There I sit each working day, in my navy green pants and pristinely ironed white shirt, a badge on each shoulder and a silver star on my chest. Two computer screens stare, steadily back at me and like those awful ear muffs we wore as kids, a headset sits aloft my hair.
“Polk County Sheriff's Office, this is Philip speaking” –words I hear myself say many times each day.
The hurried voice of a female caller says, “Hello, is this the Sheriff’s Office? I’ve been raped.”
“You’ve been raped?” I ask, wanting to make sure that I have heard her correctly.
“Yes” she says. You can hear fear in her voice.
“Where are you at?”
“I’m calling from a payphone. I was going to the grocery store when these three Mexicans grabbed me and dragged me back to a trailer. . .”
“Is it safe there? Can you go back into the grocery store?” I ask.
“Into the grocery store! That’s where they got me. Listen, I’m hurting and I think that they’re coming back I gotta go.”
“Click”
There was nothing we could do. We had no idea where she was calling from.
Most of the calls are not so startling: “My neighbors won’t turn their music down and my baby can’t sleep.” A couple of weeks ago a man called in and said, “There’s a guy across the street from me who’s working on a car and he’s only wearing a thong. Could you send a deputy over here?” So is life working in the telecommunications center at the Sheriff’s Office.
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1 comment:
I know it must be difficult to hear a phone call like that and not know what to do. I'm sure that you are a light to those who work with you and those you work to help.
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