I'd settled in for the night after all the trick-or-treaters were done, expecting to hear some kooky stuff on the police scanner for a Halloween night. Before this incident, there were some giggly moments here and there about the random rabble rousers in their Halloween garb, but mostly it was a surprisingly quiet night. Standard traffic stops, a couple parties that were too noisy, routine stuff.
Then I heard the 0:00 call come in and everything changed. Once in awhile you'll hear a civilian saying something that gets picked up by the radio - crying, yelling, vomiting (really!), etc. That was my first thought. Looking at the text there it looks very plain and obvious, but the live call was spoken so fast and with such distress that it was very hard to understand. There were also other conversations going on right then so it was an sonic mashup. Six seconds go by before the conversations pause and the dispatcher has a chance to even investigate. Twenty two seconds from the first sign something may be wrong before we hear from the officer again, and then it's only a sob - we still don't know if it's even an officer on the radio.
Twenty two seconds is a long time when something horrible is happening. Then double that to 0:37 and 0:42. Imagine waiting thirty seven seconds to hear from your loved one in a life or death situation. It is torture and fear and horror and prayer all mixed together. Sitting on my couch, my heart was thumping in my throat while the rest of my body was frozen, the only parts needing to work were my ears.
1:08 and 1:24 were tragic, pained requests that knotted my stomach even tighter. The transcript doesn't show the intertwined flurry of officers declaring themselves in-route, the attempts at describing the suspect vehicle and last known direction, the directives for setting up a containment permiter in the hopes of catching the perpetrator(s). But during every single second from 0:00, SPD responded with astonishing focus and professionalism.
As the clock ticked on and the likelihood of catching those responsible seemed to dwindle, my adrenaline gave way to the pain and anguish for everyone affected. That night I'd heard something more horrific than anything I'd experienced before.
My thoughts and prayers go out to the victim's family and loved ones, to Officer Sweeney, to the SPD and SFD, the dispatchers that do an incredible job as well, as well as to the people of Seattle in general.
