Concern about emergency response times in Ocala becomes personal

Ocala Police Department vehicle on patrol in Ocala on Sept. 29, 2021. [Bruce Ackerman/Ocala Gazette file photo]

Updated: 6/19/24

Editor’s Note: This report is based on public records as well as the writer’s first-hand experience of the incident.

Just before 3:26 p.m. on Tuesday, June 11, a disheveled man walked into a downtown Ocala office and told those inside that he wanted to kill himself. It would be approximately 12 minutes before an Ocala Police Department officer is dispatched in response to a 911 call, even though the incident initially was a priority 1 call and OPD is only a block away.

LuAnne and Michael Warren, owners of Brick City Digital Marketing, were hosting a meeting with me and one of their employees, Mary, when the man walked in.

LuAnne didn’t even need to pause to gather her wits. She stood and walked toward the man saying warmly, “We’ll help you.” She guided the man, who was holding a brown paper bag, to a chair next to the front door. He sat down and said he had a “Glock” (a type of 9mm handgun) in his bag.

Even after the man said he had a gun, LuAnne kept interacting with him. “I figured if I just kept him busy, he’d forget about the gun,” she said later.

Michael dialed 911 while LuAnne calmly talked to the man and got him water.

“911, what is the nature of your emergency?” asked the call taker at Ocala’s emergency call center at OPD. Michael’s call was answered at 3:26:25, records show.

“22 South Pine,’’ Michael said. “Um, we have a fellow who has come into our office and said he wants to kill himself. And he’s armed.” Michael repeated his address and provided his name and phone number per the standard 911 call taker protocol.

While still on the 911 call, Michael turned his attention to the man, “What’s your name, friend?”

“Josh” the man replied.

“OK, Josh, we are going to get you some help quick,” Michael replied kindly.

While watching the erratic man interact with my dear friend LuAnne, I quietly unholstered the gun in my purse. I kept my eyes on the man’s hands and their proximity to the opening of the bag.

Was there really a handgun in his bag, as he said? If he reached in his bag, would I draw? Would I wait to see what he pulled out of the bag? Could I shoot a mentally imbalanced total stranger, especially with LuAnne standing so close to Josh?

On Dec. 23, a man was shot to death in the Paddock Mall, a mere 10 feet from where I was wrapping holiday gifts. That day, I had left my handgun at home. This time, I kept my hand on the weapon in my purse and silently waited for the police to respond to Michael’s 911 call.

It turned out to be a long wait for a priority 1 call.

Josh showed interest in mints nearby, which were offered, and then Michael offered the man a package of freeze-dried ice cream. By this point, the man was speaking unintelligibly.

LuAnne said Josh told her he was “joking” about the gun. Seconds after taking the snack from Michael, Josh grabbed his bag and walked out the front door. LuAnne went out to check on him but soon returned. She locked the deadbolt while Michael continued to update the emergency call taker about Josh’s location.

Josh tried to come back into the office, but we agreed not to unlock the door.

The call taker told Michael help was on the way and to call back if law enforcement is not there in time to meet the man, who was still standing in the parking lot and to update them on Josh’s direction if he left. The recording of Michael’s 911 call is 9 minutes and 43 seconds long.

Approximately 15 minutes after initiating the call to 911, we watched Josh walk across Pine Street down Broadway before losing sight of him. Roughly two minutes later, 17 minutes after initiating the call to 911, an OPD officer knocked on the office door. Michael told him the last time we saw Josh he was walking down Broadway into downtown.

According to dispatch records and body cam footage obtained by the “Gazette” days later, OPD Officer Travon Boyd responded to the call at 3:45: 35. Boyd located Josh and  spent less than two minutes talking to him. The footage shows Boyd did not ask Josh if he was suicidal but admonished him to stop going into businesses and scaring people.

Boyd noted in the CAD report the man he spoke to said he was fine and did not make threats to kill himself and declined the officer’s help. Boyd noted the man “appeared 10-4 and understanding” and did not meet the criteria to be taken into protective custody under the state’s Baker Act

However, Josh showed up at OPD nearly an hour later asking for help again because he felt suicidal. In police records of that interaction, Josh indicated he had considered running into traffic to kill himself.

The standard response times for priority 1 and priority 2 calls are usually included on each end of watch report form, but that day’s report said those response times were “unavailable.”

As previously reported, OPD breaks its 911 calls down into three categories: Priority 1 is the highest urgency, priority 2 is not as urgent, and priority 3 calls are the least critical.

When we last reported response times in 2021, the department reported improvement in response times for priority 1 calls. In 2016, the average time was eight minutes, 12 seconds. By 2020, the department reported the response time for those calls had improved to an average of three minutes, 18 seconds.

While fire departments have nationally prescribed standards for response times, no similar standard exists for law enforcement.

Then-Major Steve Cuppy with the OPD explained the difference between priority 1 calls and priority 2. “The easiest way to understand it is a priority 1 call would be any time we’re having to drive to something with lights and sirens. A priority 2 call is obviously less priority, as it does not require lights and sirens. It could be, as an example, you come home to discover your house was broken into. Priority 3 calls are the lowest level…they’re more a civil matter.”

That Tuesday afternoon, the officer did not arrive with lights and sirens. We also noted that EMTs were not dispatched, even though Josh claimed he wanted to hurt himself. We’ve asked the city and county to provide their dispatch matrix so that we can explain what their plans for response are more clearly.

According to the CAD (Computer-Assisted Dispatch) report, we were initially classified as a priority 1 response, but four minutes into the call we were transitioned to a priority 2. That disappointed Michael. “Although we were safe behind a locked door, that man was not, and it should have remained a priority 1,” he reflected.

City Council member Barry Mansfield told the “Gazette” he’d look into the incident and encouraged city staff to be more forthcoming with information. Ocala Mayor Ben Marciano said he’s looking into whether this is an isolated event.

He’s not the only one looking into response time questions.

Over the last six months, the “Gazette” has been researching the emergency communications systems in Marion County and we noted some significant vulnerabilities. Some were recently acknowledged in an internal investigation of a Feb. 20 fiery crash that claimed two lives.

To be sure, these problems have nothing to do with the people sitting in the dispatcher seats. On the contrary, I am their biggest fan, and I’m advocating for them as much as I am for the public’s safety.

I emailed Marciano and OPD Chief Michael Balken requesting a meeting to discuss the concerns our research has revealed. That was on Monday, June 10. The next day, Josh walked into the Warrens’ office.

At home later Tuesday evening, I felt the similar uneasiness I felt after the shooting at the Paddock Mall. At that time, I wasn’t armed. On Tuesday I was. Did I feel safer? No.

I sorted through the emotions tumbling inside, especially about the decision I’m grateful that I didn’t have to make while acknowledging law enforcement officers face those decisions all the time.

I consider myself an armed pacifist, a sort of walking contradiction. I tell myself I could probably only shoot to protect someone. But could I have fired my gun, with my dear friend LuAnne so close to the stranger if he had drawn his from the bag?

And then comes this emotion: I don’t feel safe.

That evening, I texted my brother, who works as a firefighter/paramedic in Flagler County, to share with him what had happened. He texted back, “Why are you always in the wrong place at the wrong time????”

“So I can report on it,” I replied.

“I’d rather you not be the witness,” he responded, adding, “or the victim.”

LuAnne and Michael are concerned and curious why it took so long for OPD to respond, and they are concerned about what happened to Josh. They also now have a better understanding of why we’re focusing on emergency communications and call response times in Marion County.

They also didn’t know I was armed at that moment.

I’ll reiterate what I learned during the Paddock Mall shooting: Your safety in a crisis has a lot to do with the people standing closest to you. I was in good company on Tuesday.

Within the hour of the incident, I texted Balken about what happened and how long the wait was for help. As of June 19, I have not received a response to emails or the text from him and OPD thus far, has not agreed to answer questions, only provide public records.

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Expect future coverage: The “Gazette” has asked to speak with Marciano and Balken about challenges to emergency communication and questions about emergency responses for city fire and law. The “Gazette” has also made a public records request to Marion County and Ocala officials for fire response matrixes to articulate the differences between services provided by the city and the county. This information is relevant in the broader context of how the agencies are dealing with the area’s rapid population growth and the rising demand and costs of public safety given the shortage of personnel handling emergency calls for service.