Scanned Darkly

We sat there in the newsroom a few minutes before midnight, mesmerized by the drama unfolding over the scanner. The male-voice called calmly to the dispatcher, “I’m rolling code-3 with an unconscious man in my backseat.”

It was obviously an officer — we couldn’t tell whether he was a “County Mounty,” a “Super Trooper,” or perhaps a “Toy Cop.” But we knew he was en route towards Sparks from USA Parkway on Interstate 80 jus’ west of Fernley.

I have driven that stretch of road, having worked for a now defunct ambulance service — and it can be very challenging after dark.

All radio traffic had come to an abrupt halt — save for the dispatcher, who was sending an ambulance to meet the officer. Silence like that can be terribly deafening.

“I have to pull over — I can’t tell if he’s breathing or not,” the officer stated in near-monotone voice.

“Is he responsive?” the dispatcher asked.

Pause — we waited — hanging, suspended by the wait. Then he answered, “Barely.”

“10-4,” the woman behind the dispatch mic returned, adding, “Meet the ambulance at the Mustang exit.”

“Roger,” the officer answered, calmly including, “I’m code-3, westbound.”

We never found out what happened as all radio traffic ceased between the officer traveling at a high-rate of speed, with lights and siren announcing the urgency of his mission. I can only assume he met the ambulance and made the transfer, turning what was a victim into a patient.

In the end, it didn’t matter whether he was a sheriff’s deputy, a state trooper or a security patrol officer — he was there when needed.  And though I don’t know him and probably never will — thank you — whoever you are.