Police Scanner: A Reporter's Best Friend

It's the tone of the officer's voice that snares my attention.

 I can be in the writing weeds – penning two stories, editing more, replying to freelancers' texts, and Google chatting with my editor, all while rocking out to Internet radio's Bar Rockin' Blues, but when a breathless, running cop's voice crackles out of the scanner, it's the only sound in the room.

Well, that and my 15-pound cat head butting his empty, ceramic bowl.

Police reporters have to be cognizant of "radio chatter,'' listening, as much as possible, to what's going on and where those goings on are occurring. At the Glendale News Press, this was never a problem because a stationary scanner sat between my monitor and crusty coffee cups. Plus, the photo department had its own scanner, so if I missed the tones screaming from beneath a pile on my desk , I was dang sure not going to miss Tom screaming at me to "Get out there!''

And while I don't have any backup ears at home, what we local editors do have is a portable scanner. It came with "the Christmas box,'' as HR refers to the package of work fun we received upon employment: phone, computer, camera, etc. The day it arrived I screamed when I saw neither the MacBook Pro nor iPhone 4, but the sleek, black handheld police scanner.

Is it just me? Don't all reporters desire a squawking device that clues them into calls for backup, calls to "be on the lookout for a teen-age male, wearing a black hoodie,'' or calls to investigate a suspicious anything?

My scanner, which the very nice man from the Burbank Ham Radio Outlet referred to as "the cheap one,'' only picks up analog signals. But thankfully, because the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department hasn't yet switched to digital, I can still hear various calls from the , which serves La Cañada.

With all the recent rains, I've found myself carrying the scanner from room to room, so as not to miss anything as it can be a bit isolating sitting at my desk, 15 minutes driving distance from the precarious hillsides in La Cañada. Happily, I've not yet heard anything catastrophic.

Humorous? Yes.

Here are the top 3 best quotes I've heard on the scanner, since that nice Ham Radio guy programmed it for me last week:

• "I'm going to need a taser.''
• "We should see the weasel any minute now.''
• "It's a little girl. She can't reach her mommy. Her little sister is crying because her tooth is loose.''

And speaking of humor, get this: I'd been in California about two months. Me and my bright red Mustang with expired, out-of-state plates, which, after coming back from a breaking news story, I opted to park in the 10-minute green zone. For an hour.

Sitting at my Burbank Leader desk, typing away on deadline, I tuned in to the scanner just as the officer ticked off my license plate. "Yeah, this needs to go,'' the voice squawked out of the speaker. 

Of course I went running outside, arms flailing. Tow truck driver didn't care. But I'm a reporter! Didn't care. But I was on deadline! Still, not so much with the caring. It seems, as the smiling Burbank Police officer pointed out, that once they hoist your car onto the tow rig, it's headed for impound. 

Lesson learned? Roger that. 

With last night's evacuation orders for La Cañada and La Crescenta, and this morning's continued pounding rains, I doubt I'll hear anything funny on the scanner.  But I've got an extra pack of batteries, so I'll keep listening, reporting and writing about the latest incidents you should be aware of.

Ten-four.