Emergencies

It’s been a particularly hectic day here at the World Headquarters of American Handgunner Magazine, with whom we share office space. Actually, we don’t really share space here, we’re assigned a couple cubicals in the converted basement next to the old discarded copy machines, burned out computer monitors and IBM Selectric typewriters.

After weeks of waiting for authorization and paperwork similar in scope to an officer involved shooting, I was granted a two-hour pass to be admitted to accounting’s floor at the complex. Suddenly, whooping sirens sounded at ear-splitting dB levels. Unbelievably bright strobe lights were flashing. The blue–white lights were brighter than the explosions of the thousand pounders from a night B52 raid over Hanoi in the 70s. They were enough to cause seizures in buildings half-a-mile away. Employees were scurrying about frenetically.

I stopped one out-of-breath young accounting professional as he ran full-speed down the hallway and asked, “What’s wrong?” His white starched oxford shirt showed new stains in the armpits and even his thin black tie was askew. The look of pure fear and panic shone in his eyes. You could even smell the adrenaline dump. “The main account receivables copier is out of paper and it looks like the toner may be dangerously low too — oh, the humanity,” he blurted and ran off.

It became immediately apparent that cops — even old retired ones — have a different perspective on what constitutes an emergency than do the rest of the folks out there. The saying we have around the office now is: If there’s no arterial bleeding, it’s not an emergency.

What we have to remember is people call us when what they usually can control is out-of-control. To them, it is an emergency — a real one. They are at their wits end and in a blind ass panic. They just don’t have the same perspective we have. It impacts their lives and they need rescue.

I’ve heard some people say, perception is reality and this is a glaring example of that. So, perhaps we need to be more in-tune with what concerns the folks we serve. We are problem solvers. We’re hired for our ability to think and we further develop critical thinking through our experiences in the field.

An overflowing toilet at 0300 isn’t something we’d call for cover on, but for that 75 year-old widow in the third floor walkup, it’s the worst thing that could happen since her husband of 50 years died six months ago. Take some time and help. That’s why we get the “Big Bucks” folks. And remember while you are calm and collected and all those around you are loosing their composure and in a panic, you probably don’t have a full understanding of what’s really happening.