By Julie Ann Grimm
The Santa Fe New Mexican (New Mexico)
Copyright 2006 The New Mexican
Indicators for all 15 phone lines coming into the emergency call center were flashing red. They had lit up in a matter of seconds.
It was March 17, the morning of the crash at Concentra Medical Centers. Santa Fe dispatcher Betty Jo Manzanares-Hart had witnesses and victims waiting for her help on every available phone line.
In her decade on the job, Manzanares-Hart, 29, has seen that happen only rarely. This time, the lines stayed busy for hours.
Through her headset, she heard a constant murmur of radio traffic. She had to concentrate to keep track of each responding ambulance, police officer and rescue engine.
Three people died and eight suffered injuries when a woman drove a large pickup through the front window of the medical clinic in a busy strip mall at 720 St. Michael’s Drive.
“It was hard at first to figure out what was going on,” said Manzanares-Hart, who was at the start of a dispatcher’s typical 12-hour shift that day. “It was crazy. There were just so many calls. Every business called.”
Manzanares-Hart was the dispatcher who took the call from the daughter of Janelle Rodriguez, who was trapped under the truck with her son, David. Both died even though rescuers tried to use inflatable devices to lift the truck safely. Daughter Leann Aguilar had been waiting outside the clinic and dialed 911 on her cell phone.
“When I picked up the phone, I heard a hysterical lady who was reporting an accident where her mom and brother were possibly involved,” Manzanares-Hart recalls.
Just like every other call, the dispatcher started punching information from the caller into the computer, asking a series of questions that pop up on the screen and quickly recording the answers.
As she did so, she paused for a few seconds to report the information to emergency responders over the radio. Computer software uses a map database to determine which ambulances, police or fire engines to send and how fast they should respond. Because of the severity and scope of the incident, the call was a priority Delta, the second highest classification for emergency response.
“While I was gathering information from this young lady, I could hear her yelling for her mom, reassuring her that she already had called for help,” she said.
“I wanted to hug her through the phone. I couldn’t. So when I hung up the phone, I said a silent prayer for her and her family,” Manzanares-Hart said. At home late that night, she couldn’t get Aguilar’s screaming voice out of her head. The next day, she drove by the destroyed clinic where visitors had placed flowers and notes.
Staffing shortages
Manzanares-Hart decided to become a dispatcher at age 19. She realized after high school that her plan to be a hairdresser wasn’t right for her, so she took the advice of her firefighter brother-in-law and applied for the job. She instantly liked it.
“I was very excited. I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to come back,” she said of her first day at work. “I wanted a scanner at home because I wanted to learn so fast. I wanted to know the codes and know what was going on.”
Call-center supervisor Becky Martinez said people are either crazy about the job or they don’t like it. But she has trouble keeping the call center fully staffed.
Dispatchers have to pass a background check and a computer test, then take state-certification tests and refresher courses regularly. They work long hours and have lots of opportunity for overtime. Right now, the center has 14 vacancies among its 42 dispatchers, which means it’s operating at a 33 percent staff shortage. Like the leaders of most of the region’s emergency services, Martinez is using overtime to meet minimum staffing requirements.
Thanks to recent increases, dispatchers start at $10 per hour and can earn 10 percent increases with additional training. Supervisors make upward of $20 an hour. Manzanares-Hart said more young people would go after the job if it paid more.
Finding balance
When Manzanares-Hart is sitting at one of the desks at the Santa Fe Regional Emergency Communications Center, three large computer monitors dwarf her face. The lights are dimmed and the window shades are drawn.
“Santa Fe nine-one-one, what is the location of your emergency?” she recites for the 50th time.
Caller-identification systems usually show the dispatcher where a person is calling from, and it’s the most crucial piece of information they need. The computer system is constantly updated to keep up with rapid growth along the fringe of the city limits and into the county.
Martinez said technicians are reviewing the “master street-address guide” this summer to make sure it’s current.
Callers can expect a series of questions for even the most minor calls. And sometimes operators get attitude from those in crisis who don’t understand why there are so many inquiries.
Dispatchers are trained to take control of the situation and try to get the most information they can, Martinez said.
For Manzanares-Hart, the job has the right balance. As badly as she feels about the losses, she said her job can also fill her with joy.
“I have had good calls like delivering a baby over the phone,” said Manzanares-Hart, mother of a 3-year-old boy. She still wonders what the parents named the child. “I’ll never forget that, hearing that baby cry. It was awesome.”