SEATTLE — A green light blinks quietly on an office phone monitor. A volunteer named Mark McAllister quickly transfers the call to his direct line. A soft voice comes through his headset: "I've been feeling a little bit sad lately."
McAllister shifts in his chair, his glasses bobbing as he nods along. To his right, two other volunteers take calls. One listens to a teary 17-year-old who recently fought with her mother. Another call is from a woman worried about her brother who's experiencing symptoms of severe mental illness; he's refusing treatment and she doesn't know what to do.
Every day at this inconspicuous office a couple of blocks from the Space Needle, dozens of volunteers and staff answer crisis calls and monitor the suicide hotline for King County and large parts of Washington state.
