Normalizing the Struggle with PTSD In Dispatchers

Written by Liz Salter, published March 9, 2021

Trigger warning: This blog contains real stories of 911 calls that can be a trigger for those who have lived through trauma. Please proceed with caution.

Don’t let anyone tell you that emergency dispatchers don’t have PTSD. The following is my personal struggle that I only recently realized.

I’ve been retired for two years from answering 911 calls for a major city on the west coast.

Up until tonight I haven’t given any thought about calls, never dreamed of them, heard them, then bam, a reminder of one incident that I was involved with by fielding calls hit me hard as it did 11 years ago when it happened. My head went right back in my pod, I didn’t take the actual call, but my pod partner had. I could tell by the tone in her voice that it wasn’t a good thing. You know that deep OMG voice, then she got real quite talking to the caller. That particular call was a parents nightmare, their daughter was missing.

As the information was being gathered amongst us all, our radio dispatchers were sending officers to the area responding quickly with the hope that the juvenile was just injured along the route that she had been on. We all held our collective breath each and every time a call came in with a little tip of some kind.

Unfortunately it took six days to find her body. I know each of us took a part of that family with us the day she was found. I will always remember it.

Today, when I realized it was the anniversary date, all I could do is cry. Cry for her parents, cry for her brother, cry for my officers, cry for her friends and community, for my coworkers as most of us are parents. Their child was murdered! That’s something that no one wants to have happened or be part of it. This family is stronger than I have ever seen during this horrible event. They have made things happen in honor of their daughter.

I’ve lost my only son but not in this horrific way. It hurts no matter the circumstances but someone took their child from them on purpose, that I can only imagine is the worst pain a parent could have happen to them. My loss was an accident, theirs was intentional.

There’s really nothing anyone can say or do for this family that hasn’t been done already, and yes, thank God the suspect was caught and is currently serving his time.

In my 22 years of dispatching, I’ve taken my share of these horrible events and each one still holds a little piece of my broken heart. I still hear the calls playing over and over in my head 22 years later if I allow it. It happens when something triggers it. I’ve had DV calls that were an active event going on but it doesn’t hit as hard. When I hear of a child missing, I hold my breath and pray that another family won’t go through anything like these calls that I’ve heard, worked and the end result, always the same. A child has been murdered. I hope and pray that any agency handling a call of this magnitude gets support and provides resources for all the dispatchers involved, the kind that I know officers get.

I was part of our Peer Support Team, I would reach out to my coworkers but because we are supposed to be the STRONGER person they (most) would just say “I’m good!” Or “I’ll get back to you later” and they never do. We have a Chaplin that comes through, sometimes an agency will send a pup in to give some love to our dispatchers and we will get some counseling as well. But it’s not necessarily enough, in my eyes.

When deciding whether a police 911 dispatcher or a radio dispatcher does or doesn’t have PTSD, think about what I just wrote. When you say we aren’t “First First Responders” how do you think the Police/Fire/EMS know where to go? It’s because we talked with the families, heard all the drama going on while we gather all that information and dispatch the much needed assistance. Some of us have had guns fired in our ears while the caller is still on the phone trying to commit suicide. Sadly some completed it, but some survived. We hear when a family member came home to find their family member hanging, we have to instruct them to cut them down, we get medics to roll out on the sheer chance that we can save that person. We’ve heard or still hear that parent that just found their child not breathing, that scream is not something you forget. When I lost my son, he was on the East Coast, I was on the West Coast in the hospital ironically getting ready for surgery. The nurses and doctors told me that I didn’t have a horrible reaction like most parents. I was numb, but because of this job, I think I pushed it to the back of my head like we have done some many times before. I think I compartmentalized it. There are times we just hang up and go to the next emergency call to send help to the next person who needs it. Never knowing the outcome on, I’d say, 90 percent of the calls unless we ask.

But to say we don’t have PTSD… I call BS! Tonight I believe I have it , no, I know I suffer from it.

But until someone believes that we suffer too, the “help” isn’t really there. We need support groups where people understand what we do.

We need to find those counselors that know what we have gone through, what we continue to go through even after we retire. And no, I don’t want to be hypnotized to get rid of the trauma, it’s something that will be a part of me forever. (Yes that’s been offered in the past.)

Technology will bring a new challenge to dispatchers as they bring in text to 911 or video so that the crime occurring will be seen in real time - the dispatchers become witnesses and experience much more trauma.

My heart goes out to each and every emergency dispatchers that suffers day in and day out with this. I will always be part of the Thin Gold Line for as long as I have a breath in me.

Thank you, Liz for sharing your story. If you are interested in writing a blog, please email 911derWomen@gmail.com. Sign up for our newsletter on our homepage to stay up to date with 911der Women programming, exclusive content and blog updates. Click here and scroll to the bottom!