DISPATCHER PROVES A `NATURAL' FOR THE JOB

Ken Bullard started his career working as a marine mobile operator for a phone company in St. Louis. From the start, he has been a "natural" in the field of communications.

"My family lives in Cape Girardeau; when I left the phone company, I came back here," Bullard said.

In 1980, when the Cape Girardeau County Sheriff's Department was advertising for a new dispatcher, Bullard decided to throw his hat into the ring.

"The job was communications-related, so I thought I should give it a shot," he said. "I had never done anything in law enforcement work, nor had I ever dreamed of it."

With his communications background, Bullard was a lock for the job.

"They told me that things get hectic in the control room, that I would sometimes have to handle 12-15 calls per hour," Bullard said. "I told them that I had handled about 300 calls every 30 minutes at the phone company in St. Louis."

Bullard stayed with the Cape County Sheriff's Department for five years, until an administrative change resulted in the reorganization of the ranks and Bullard's dismissal.

"But by that time, I had a track record and recommendations that could take me almost anywhere," Bullard said. "I had messages on my answering machine from all over the region."

Instead of moving away from home, Bullard took a dispatching job with the Cape Girardeau Police Department in 1985 a position he holds today.

Bullard is one of the 10 dispatchers employed by the Cape Girardeau Police Department, who are being honored this week during National Public Safety Telecommunicators Week.

"I like to say that dispatchers save seconds; seconds save lives," Bullard said. Bullard has lived up to his motto more than once.

On Dec. 8, 1987, Bullard took a 911 call from a woman whose parents were being held hostage during a robbery at a flower shop on North Kingshighway.

"The robber was tying up her parents," he said. "She was at a vantage point from across the street where she could see everything that was going on. She was so afraid that her parents were going to be killed."

Bullard was able to overcome the caller's excitement to get the information necessary to dispatch officers to the scene immediately.

"Police arrived on the scene within two or three minutes of the call," Bullard said. "No one was hurt."

The dispatcher received a letter of commendation from the department for his "efficiency in handling this call and (for) the concern shown to the caller."

Bullard said that much of the instinctive ability with which he acts comes not only from training, but from personal experience.

"When I lived in St. Louis, my home was burglarized and my car had been broken into," Bullard said. "So I know how it feels to be a victim; I know how people feel when they call.

"I've come to develop a good rapport with the public," he continued. "And as I got to know the officers themselves and saw how they worked, I came to know what they needed, too."

Bullard demonstrated that ability in the August 1990 high-speed car chase that led Cape Girardeau officers all the way to Fredericktown.

Patrolman Barry Hovis chased the suspect through three counties, well out of the range of the Cape Girardeau radio equipment.

"I got on the phone and was teleconferencing every sheriff's department from here to Fredericktown," Bullard said. "I was bound and determined not to lose contact with my officer.

"I called and told the dispatchers to put the phone right next to the radio so that I could hear what was going on," he said. "We were very lucky that no one was seriously hurt during that incident."

Ask any officer of the Cape Girardeau police, and he will tell you that Bullard is a master of the MULES and NCIC networks.

"The computer is my way of being a detective," Bullard said.

"Years ago, there was this woman who was arrested for writing bad checks in the city," he said. "She gave us a name, told us that she had never been in trouble before, but I never believed that it was her real name. She had initials tattooed on her ankle that didn't match the name she provided to police.

"So I sat and played with the initials and some dates and found out who she really was," Bullard said. "It turned out she was wanted in several different states and had a very long police record.

"The judge was going to give her probation," he said. "He ended up sending her to prison for 20 years."

Bullard also demonstrated his talents, drawing a commendation from the head of the detective division of the department, during a harassing phone call situation.

In 1989, a local doctor was receiving a number of harassing phone calls at home and to a computer modem but could not change his phone number because his patients needed to be able to reach him.

One night, when a call was being logged into the family's computer, the doctor's wife called the police department. Bullard immediately contacted the phone company to place an emergency trace on the call. This sort of trace is usually only conducted if requested by the victim.

"The next day, Southwestern Bell Security informed me that they weren't sure how (Bullard) convinced anyone to do the trace or how he found the capable personnel," said Lt. John Brown, senior officer of the Cape Girardeau police detective division, in the letter of commendation. "The Security Division was duly impressed, as was the (family)."

Bullard sees his job as fundamental to the safety of both the public and the officers he dispatches.

"Through the computer-aided dispatch system, we can give the officer a lot of information about the crime scene or the caller before he ever gets out of the car," he said. "We're telling the officers what to plan for."

Bullard said that he loves his job and is dedicated to the police department.

"I see myself retiring from communications someday," Bullard said. "I really do like it here."

Another Cape Girardeau police dispatcher, Kim Amelunke, said that her toughest call came when a co-worker was having a heart attack and called the police to dispatch an ambulance.

"The hardest part was not knowing if she was going to be all right and having to stay there at the station until a replacement showed up," Amelunke said.

Dispatcher Paul Johnson had a similar story to add.

"One of the officers was having a heart attack and called in," Johnson said. "It didn't even sound like him; I thought it was a joke.

"But then everything became deadly serious," Johnson said. "It's so hard just to sit there and listen and not to be able to do anything but send help."