Nothing Good Happens After Midnight E-Book

Phillip Tomasso

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

After two decades in the corporate world, author Phillip Tomasso found himself tossed into the realm of public safety. He went from handling legal employment issues to working for a busy 911 Center.

In this collection, Tomasso shares impactful stories from thirteen years of dispatching on the overnight shift.

The work is salted and peppered with funny, heartbreaking, quirky and bizarre renditions of actual 911 calls, interactions of dispatchers between calls, as well as life and the attempt to find and sustain balance outside of a 911 Center.

Leseprobe

NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER MIDNIGHT

CONFESSIONS OF A 911 DISPATCHER

PHILLIP TOMASSO

Copyright (C) 2022 Phillip Tomasso

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Edited by Graham (Fading Street Services)

Cover art by CoverMint

The conversations in the book all come from the author’s recollections, though they are not written to represent word-for-word transcripts. Rather, the author has retold them in a way that evokes the feeling and meaning of what was said and in all instances, the essence of the dialogue is accurate. While all stories in this book are true, some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER MIDNIGHT

“When the desperate call for help the first voice they hear is a dispatcher’s, prompting, probing, trying to figure out what the hell’s going on. Of course, dispatchers can’t see the whole picture and must trust their guides—you, the caller—to show them what’s happening. That’s how Tomasso tells his own story, abrupt and chaotic, zigging perhaps where you expected him to zag and the result is a book that reads with the energy of the world it’s depicting. But amidst the mad delirium is a guy grabbing you by the shirt collar to say hey, I’ve got a story to tell. A good one. And he’s right—this is a damn good story. I recommend you listen.” —Kevin Hazzard, author of American Sirens and A Thousand Naked Strangers

“Each night, call after call, they handle the traumas, the domestics, the diabetic crashes, the car accidents, the heart attacks, the overdoses, the fires, the drownings, the deaths. Every call for every emergency, sometimes quick fire, and always on repeat. Tomasso’s memoir about this under-seen, underappreciated agency is equal parts illuminating, self-effacing, honest, and hilarious.” —James and J.K. Pace, authors of Pulse: A Paramedic’s Walk Along the Lines of Life and Death

“As I read the pages of Tomasso’s book I was reminded of the hard work done by the dispatchers and call takers in 911 centers across the globe. Accurate and on point, Tomassohas captured the day-to-day life within the comm center and out. Every day our 911 professionals make a difference in the lives of those they serve. Thank you for your service.” —Stephen P. Cusenz, Executive Deputy Director, City of Rochester Emergency Communications Department (retired)

“This enthralling tale of life in a busy 911 center as told by one of their own kept my attention and left me wanting to hear more. As a retired 911 call-taker, dispatcher, and supervisor myself, I found Tomasso’s recollections believable, informative, and captivating. I would loan my copy to friends and relatives so they could learn more about what my life was like when I served in those roles.” —Christopher Martin, Village Justice, 911 Supervisor (retired)

"NGHAM is a fast-paced, brutally honest depiction of the equally high-speed life of a first responder. Tomasso shares with us his stories of loss and wins and the memories that will forever stick with him, forever change him. His words took me on an emotional rollercoaster, remembering the ups and downs of my own personal calls and the brothers and sisters I responded with." —Shelby Carr, Retired Firefighter/EMT

“One word, groundbreaking. Not only for the 911 community but also for the friends and families of those wanting a one-on-one glimpse into the world we live in. Truly a one-of-a-kind book. For us, for the friends and family, and for the curious citizen … this is 911, and you won’t regret this read!”—Morgan Gleisle, 911 Dispatcher

“A fantastic look into the lives of a 911 dispatcher, Phillip delivers on letting us inside his world of controlled chaos. You laugh at some of the silliness, tear up at some of the sadness, and feel the emotional trauma that dispatchers experience. Confessions of a 911 Dispatcher is a great read for anyone looking to understand what happens on the other side of the line.” —Joshua Taylor, 911 Dispatcher II

“As a first responder for almost two decades, Tomasso gives a rare insight into the world of dispatchers. Sometimes referred to as ‘the first, first responders,’ but more often than not they are overlooked in the first responder field. As Tomasso evolves in this autobiography, so does my appreciation for those working the phones and the radio.” —Travis Dobrowsky, Firefighter/EMT

“Tomasso gives an honest glimpse into the chaotic life of a 911 dispatcher. Many emotions run through you as you read about the good days, bad days, and absolutely tragic days that a dispatcher experiences. This is what it is like to be the very first, first responder. The voice you hear in some of the worst moments of your life. Truly an amazing read for anyone who wants to gain a better understanding of the real 911.” —Katie Kast, 911 Dispatcher

“I am not a reader. I read this book in two sittings. There were definitely some chuckles, and I related. I have responded to many calls similar to what Tomasso describes. He hits on points. Some people you can help, and some, unfortunately, do not want help. I truly enjoyed the memoir. It opened my eyes to the daily chaos behind the headset. I am truly thankful for my dispatchers.” —Joel Messore, Rochester Police Department, Police Officer

“First off, as a career EMS'er this book captured the "other side" very well. OEC is a perspective that is easy to forget and hard to understand. The First Responder battle of the scales; family vs. work vs. sleep vs, sanity was spot on. The effects of absorbing so much trauma and drama although physically disconnected from it is a side not often talked about. Phil did a great job of summing up the feelings and states of calls without having to tell a ton of stories, although I kinda wanted to hear more. I know there are some good ones left untold. May the phone call be clear, short, and to the point. May the radio transmission be even shorter. May you get to punch out before the sun gets too high in the sky.” —Nikki Ladue, Paramedic, Irondequoit Ambulance EMS

“One man’s road to a new job and a new life. The book tells the story of Tomasso’s path to 911 dispatching, and the family he finds and becomes a part of no matter how dysfunctional. If you have ever wondered what it takes to work as a 911 dispatcher then learn from the real deal in his wonderful, funny, and oftentimes heartbreaking memoir." —Trisha Perry, Mindjacked Book Reviews

“I started as a 911 Fire Dispatcher / Tele-communicator and am now a Rochester Police Officer. I’ve experienced the emotion, chaos, and struggle Tomasso writes about from both sides of the phone and radio. Exposure to tragedy brings trauma—the caller’s trauma becomes your trauma and leaves a lasting impact on your life. Day in and day out, First Responders show up and Do. Their. Job. Many times without thanks and rarely learning the outcome of whatever they dealt with. It’s important to remember the sacrifice made each day by everyone in the field. I pray you never have to call in an emergency, but I hope after reading this memoir when you hear 9-1-1 what’s the address of your emergency you take solace knowing strong, brave, hardworking men and women, just like Tomasso, are ready to help you on the worst day of your life. Phil, thank you for your friendship and your service.”—Steve Tucker, Rochester Police Department, Police Officer

“Nothing Good Happens After Midnight’… Not just a title, but a true sentiment. After nearly 16 years in Public Safety, in different roles and positions, I’ve worn a few hats. No task has ever been more challenging than that of the Emergency Dispatcher/Telecommunicator. The true heroes, and the first, first responder. This book gives great insight of what it means to tote that thin (very thin) Gold line. The stories told here are just a glimpse into what a 911 Operators and Dispatchers see and deal with. I will never forget where I came from, and where it all started for me. A good read and highly recommended for any and all.” —Michael Lonville; Firefighter/EMT, Deputy Sheriff, 911 Dispatcher

This one is for my 911 Family

And, as always,

For my “normal” Family

But, I would also like to dedicate this work to

those we lost from our 911 center

during my time with ECD (2009 - Present)

Tomasz Kaczówka (1993 - 2012)

Andy Jennings (1972 - 2015)

Marty Kester (1962 - 2016)

Craig Warshawsky (1970 - 2021)

Janet Jordan (1986 - 2022)

We like to say We are Here First When Seconds Count.

We are the Gold Stripe on the Responder Flag,

Between the Blue, the Red, the White, and the Green.

We are often the forgotten first FIRST Responders,

Overlooked, and too often, the Underappreciated

Voice Behind the Radio …

—Phillip Tomasso III

CONTENTS

Preface

Say Cheese

Stay With Me on This!

Some Kind of Disclaimer

Kodak

Ironic

The Test

Home Of The Good Burger

How is This Going to Work?

First Day

Home of the Good Burger

It’s A Funeral

There is Blood Everywhere

More Calls …

Automatic Fire Alarm

I Can’t Do This

Radio Ear

Who’d You Kill Last Night

You Are Cordially Invited … to Stay

Yes, We Have No Bananas

Pure Shenanigans

Ten-Seventy-Eight

Let’s Dispatch Police Cars

10-9

All Out of Police Cars

Agita

More Unbelievable Calls

I Called 911 Once … Once

A Working Fire

New CAD

Still No New Pope

(Candid) Stories from the Fire Side

Some Calls You Just Never Forget

The Language Line

Mental Health Arrest

What is the Worst Call

Do the Right Thing

Libations (Choir Practice) / Relationships

Finding the Balance

Looking Toward Retirement

Afterward

Special Thanks

Glossary of Terms

Sample Platoon Calendar

Current Monroe County Fire Departments

Current Monroe County Ambulance Corps

Current Monroe County Police Departments

About the Author

PREFACE

The one thing I am certain you will notice is the telling of the story as a whole is disjointed. It is not linear. I start at Point A, hit Point F on the bend, and might curve around to include Point P, but I will—I will, I promise—end up reaching Point B.

Besides, linear is boring. My life, depicted in the pages below, is anything but linear. My lines zig and zag, and cross over one another, as it should be.

This book, initially, is meant for 911 employees and First Responders. We are a different breed. Sometimes we don’t understand what it means to fit in with people who don’t also do the job. We have our own language. Our own unique sense of humor. General readers may find parts of the memoir offensive, maybe because of the language, or because of the blatant facts put forth. I will not apologize for anything written. You have to understand we take the work we do seriously. Sometimes we laugh now but cry later. We have a dark sense of humor because the calls we deal with day in and day out take a toll. Humor is a way to keep reality at bay, for a while, anyway. It is not that we are uncaring or insensitive. We each struggle in our own way just to deal with things. Laughing is sometimes an easy coping method. I even have the theater symbol tattooed on my left forearm. Only with creepy clowns. Laugh now. Cry Later. It hits home. It means something, and the ink is a constant reminder that I am not always okay.

When another 911 employee and First Responder reads my story I want them to relate. If I fill the pages with fluffy, literary language, they won’t buy it. I don’t mean they won’t buy the book; I mean they won’t buy I am for real. However, this could be an important book for the general public, and for the friends and family of 911 employees and First Responders.

This will be a book about the search for balance. The balance between working, family, and life. The balance between taking a call for a car parked on the wrong side of the road, and then taking a call where you have to instruct an eighty-year-old woman as she performs CPR on her husband of fifty years, who she found face down in the kitchen on the floor next to the refrigerator.

I’m not here to complain about management. Anyone, at any company, can do that.

The truth is, as Dispatchers we have outside (and inside) forces working against us. We are always understaffed, overworked, and continually dead tired. Some departments and agencies insist on playing for their own team, instead of working together. We often work with one hand forcibly tied behind our backs, as the resources we have access to (like the internet) are extremely limited or more comparable to Little Tikes tools, instead of Craftsman.

So, do I throw a shot here and there, a dig for the fun of poking the bear? I do. It wouldn’t be genuine if I didn’t. Do I blatantly pick on anyone, anything? I do not. It is not necessary. That is not the point of the book.

The point of the book is to find balance in a nonlinear, disjointed life, and in a nonlinear, disjointed career.

Honestly, I am fortunate in my career as a 911 Dispatcher, because I actually love what I do, regardless of the management team (just a playful dig. C’mon now, don’t take me too seriously. I surely try not to).

SAY CHEESE

STAY WITH ME ON THIS!

The thing I worry about most while writing this all down is losing the attention of readers from the get-go. I continually ask myself: Who am I to think my life is worth writing about? Who out there even cares to read the ghastly, humorous, and, oftentimes, outrageous stories I am about to tell?

It’s conceited at best, and maybe narcissistic at the root, but makes me wonder if all memoirs and autobiographies fall between the two. I don’t really read them, so I wouldn’t actually know.

What I do know is I wasn’t a president, a millionaire, an actor, a singer, or a songwriter. I am not anyone with any political power or scientific insight. I never invented anything, didn’t win awards, I was not a heroic soldier, did not fight in any wars, and I sure as hell was not an athlete.

So who am I? Why write this book?

My insecurities are sincere and genuine, and yet here I am. I have been jotting down notes for this book for the better part of twelve years. And now I am committed to the writing of my story, and daily, find myself plugging away at the keyboard, categorizing life as a dispatcher into essay-like chapters. Formatting and reformatting ideas inside my brain have been like working tiles on a sliding puzzle. There is a big picture, and I’ll get there. Eventually.

Regardless, I sit at the computer for hour after hour getting my career at 911 into order. And yet the question begs, it nags at me, asking—why write this book?

The reason is simpler than I thought. For the answer, you’ll have to read along, and by the end, let’s see if we come to the same conclusion.

Additionally, I plan on writing this entire book as if you and I were just sitting around in a bar, swapping stories over beers. Except it’s all about me, and I can’t hear a word you are saying.

I guess what I am asking is if you’ll just stay with me on this. I am going to do my damnedest to deliver a fresh, raw, and honest look into my life and into the life of a 911 Dispatcher.

Not all dispatchers. Not even some dispatchers.

Just the revelations of one dispatcher.

This dispatcher.

Me.

SOME KIND OF DISCLAIMER

Perhaps some kind of disclaimer is needed. I want to put one here, in spite of, or despite, the cookie-cutter disclaimer found at the start of most books. The plan is, to tell the truth about everything. The problem is, the truth told will be from my viewpoint. The way I saw my life as it unfolded. Other real people will be in this book. Some, I will use their real names because I have been given permission by certain people to do so. Many, I will have changed their names. Could be a lot of reasons why I’ve changed a name. The top reason? There is a good chance I just can’t remember their name well enough to ask for permission.

I am notorious with names. Hey You. Buddy. Peanut.Partner. Those are some of my closest friends. (Not really. Do you get the idea, though?) Other reasons I’ve changed a person’s name? They didn’t want to be mentioned. Maybe they felt as if appearing in this particular book could put their job as a telecommunicator/dispatcher/supervisor with the City of Rochester at risk.

They needn’t worry, I don’t think?

Bullying and targeting are from the bowels of the Employment Dark Ages and, most certainly, are not anything that happens in today’s workforce society [salt with sarcasm, liberally]. Regardless, wishes to remain unnamed will be honored.

The last thing I want is wrong impressions. This book isn’t meant as an exposé by any stretch of the imagination. The focus of the book will be on the life of a Dispatcher and my life outside of dispatching. Will some feathers get ruffled, I assume so. Not with malicious intent. I am most hopeful family members and friends of 911 employees, and first responders, read this work. It may help them see why we work most weekends, miss holidays, and why some nights (or mornings, or afternoons) when we get home from work all we want is a beer and the television. Or a nap. Or to simply take a walk around the block. Or cut the lawn with headphones on. Why would we rather spend time alone decompressing, instead of talking about our day?

I still have a few years before retirement, and the last thing I want is to accidentally place my own job in jeopardy. With that said, I am still going to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but my truth.

If you are looking for crazy, wild, funny, terrifying, and haunting 911 calls, you’ll get them. They’re in here.

You will also get my take on those calls. Insight into how they have changed and reshaped who I am.

We are going to look at life on the floor—the operations floor—of a 911 center that fields just over 1.2 million calls per year, as well as life outside of work.

Okay.

With the disclaimer hammered home, I think the best thing I can do now is just dive right in. Unfortunately, like most stories, this one doesn’t begin with my working at the Emergency Communications Department for the City of Rochester. We’ll get there, but not without starting where all great stories start at the beginning.

No. No. No.

I am not going to start with the cliche of having been born in Rochester, New York on June 3, 1970, at St. Mary’s Hospital. No need for mentioning the 3rd had been a Wednesday, and twenty-seven years before St. Mary’s, a Catholic hospital riddled with nuns and brothers and priests as staff, reorganized into primarily a Brain Injury Rehabilitation Unit in a partnership with Unity Health Systems. Facts like that bore me to write, and I imagine bore you to read. While completely true and accurate, they are irrelevant. Don’t you think?

KODAK

It makes far more sense to jump ahead another twenty-one years from the glorious day of my birth, to when I first started working at the Eastman Kodak Company. Let’s look more closely at November 1991.

Damn. I didn’t want to do this. It’s not a loss of focus. Just a readjustment. Let me back this up a fraction more. A quick sidebar, something of a necessary footnote, if you will.

After my freshman year at SUNY Brockport, I failed out. This occurred in late spring 1989. The goal had been to master the Criminal Justice program, earn my bachelor’s degree, and land a job as a police officer.

Early on in the first semester, I learned that because of my poor eyesight, I’d never pass a police physical. I made terrible choices after the news and gave up. I concentrated on partying instead of studying. I didn’t exactly fail out. They placed me on academic probation and after the completion of freshman year, I just never returned.

I bounced from job to job for a while, until one day I got a call from someone from Kodak Human Resources.

I remember when the Eastman Kodak Company thrived as its own city within the city of Rochester. There were 145,000 employees worldwide (at its peak).

Hiring me happened just before the digital era destroyed George Eastman’s empire, having been informed I would work in maintenance mopping floors, emptying garbage cans, and scrubbing toilets. Armed with only a high school education I accepted the position. Without a crystal ball, and no way of knowing the damage digital technology would inflict, I figured, hey, at least I got a foot in Kodak’s door.

Turns out, when I arrived for orientation at Kodak, they had a different job in mind for me. I would work as a Film Tester for Black & White, in a hub at Kodak Park, in Building 28. The hub, known as Central Test, sat centered around the rooms where giant rolls of emulsion were coated in layers. Samples cut from rolls during the start, middle, and end of the coating process were sent in light-tight canisters through snaking air tube systems to us for a battery of testing for any imperfections on each coated roll.

In my new position that didn’t involve cleaning toilets, I read entire novels on nearly every shift I worked. We worked twelve-hour shifts. Two day shifts, two night shifts, and three and a half days off. Wasn’t a bad deal if you overlooked how the schedule wreaked havoc on my insides, destroyed good eating habits, and made it near impossible to maintain any kind of normal sleeping pattern.

During the nineteen years I worked for Kodak, I knew luck stayed on my side. I got to do some moving about within the company. I next ventured into Building 2 where I trained in cutting similar film samples into 35mm strips and running a different variety of tests for quality control and consistency.

Eventually, I took a job in an assembly factory-style area, run at the Elmgrove Plant in the heart of the Gates suburb.

I was married with three kids, at this point. The three kids I still have. The wife, not so much.

The posted Assembly Position listed daytime hours. Monday through Friday. Six in the morning until 2:30 P.M. The idea I could work a more normal schedule made my (then) wife very happy. I admit during the interview for this position I may have lied some. The department needed a handy employee. Like really handy. With tools, and measuring. And tools. Did I already mention that?

The way I saw it? Just the weekend before I put together a lawn mower, one of those you take out of a box, you secure the wheels, and affix the handle to the base. Feeling quite handy after successfully puzzling together a lawnmower, I didn’t feel as if I stretched the truth much during the interview.

I had stretched the truth, of course. Just, at the time, it didn’t feel that way.

Oh, how wrong I had been. And it didn’t take management long to realize I was in over my head. Way over my head. Like, I knew I was drowning, and I couldn’t see a life preserver anywhere.