someone had and has bigger plans for us. I can tell you when we went back to see the car yesterday, we were one foot away from going into the dry creek bed that has six-foot banks. We would have been turned upside down, but thank God we stopped miraculously where we did.
We look back at it now, I will never again say something like “How could they be so crazy to drive in the water?” or “How could they not see it?” It came as a surprise, out of nowhere like a wall of thunder or a freight train.
I learned many lessons that day, one is definitely to be more understating of circumstances we dispatch to. Our preconceived notions sometimes could be way off. The other thing is we have an important job ( I knew that but I know it now more). We have to come to work each day fully prepared, mind clear, ready to go because it can all change at the drop of a hat. Our job is important,
Our job does save lives, Our job is a vital part of the team (whether other agencies realize it or not). We do real work, we do life-saving, life-changing work. It is not a joke. We need to take pride in what we do. It is an awesome job. I know that Sandy and I are alive because a 911 dispatcher who didn’t know us (well she thought she didn’t till she figured out who we were) was there, and Emilee and Logan kept Sandy calm and talking so that she didn’t give up or drown. To them we owe our lives (and the firefighters who rescued us).
Thanks all for listening. Yes we are without a car–it was totaled (we have a clunker back up). But we are alive to celebrate our love and I can do another day as a 911 dispatcher, and Sandy can as a nurse. That is a gift not many people receive.
As for our mental health, we are visibly and invisibly shaken. We will work it out even if we need professional help, but at least we are here to see another day. Oh, on a parting note, I had a radio in the car and text messages on my cell–the National Weather Service issued a flash flood warning 20 minutes after we were swept away. I kinda knew that already. LOL.
Thank you all for your time. I thought this would be something good to share with the groups to remind us how important our job is and how much I appreciate our angels at Henry County 911 in Clinton (Mo.), and to the firefighters with Windsor Rural Fire Dept. THANK YOU and GREAT JOB YOU GUYS !
Jeffrey Noonan
Night Shift – 911 Dispatch Supervisor
Johnson County Central Dispatch, Warrensburg (Mo.)
Noonan writes that he hopes the story is instructive to dispatchers. “First, we can all be a victim at any time. I did not drive through water. I got hit by a wall of water. Second, dispatchers are the first and VITAL link to getting help to people in need. Third, never assume. Just remember, our job is to send help no matter how little or big it is.”
“We owe our lives to those 911 dispatchers and the firefighters who had NO swift water rescue training, and who came out, and wouldn’t leave me behind (they loaded up my fiancé. I told them to take her first, cause I am a big guy, but they wouldn’t leave me). The system worked that day just like it is supposed to do. Thanks, God.”
0 comments… add one
You must log in to post a comment. Log in now.