I kicked out a few 999s in my day and responded to a bunch more, but the one that sticks in my mind was one that happened in 2004.
It was a typical summer evening shift with priority 2 calls backed up columns deep and we'd be lucky to even get to a priority 3 or lower. A priority 2 all call went out for a loud family argument at notorious trailer park where family trees were nothing more than tap roots running deep, IQs were measured in celsius, and the banjo music ran loud and out of tune. Of course, no one is available or doesn't want to break to take the call.
Since no one answered up, I headed down. As I drove, the call was revised into criminal damage and then into a physical fight. One other officer broke away and was inbound with an ETA of about 20 minutes.
I parked just around the corner and as I walked up, I could hear stuff crashing around and yelling. As I walked to the south end of the trailer, I hear a thud and a young adult male yells out obscenities and 'that's what you get, *****'. Crying and screaming from a female ensues.
A second later, I am showered with broken glass as the male jumps out of the southern window and lands almost on top of me as I approach. He's covered with blood and the fight is on. After a few seconds, I realize that this guy is fighting me while under the influence of something and it isn't alcohol. He tries to emulate a MMA style and after I take him to the ground, I reach for my remote mike and realize it isn't on my shirt. I reach down and hit the E-tone button to get the second wave there faster.
The next thing I hear is, '[unit ID] - reset your radio'. I am still engaged full on with Wilbur White Trash and don't have time to disengage and search for the darn thing. I again hit the E-tone button and hope that the clueless fat moron at the Comm console puts down the Ranch dipped snacks and sends me some cops now. Again, I hear '[unit ID] - you're tying up the frequency. reset your portable!' Meanwhile, the trailer park has emptied out into the street and I am being surrounded by hostile associates, relatives, and warrant holders looking for some revenge.
Pissed off, I pull my Taser, manage to rip off the cartridge, and then drive stun Wilbur at T2 on his spine. This locks him up enough that I can yank the radio out of its holster and broadcast: '[unit ID] - Get off the radio and shut up! I am Code 999, repeat Code 999 and surrounded by hostiles. Inbound officers... do not approach from the south! Outbound fire going south in One!'
The male Comm supervisor comes on the radio and clears the freq and verifies my situation. Knowing that he was a 'Nam grunt, I confirm - 'Comm - Prairie Fire! Engaging hostiles to the south. Friendlies - north!'
The bad guy is covered in blood and face down on the ground struggling to get me off of his back, broken glass is in him, and I can't tell if I'm bleeding. The hostile crowd is wavering because of the Glock now pointed at them and the sirens in the distance are getting louder by the second.
All ended well and the Comm supervisor said it was just like being back in the Corps.
Several months before, we had gotten new mobile and portable radios. The E-tone buttons were poorly placed by the installer and kept getting accidentally activated. Someone in Comm got complacent and lazy, someone else nearly paid the price.
Imported from the future in 1984. Returned to the past in 2007
Dear God, this is one of the dumbest ideas I've ever heard. It's got to rank right up there with CALEA. -Pepper45
Last edited by blueiron; 12-11-2012 at 17:14..