The caller was frantic. The gas in his house had been shut off after he fell behind on the payments. Way behind — the utility’s notice said he owed $4,603. He quickly got to his plea: was there anyone who could help? On the other end, Angie, a veteran operator with New Jersey’s 211 hotline, did not miss a...
The caller was frantic.
The gas in his house had been shut off after he fell behind on the payments. Way behind — the utility’s notice said he owed $4,603. He quickly got to his plea: was there anyone who could help?
On the other end, Angie, a veteran operator with New Jersey’s 211 hotline, did not miss a beat. After four years on the job, she has heard much worse. She gave the caller two phone numbers of charities to contact. Thirty seconds later, the next call beeped.
In the next half-hour, Angie received calls from a desperate mother wanted cheaper child day care; a Camden County cop found a family with three children living in a van, and a woman said she had to move within the month and didn’t know where to start.
"It gets hectic trying to scramble for resources for people," Angie said, giving only her first name to protect the hotline’s confidentiality. "We’re always busy during the day."
Eight years after it began as a small pilot program, the 211 hotline, a one-stop shop for social services information, has grown exponentially. More than 91,000 calls came in to the toll-free line last fiscal year, a 35 percent increase from 2008. The companion website, nj211.org, has logged more than a million page views.
Linked to a database of 12,426 charities and state programs, 18 operators tackle calls around-the-clock in grey cubicles lined with Rosie the Riveter posters and sheets of phone numbers.
"Instead of just giving out information like 411, people can explain their problems and get deeper help," said Laura Marx, executive director of the N.J. 211 Partnership. "There’s a reason there’s no food on the table, or why they’re facing foreclosure."
The state and United Way run the hotline in a partnership, and both contribute to its $1.5 million budget. Similar 211 hotlines exist in 47 other states.
An analysis of the calls, which last five minutes on average, offers a snapshot of the state’s needs, as thousands of New Jerseyans phone in to plead, chat, argue and thank the strangers who are often their last resort.
In 2007, 25 percent of the calls involved requests for emergency financial help. The category spiked to a third last spring and reached 50 percent this January, Marx said. Pleas for housing and mental health assistance came in next most often.
Lately, the call center has noticed a new breed of caller, who reaches the hotline, begins to talk, but then refuses to ask for any specific help. Their injured pride needs to be coaxed first.
"In the call, we try to build some warmth and trust," said Jennifer Hay, the call center’s director. "Most of what callers say they need at the start is different from their need in the end."
The data reveals other sociological and behavioral quirks. Three-quarters of the callers are women. The busiest days are Monday and Tuesday, most likely because people confront their problems after the weekend, Hay said. (It does not help that utilities cannot shut power off on Fridays.)
Last year, when foreclosures rose in the state, 211 operators noticed callers had stopped opening their mail, fearing more bad news in the envelope. That meant many also missed out on information on foreclosure mediation.
"It was just avoidance," Marx said. "We had to tell them to open the mail."
While most calls deal with serious problems, operators also hear stranger requests. Every day, a man asks for the date and time, and nothing else.
Around 4 p.m., the personality of calls change, turning from spot searches for referrals to mini-therapy sessions. Operators euphemistically call these exchanges "active listening" calls.
"We have people who call us regularly, every day," Hay said. "And we ask, ‘How are you today? If you ever need help, call us back again tomorrow.’"
For now, most of the requests on Angie’s shift involved utility bills and shut-off notices. It’s a summer trend; utility companies cannot shut off power to certain households during the winter, but they crack down on delinquent customers after March 15.
After each call, Angie tried to end on a cheerful note.
"Call us back whenever you want," she said. "We’re here 24 hours."