Boy Calls 911 to Ask For Help with Math, Cops Soon Realize He Needs Real Help – Story of the Day
It was a rainy Tuesday evening in a quiet suburb of Portland when the 911 dispatch line rang. Operator Kelly Harmon answered the call, expecting perhaps a car accident or a domestic dispute. But instead, she heard the shaky voice of a child.
“Um… hi. My name’s Ben. I need help with my math homework.”
Kelly blinked. “I’m sorry—did you say math homework?”
“Yeah. Multiplication. I don’t get it,” the boy said, his voice trembling slightly. “My teacher said to call if I needed help. So… I did.”
She chuckled softly, unsure how to respond. “Ben, this is 911. It’s for emergencies, not schoolwork.”
There was a long pause.
“…Oh,” he whispered. “I thought… I thought this was the only number I could call. I’m sorry.”
Something about his voice made Kelly pause. He didn’t sound like a mischievous kid making a prank call. He sounded… alone. Uncertain. Afraid, even.
“Ben, are you okay?” she asked gently.
Another pause. Then a soft whisper: “I think so.”
She looked over at her supervisor and typed out a silent message: Trace this call. Then she turned back to the line. “Where are your parents, honey?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “My mom left a few days ago, I think. And… my stepdad, he sleeps a lot. And when he’s not asleep, he yells.”
Kelly’s heart tightened. “Are you safe right now?”
“I think so. I locked my door. But I’m hungry. I ate crackers yesterday, but I think we’re out now.”
Dispatch traced the call to a small apartment building in the north end of town. Officer Daniels and his partner Officer Ruiz were already en route before Kelly even finished logging the call.
When the officers arrived at the rundown apartment, they knocked on the door. No answer.
“Ben?” Officer Daniels called gently.
They heard a shuffling sound behind the door, then a small voice.
“Who is it?”
“Police,” Daniels said. “You’re not in trouble, Ben. We just want to check on you.”
There was a pause. Then, slowly, the door cracked open. Standing there was a small, skinny boy with messy hair, hollow cheeks, and eyes far too sad for someone who looked to be no older than eight.
He held a math worksheet in his hand. “I didn’t know who else to call,” he said simply.
Ruiz knelt down. “You did the right thing, buddy.”
Inside the apartment, the officers found a scene that turned their stomachs. Dirty dishes stacked high in the sink, mold on the walls, an almost-empty fridge. The boy’s room was cluttered but tidy, a stark contrast to the rest of the apartment—evidence of a child trying to create a safe haven for himself.
In the back bedroom, they found his stepfather passed out, a bottle on the floor beside him. Daniels nudged him. No response. He called it in and requested an ambulance.
Ben stood in the hallway, holding his math sheet tightly.
“Am I going to get in trouble?” he asked Ruiz.
Ruiz shook his head. “Not at all. You were very brave.”
“But what about my math?” Ben looked down, ashamed. “I really don’t get multiplication.”
Ruiz smiled. “Let’s get you something to eat first. Then I’ll show you the easiest way to do it—I promise. We’ve got some cool tricks.”
Ben gave a small smile. The first they’d seen.
Later that evening, after social services arrived, Ben was taken to the hospital for a check-up. Malnourished, but otherwise healthy, they said. He would be placed in temporary care until they could contact his grandmother—who thankfully lived just a few towns over and had already been trying to gain custody.
Officer Daniels drove Ben to the social services office. On the way, Ben asked quietly, “Will I see you again?”
Daniels looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Absolutely. We’ll visit. And once you’re settled with your grandma, I’ll bring you a whole book of math games. Deal?”
Ben beamed. “Deal.”
Two weeks later, Officer Daniels did just that. He brought the book, along with a bag of groceries and some toys. Ben ran out of the house and hugged him tightly.
“My grandma says you saved me,” he whispered.
Daniels knelt down. “No, Ben. You saved yourself. You were smart. You asked for help. That’s what heroes do.”
Months passed. Ben settled into his new home, started smiling more, eating regularly, and excelling in school—especially in math. He even wrote a story for class about a boy who called the police for math help and ended up finding a family.
It won first prize in the school writing contest.
And every time Officer Daniels came to visit, Ben proudly showed him his latest math scores—and gave him one more hug.
