Three digits separate life from death. The dispatchers on the other side of a 911 call are, without exaggeration, life lines. The North Texas Emergency Communications Center (NTECC) is the home of these guardian angels. The North Texas Emergency Communications Center (NTECC) is the home of these guardian angels.

They witness events that can scar them mentally, yet are separated from callers by invisible airwaves. At the end of their shift, they drive home on familiar suburban streets and are expected to continue with normalcy. Thus, it probably is not a surprise that 911 centers have more than 25% turnover rates. But NTECC is different: here, only 15% of employees quit within a year. This is no mistake or coincidence, but a purposeful choice by NTECC leadership.

Angels live in heaven. NTECC cannot give them that, but it tries to get as close as possible.

Driving by NTECC, it is hard to recognize the crucial facility.

It is located in a lonely corner of Carrollton, sandwiched between Interstate 35 East and its sprawling suburbs. There are two mid-rise apartments visible from the NTECC, yet West Frankford Road is quiet.

In fact, there is no large sign on the warehouse that hosts NTECC. Instead, all signage relates to a data center and web hosting center, except for a plain white sign with the acronym, written in black bold typeface.
Walking inside NTECC, the first thing you notice is the smell in the lobby: their air freshener’s scent reminds you of being bundled in fresh laundry. NTECC does their best to provide a similar experience to its staff.

The throbbing heart of NTECC (pronounced “en-tech” by its staff) is the Operations Floor, a place all-to-familiar from cop shows. However, those shows cannot capture the essence of dispatch centers: the people.

One of them is chief of emergency communications Aerica Ramos, who has been taking calls for more than 19 years, up until last month, for the Florida Highway Patrol.