Bearing Witness

The call came in as an active dispute. I heard yelling and the sounds of a physical struggle, but I didn’t yet understand what was happening. Then I heard a car door slam. The struggle stopped. After that, there was only her voice. She pleaded for her life, begging him to let her and her baby go. I realized I was listening to a kidnapping in real time.

Officers were sent to the address where the call originated, but they found nothing and closed the call while I was still on the line. The car was already moving, and our location tools weren’t updating. I had to rely entirely on her, but she wasn’t responding to my texts.

For about thirty minutes, I listened to her plead. Her baby cried in the background. I felt helpless. Tears began to form in my eyes.

Then, she texted me back. She sent cross streets. I immediately called my supervisor over to have the call reopened and officers reassigned. The car was still moving, so we relied on landmarks, street signs, and anything she could see.

I had asked her to keep the line open while we texted so I could hear what was happening. It didn’t last. About an hour in, the call dropped. My heart sank. I anxiously waited for another message.

When it came, she said the vehicle was stationary. This was our chance.

I asked her to describe everything she could see. Restaurant signs. A billboard. Other parked cars. A city bus.

I asked for the bus number. That detail mattered. We contacted bus dispatch, who gave us an exact location. Officers began checking nearby parking lots. 

Roughly an hour and a half after the call came in, officers finally made contact. She and her baby were safe.

I stepped away from my desk but left the text thread open. When I came back, the last message I saw from her was simple.

Thank you.