9-1-1

There are certain things that we just don't think about on a daily basis.  If it isn't part of our daily lives, it doesn't matter.  Maybe you're glad it is there, but you don't actively think about it.  For most people, that's how they think of 9-1-1.  The number exists should you ever need it, but you'll probably never call it.  You may joke about it when you see someone doing something stupid, but you don't expect to have to follow through.  The good news is that there are competent people waiting, just in case you need them.

While sitting at the intersection of 501 and Seaboard Street tonight, I was trying to figure out how to kill half an hour.  Mark wasn't quite done yet, but he was going to be done soon enough that going home seemed like a waste.  As I was musing, there was an accident.  The light was green on 501, and somehow, there was a collision.  It was one of the oddest things I've ever seen.

You don't usually see an accident happen.  You come upon it after emergency vehicles are there, cleaning up and moving you along.  You may gripe because it's holding you up, or you may be on of those people that gets excited because it is something to see.  Actually seeing it happen is just weird.  It took my mind a few seconds to register what happened.  Even now, I can't tell you how it happened.

Once my brain processed what it saw, I had that moment of panic, where you wonder what to do.  I had put on my four ways, as there was a car blocking the intersection now.  It seemed to me that I should call for help, so I dialed 9-1-1 for the first time.  A quite man answered, asking what my emergency was.  I explained that I had just seen an accident happen at the intersection of 501 and Seaboard Street.  He asked if I was involved.  I told him I wasn't and told him that the involved parties appeared to be fine, although one of the vehicles was sitting in the intersection, banged up and leaking fluid.  He asked me to describe both vehicles, which I did.  I did a poor job of it though.  I was a bit shocked, so I only gave him the colors and number of doors.*

Once he had that information, he transferred me to police dispatch, so they could get an officer out to the scene.  Once again, the phone was answered "911.  What's your emergency?"  This time, it was a lady.  I relayed the same information.  She then asked for my name and phone number, in case they needed to reach me in the future.

I had eventually rolled my windows down, so I could hear if anyone needed help.  During the call, I heard them asking if anyone had called 9-1-1, so I gestured and then told them I had them on the phone currently.  The dispatcher let me know that an officer was on the way.  I asked if they needed me to stick around, but the dispatcher said I didn't need to.

At this point, one of the girls from the more damaged vehicle came over to talk to me.  I let her know help was on the way and asked if she needed anything.  She just asked me if the light was green when she was hit.  I told her it was.  She said they were fine and needed nothing further from me.  At that point, I started trying to get into another lane, so I could get out of the way.

As I was driving down the road, I was a firetruck, an ambulance, and two police cars headed back toward the accident.  It couldn't have been much more than five minutes.  Of course, time gets wibbly wobbly when something like this happens.**

It seems to me that 9-1-1 is an amazing tool at our disposal that doesn't get the props it deserves.  I hope you never have to call it, but it's nice to know that it is there.  The people answering the phones are patient, and the officers and such that are responding do so very quickly.  Consider this a virtual fist bump to anyone that works for or in conjunction with 9-1-1.

*I feel like a total idiot, but that's okay.  Even though I was well out of harm's way, I'm still a little shaky.  I shouldn't be, but there you have it.

**I'm still not clear on all of the details.  I'm not sure which dispatcher actually got my information, and I don't recall if I spoke to the male or female dispatcher first.  I think what I recounted was correct, but I admit there may be some error.