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Emergency Call
With my husband in danger every time he left for work, I found new ways to trust God.
Renae Bottom | posted 9/30/2008 03:59PM
 1 of 4

photograph by Erik Stenbakken
"It doesn't look like he wants to pull over. I'll be in pursuit, two miles north of Highway 6 on the Sand Draw Road," my husband, Mark, radioed from his patrol car. He described the vehicle he was chasing down a lonely gravel road in the rural Nebraska county where he served as deputy sheriff. I noted the time and content of his message on my log sheet. I was the communications officer on duty at the sheriff's department. As dispatcher, I provided the radio link for emergency services in the county that afternoon.
It was almost twilight. The speeding pickup that had careened past him on the narrow road continued its flight. My husband radioed to report the progress of the chase.
I mentally plotted his location on the large map mounted beside the radio console and marveled at the calm determination in his voice. Alone in the courthouse basement, I felt anything but calm. What would my husband encounter as the chase unfolded? Why was this driver fleeing from an officer in a marked patrol vehicle?
It was obvious that the driver and two passengers, in a truck with out-of-state license plates, didn't want to talk with a deputy sheriff that afternoon. All the classic scenarios flashed through my mind: The vehicle was stolen. They had drugs in the truck. Maybe a shotgun behind the seat. None of these images offered reassurance, considering that the officer in pursuit was the same man who emptied my dishwasher that morning.
But I forced my voice to remain steady as I responded to Mark's radio traffic. The driver of the pickup had crossed the highway and was still fleeing southward. Thankfully, the chase didn't last much longer. Heads-up cooperation from a Nebraska Game and Parks officer and two state troopers in the area soon brought the speeding pickup to a halt. The driver, drunk and belligerent, was taken into custody. The two passengers were questioned and released.
I finished the entry on my log sheet and counted a few more gray hairs than I'd had when I came to work that day. I was grateful that Mark, and everyone else, was safe. Only eight more hours to go.
That's the way it is with law enforcement. Most of what happens on any given shift is routine. But in an instant, the "normal" part of the job can be swallowed up in a tidal wave of chaos.
And when a volatile situation arises for a single deputy covering 950 square miles of territory, the closest back-up is often more than 20 minutes away. For a law enforcement officer working alone, a lot can go wrong in 20 seconds—20 minutes can seem an eternity.
It's one of the unfortunate realities of Mark's job. But it's a reality we've learned to deal with over the past 13 years.
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