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Cellphones drowning out police radios Paul
Davidson WASHINGTON -- "One Adam 12." "Car 54, where are you?" The police radios that popularized
those refrains on TV cop shows worked as reliably as quartz watches. In
the real world, such dependability can be a matter of life and death.
"That's your lifeline; that's just a
given," says Kansas City, Mo., detective Robert Blehm, who took that
popular image to heart.
But as Blehm and his partner, Derek
McCollum, ran after a drug dealer at 4 in the morning on Sept. 18, 1996,
they got dead air when they tried to call for backup on their new handheld
radios.
As they cornered the suspect, he shot
them both. Blehm -- lying in the street, blood gushing from his shattered
right leg -- tried calling again. Again nothing.
Finally, McCollum, shot in the chest
but still able to move, stumbled up the street until he found a clear
signal and summoned help.
The shooting victims were also
victims of progress. The once- dependable police radio is literally being
drowned out by a torrent of information-age services, such as wireless
phones and instant messaging, that have made mobile communications
available to millions of Americans. Even as police, fire and emergency
medical services upgrade to pricey new radio systems, dozens of agencies
-- including those in Seattle; Portland, Ore.; Denver; and Miami -- face
increasing interference from more powerful commercial wireless services.
"This is a very big problem, and it's
going to get worse" as cellular's customer base grows, says Ron Haraseth
of the Association of Public-Safety Communications Officials.
In Tigard, Ore., recently, police
twice were unable to radio for backup while facing armed suspects because
of cellphone interference. Part of the problem is the fact that Kansas
City's police force and others, beset by tight budgets and poor planning,
have been unable or unwilling to build sufficient infrastructure to
support their new, but more terrain-sensitive systems. And many agencies
simply find their new, feature-rich radios tougher to use and more prone
to breakdown.
In the 1960s and 1970s, "there
weren't as many users, and systems were simpler," says Chuck Jackson of
Motorola, the top maker of emergency-service radios. "There was a
microphone and a speaker, and you talked over it."
Some officials blame the Federal
Communications Commission, which supervises the airwaves, for not doing
more to head off the current traffic jam. And experts say the FCC's plan
to divvy up a new band of radio spectrum -- ostensibly to fix the problems
-- may just replicate current congestion.
FCC critics, moreover, say that the
agency, under pressure to wring as many billions of dollars as possible
from auctioning airwaves to commercial carriers, gives second-class
consideration to public-safety agencies that get the spectrum for free.
The FCC says it balances both interests.
However the blame is shared, the
bottom line at street level is that the ongoing glitches have caused an
untold number of close calls, at least a few injuries and may have
contributed to the death of a police officer.
"It could mean life or death to
police officers, firefighters and even citizens who are not able to get
prompt emergency service," says Harlin McEwen, a retired police chief who
handles telecommunications issues for the International Association of
Chiefs of Police.
Public-safety radios traditionally
worked in the relatively uncrowded 400-megahertz frequency band and lower.
Interference was rare and came from taxis and other services on nearby
channels, whose conversations were brief.
But as metro populations swelled,
police, fire and medical agencies lacked enough channels to handle growth
in their own ranks. The sprawl also complicated another concern:
Departments typically cannot communicate by radio with neighboring
agencies whose equipment works on different frequency bands. This still is
a nationwide problem during major fires and other disasters involving
multiple jurisdictions.
To fix both problems, a growing
number of agencies across the USA the past decade have been upgrading to
new equipment that works in the 800-megahertz band, which
has more capacity and allows more features. And neighboring communities
often move there in tandem, so they can communicate with each other.
Fix breeds new problems
But that slice of spectrum is the
same space occupied by the exploding wireless industry. And it brings its
own headaches:
* Wireless interference. Much of the
commercial interference with public-safety radios comes from cellphones.
And, for historical reasons, the cellphone company causing the most
problems is Nextel Communications.
Until recent years, Nextel operated a
mobile radio service for taxis, truckers and others. In the 1970s, the FCC
interlaced Nextel's channels with those of other mobile radio services,
including public safety. It did so because it thought each organization's
channels were more vulnerable to interference from its other channels than
from someone else's channels.
It's not clear whether this belief
was correct -- the FCC had few resources for testing back then. But the
legacy is that in each market, dozens of police and fire channels abut
Nextel channels. For years, the layout caused few problems because both
Nextel and public- safety agencies used a radio system design: a handful
of towers on hilltops beaming wide-area signals.
Cellphones create coverage gaps
But in the mid-1990s, Nextel morphed
into a national cellular phone company, which required it to dot cities
with dozens more towers. The result is that its transmissions now can
overwhelm relatively weak public-safety systems on nearby channels and
create coverage gaps that can reach a mile, especially near cell towers.
Other wireless phone providers, such
as AT&T and Cingular Wireless, also cause interference. But because
their channels were granted in separate blocks, they wreak havoc only
where they meet public safety's block. "In almost every region of the
country we're hearing complaints," says Mike Hunter, president of
engineering firm RCC Consultants.
In Anne Arundel County, Md., police
officers are plagued by eight "dead spots" where Nextel and Cingular have
towers. The problem came to a head last year when an officer stopped a
speeding car and could not reach dispatch. As he wrote out a ticket,
another officer stopped to warn him that the driver was a shooting
suspect.
"It was getting to where officers,
who are pretty courageous, were starting to get very uncomfortable," says
Anne Arundel Police Chief P. Thomas Shanahan. The county recently agreed
to buy a new $15 million radio system.
In Phoenix, Nextel transmitters
hamper the police radio data system, which does background checks during
traffic stops. "Certainly people guilty of crimes have been let go because
the officer couldn't get through," says radio manager Melvin Weimeister.
In Portland, Ore., Nextel's system --
which has 80 towers in the area vs. the county's 14 -- "is like the biker
gang that moved next door, banging and raising hell," says Joel
Harrington, who handles city communications there. Officials are
considering a more robust $50 million radio network, he says.
Most of the time, the interference
means hassles rather than disaster: Officers must travel farther to get a
signal, carry cellphones and bring backup when entering static-prone
areas. And Nextel, officials say, has been a good neighbor, agreeing to
switch channels, reduce transmitter power and sometimes even move towers.
"We take reports of interference with
public safety very seriously," says Larry Kervor, Nextel's vice president
of government affairs. But the company, he says, is "fully in compliance
with the FCC."
The FCC, in turn, says that years ago
it simply did not anticipate Nextel's cellular service.
Remedial measures are of limited
value, says Tom Eckels, an engineer with consultancy Hatfield &
Dawson. A long-term solution would be to move Nextel and public-safety
channels into separate blocks. But it would take huge sums to reprogram
equipment. Many towns couldn't afford it.
Portland and other cities are
considering moving to the 700- megahertz band to be vacated by UHF
television stations as they switch to digital broadcasting. But radio
equipment for that band won't be ready until mid-2002.
And some experts contend that the
FCC's new plan for that band will make it just as crowded. The agency
first designed the 700 band with public safety in its own block and more
space between that block and other wireless carriers. But the FCC revised
the plan last year, and critics say it now allows carriers to operate
powerful transmission towers in channels that are too close to public
safety.
"It's a significant concern," says
Steve Sharkey of Motorola, which asked the FCC to reconsider. The FCC
turned it down, saying interference should not be a problem.
McEwen of the police chiefs group
charges, "The FCC changed the rules to get more money from auctions, but
they're putting public safety at risk."
Tom Sugrue, chief of the FCC's
wireless bureau, replies, "That's just wrong." He notes that "radio
spectrum is a limited resource that everyone wants" and that the FCC must
balance competing needs.
* Need for more towers. Although
radio signals in the 800-megahertz band are clearer, they
typically don't dance around hills, trees and buildings as deftly as their
predecessors. They also have more trouble penetrating big new,
reflective-glass buildings.
The solution is to build a bigger
network. But budget-conscious cities often don't realize or want to accept
that upgrading to 800 megahertz requires adding many more
towers than their older systems needed, RCC's Hunter says.
In Kansas City, officials decided:
"This is how much we want to spend, and this'll do," says Bob Lawrey,
communications manager for city police.
The city recently had to enhance its
new 800-megahertz, $18 million system with $10 million worth
of additional antennas.
"I was pretty upset that they
expected us to do this job, and they gave us substandard equipment," says
Blehm, 29, the wounded officer who has settled a lawsuit against his
assailant, the city, the city's radio consultant (SFA) and the maker of
the radios (Ericcson).
Assistant City Manager Rich Noll said
officials thought the original network would be sufficient.
Orange County, Calif., installed an
$80 million radio system last year. But the system design did not
adequately account for the area's maze of malls, apartments and offices.
Recently, as a SWAT team searched for
a suspect in an Irvine office building, Orange County officers could not
radio colleagues outside to let them know the team was coming through the
door. The county is now debating more antennas.
In Delaware, firefighters often
resort to blaring sirens to let colleagues know that a blaze is spreading
or a floor is caving in. That's because Delaware's new $52 million,
statewide radio system doesn't work in five communities, including tourist
hotbed Rehoboth Beach, or in large buildings. Motorola has agreed to add
signal boosters at no cost, and the state will spend $10 million to
improve performance inside buildings.
Police officer shot to death
Problems turned tragic in Atlanta. In
1997, as two officers responded to a domestic dispute, the man became
aggressive. Officer Patricia Cocciolone says she tried to call for help,
but her radio didn't work. The man emerged with a rifle and critically
injured Cocciolone. He killed her partner, John Sowa.
Chip Warren, vice president of the
police union, says the city has balked at spending to add antennas to its
$39 million, 6-year-old system. "This is putting troops' lives in danger."
Atlanta Police Maj. Bill Gordon says
the problem is not widespread and says Cocciolone's radio worked, contrary
to her testimony and media reports.
Experts also note that every radio
system has dead spots: buildings, low spots and other nooks where signals
will not reach. Says Eckels of Hatfield & Dawson: "Nobody ever can
afford to build the perfect radio system."
* More complicated equipment. New 800-megahertz radios sport fancy features, such as emergency
buttons to alert dispatchers to trouble and automatic scanning for an open
channel.
But some officers have had trouble
using them. Before, they searched for open channels themselves, listening
to colleagues' conversations as they scanned. Now, if the airwaves are
busy, they hear a beep and must wait for a channel. "We've had officers
frustrated during a shooting because they get a tone," says Portland
Assistant Police Chief Bruce Prunk.
A Kansas City dispatcher, bewildered
by a new 60-channel radio, responded on the wrong channel to firefighters
calling for hoses, forcing them to jump out a first-floor window to escape
a blaze.
Though time and training should ease
many of these concerns, the feature-packed new radio systems are also more
glitch-prone.
"The systems are full of controllers
and microprocessors and software," Hunter says. "There's a lot more to go
wrong."
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