The sense of urgency poured through the dispatcher's headphones as the switchboard lights flashed. Some callers were rapid-fire frantic, rarely pausing for breath between pleas. Others were hardly audible between sobs and desperate screams.
"My baby's not breathing," one shouted.
"I've been in an accident," another voice quivered.
"Somebody's broken into my home. Please help me," another pleaded.
"I want you to stay calm, ma'am," responded Shelley Peetz, a soft but direct voice of reason speaking to strangers convinced that their worlds are about to end.
Peetz, 48, began working at the Anoka County communications center just a few months before the 911 system was introduced locally, exactly 25 years ago today. One of 33 communications dispatchers employed by Anoka County, Peetz answers as many as 200 calls a day, saying, "Police and fire. Is this an emergency?" And then she takes a deep breath, listens and directs the caller to the appropriate authority, responding to every plea as though it were life-changing and unique -- even though she's probably heard it all thousands of times before.
An estimated 200,000 calls are taken each year by Anoka County communications dispatchers, who then transfer the calls to the appropriate authorities. And the county dispatchers annually field at least another 200,000 duplicate emergency calls, those that others have already reported, said John Tonding, the county's communications manager. As afternoon turns to evening, the calls seem to multiply and become more catastrophic.
"You get a different flavor of 911 calls," Tonding said. "The afternoon rush hour brings accidents. People getting home from work discover crimes committed in their homes. And later in the evening, you're more apt to get calls concerning domestic violence."