CPD 25-0103946. McDonald's.

911 transcript. November 04, 2025.  

D: dispatch, C: caller, O: offender, P: police

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D: 911, what's your emergency?

C: I'm at McDonald's, my mom is freaking out, she won't stop screaming and there's a bunch of kids and--there were a bunch, I mean, mostly they left--and she's yelling at them and saying if they're going to heaven or hell, she's like following this woman into the parking lot--

D: Sir, which McDonald's are you at?

C: Reeder Road, across from the grocery store. 

D: What is your phone number?

C: [redacted] um, my name is [redacted] [unintelligible due to loud yelling in background]

D: Thank you. I've dispatched an officer to your location. What is your mother's name? Can you describe her?

C: Edie [redacted]. She's 41, thin, white, short brown hair, wearing jeans and a Ducks hoodie. --She's coming back in the building, she's still screaming, should I stay? I don't want them to shoot her, I'm going to stay, Mom, stop screaming! Mom, leave those kids the fuck alone! 

[yelling in background is louder, pressured and intractable]

D: The officer is on his way. Are you physically safe? 

C: Ok, ok, good, he might need back up? She's really agitated. --Stop it, Mom, calm down! I think I'm safe--

O: --going to shoot you, don't mess with someone 'cause you don't know who's carrying, Stop it! You're going to heaven!

C: She's threatening to shoot me, I think.

D: Please get to a safe location, now. Do you know if she has a gun?

C: She's wearing this fanny pack across her like a sash, so maybe? She's got a glock and a couple pistols at home. She's got her CCW so she normally carries. I don't think she ever actually shot at anyone though.

O: Eyes are the window to the soul, you! Are going to hell. You! Are going to heaven. Stop it! Stop it!

C: She's yelling at the sky. My dad shot himself in March and she hasn't really, um, been right ever since. Mom! do you have a gun? The cops are coming, you need to calm down! --There's people coming out from the apartments and staring at her, the McDonald's people are still here in the back, my brother is about to throw up--

D: Your brother? Is he a minor? [uh-huh] Please get him to a safe location, now.

C: Where are the cops? 

D: They're en route. Does your mother have any mental or physical health diagnoses? Any substance abuse?

C: I mean, diabetes. Type 2. She just smokes some weed sometimes. I sent my brother to the van and I'm just keeping an eye on her. She's still yelling. She's got a god complex, you know?

D: You mean, she's grandiose? 

C: No, like she thinks she's god sometimes. They're here! I see the lights. I'm waving. Is it just this one guy?

I stared at my board. I had dispatched 2 units, typing furiously in the CAD. 6D6 and 6H8 were closest, 6H8 coming from the west and 6D6 from the east. The state police sergeant was nearby and heading that direction as well.  I sent Fire and Medical next; they would stage down the block. Hopefully we wouldn't need them, except possibly to take the mother to a hospital. The shift sergeant was adding comments while I kept talking to the son. Additional calls were coming in--"some woman said my kid is going to hell because he has eyes," "A woman tried to drive her car but hit a bush and then she ran inside McDonald's screaming," "This psycho told me I was going to heaven and she has a gun in her bag," "She says my soul is bad and she can see it through my eyes and I'm going to hell" ---"Thank you, we are aware and law enforcement is responding"

P1: This is Six David Six, heading to McDonald's on Reeder, Code 3, lines open, check in 5.

P2: Six Henry Eight, ETA 2 minutes, Code 3, check in 5.

I stayed on the line with the son for another few minutes, until 6H8 and state police were on scene and I could hear them make contact with the son. Thank god. I took a sip of water, cleared my note, and adjusted my headphones. My body was tense, full of sympathetic adrenaline, and I didn't notice my supervisor until she cleared her throat. All my coworkers were staring at me. We've all had that moment when you're the center of an activating call, everyone making eye contact with you as they reassure people that yes, police are coming, fire is coming, medics are coming. It's a strange thing--it doesn't hit in the moment, but half an hour later you catch yourself feeling it. Everyone turning, looking for the responsible adult, until all eyes are focused on you and you have no adult to turn to. Decision time. Did you do your best? Or did you make things worse?

Jenna, our team lead, told me to take a break and I did. When I was new, I thought the best way to deal was to just... move on. Take the next call. Keep moving. But I've been in dispatch long enough to know, that doesn't work. It just numbs you. So I took the break. Even left the building and walked around the parking lot.  

I took a moment when I walked back in, grabbing a coffee and a banana. Protein. Do bananas even have protein? Regardless. Unimportant. I wanted a banana, so I grabbed a banana. There was a pleasant--it sounds strange to say pleasant, but it was--a pleasant buzz. Calls had slowed back down and the atmosphere was almost positive. Apparently the woman had had a glock in her fanny pack, but no shots were fired and she was on her way to the hospital on a police hold. Couldn't wait to hear all the details. 

I was reviewing my notes when I saw it. 6D6 never made it to the scene. One of my coworkers had taken the 5-check and he hadn't responded. The GPS on his phone and vehicle were out, he wasn't responding to radio, and Fire hadn't seen the car when they drove by. 6D6 (Steve, it was Steve's call sign) hadn't responded. No-one could find him. He had been at mile marker 92, then he had disappeared. 

I kept a half-ear out through the night. I fielded calls while the dogs searched, while they debated calling SAR, while people spoke in hushed voices. He turned back up around 6 am, pulling into the McDonald's parking lot and wondering why it was dark. I never knew exactly what happened--there were all sorts of X-Files theories and maybe Bigfoot was involved and maybe Steve just punked out--but I talked to him about it once, maybe a month later. 

"It was uncanny," Steve said. He was avoiding eye contact, hands cupped around his coffee. The officers didn't often come to dispatch, but I'd grabbed him after a training. We were both on that one, so I had an excuse. Plus, you build relationships over the radio but it's different actually seeing someone. He wasn't how I had pictured; he was taller, softer spoken, and bald. His head was nicely shaped. 

"I was driving down the highway, almost there. I told you check in 5, lines open, since I was just up the road on Barlow. And then--have you ever had highway hypnosis? That's the best way I can describe it. I felt like I had tunnel vision; it seemed like I was taking a while, but I figured it was adrenaline and the highway. At first, atleast. I passed mile marker 92 and all a sudden, the distance between every tree took longer. You can check my speedometer, what's normally a half-mile registered at 5 or 6 miles. It was like distance was different.... don't worry. I got my psych clearance." He laughed. "It's nice to put a face to your voice. Anyone ever tell you, you have kind eyes? I hear eyes are the window to the soul."