[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 149 (2003), Part 1]
[Senate]
[Pages 435-436]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                     IN MEMORY OF EDWARD PIOTROWSKI

 Mr. KOHL. Mr. President, over the weekend one of my 
constituents, Edward J. Piotrowski, passed away. This eulogy was 
written by his son, Steve, a long time and greatly valued member of my 
State staff. Steve's words speak for themselves, but I would just add 
that Steve and his father are not at all average, but extraordinary 
citizens and contributors to the State of Wisconsin and the Nation.
  The eulogy follows:


                          An Average American

       An average American died today. His death did not make the 
     evening news. Only his friends and family noticed his death. 
     His death was unremarkable as was his life. Yet, his passing 
     lessens us all a little bit.
       He was the son of Polish immigrants. He grew up on a farm 
     in Central Wisconsin. He attended a school that was taught in 
     Polish, and he only had an eighth-grade education. Yet, he 
     was a smart man, and he was a kind and gentle man. He cared 
     about other people and knew that part of his obligation in 
     life was to help make his community a better place. He cared 
     deeply about his family, his community, his church and his 
     country. He never aspired to greatness, he only wanted to 
     work hard and make life better for his family and community.
       His was a simple life. He worked hard from the time he was 
     young as one of thirteen children helping his family on the 
     farm. He came of age during WWII, and in spite of the fact 
     that he had and could have maintained a farm deferment, he 
     volunteered to serve his country during the War. He was 
     initially trained as an infantryman, but was then transferred 
     to the Army Air Corps where he became a nose gunner on a B-
     24. He was scheduled to ship to the European theater of 
     operations when one of his crewmembers was killed in a 
     training accident. The Army broke up the crew and reassigned 
     and retrained them. He was on his way to the Pacific when the 
     war ended. I believe that he always regretted that he never 
     got the opportunity to test his courage in combat but was 
     also grateful that he along with his brothers made it home 
     alive and well.
       Shortly after the war, he met my mother and they married 
     and began the process of raising their family. Eventually 
     they had six children, and suffered through the loss of their 
     first daughter at the age of two. He drove a semi-truck for 
     nearly 20 years after the war. It was a good way to earn a 
     living, but caused him to have to spend a great deal of time 
     away from his home and family. He eventually decided to run 
     his own business, a small service station in his small 
     hometown. He loved to build and fix things, and this 
     business, while trying at times, allowed him many 
     opportunities to do that. After a while the changes in the 
     service station business convinced him to look for work that 
     better suited his skills and abilities.
       He found a job as a carpenter; his life-long hobby was now 
     also his occupation. He had a talent and dedication for wood 
     working that was amazing. His ability to turn raw lumber into 
     beautiful furniture and useful items was inspiring. He loved 
     to spend his time in his workshop building furniture for his 
     family and friends. He usually made his furniture only for 
     friends and family, and he never charged anywhere near what 
     his skills and labor could have demanded. He just wanted to 
     create useful and beautiful things for others to enjoy. He 
     donated his creations to his

[[Page 436]]

     church and the community for their use and as items in 
     various fundraisers.
       He was not a man that showed his emotions easily. Like most 
     men of his generation, he was taught to be stoic and composed 
     in all situations. Yet, he showed his love for his family in 
     so many ways every day. When his boys were young, go-carts 
     were all the craze. He found an old Nash Rambler and using 
     parts from the body and frame of the car, his own ingenuity, 
     and his skills with wood working and welding, he built the 
     boys a go-cart with a hood and seat and working lights. It 
     was a rather funny looking little vehicle, but it gave the 
     boys hours and hours of pleasure racing around the farm 
     fields and yards.
       When we moved off the farm and into town, there wasn't a 
     place for us to play baseball. The only ballpark in town was 
     set up for softball, and the river ran right behind the short 
     left field fence causing us to lose many baseballs. He, along 
     with a number of other fathers, talked to a man who owned an 
     unused farm field on the edge of town and got permission for 
     us to build a ball field. Using only their garden roto-
     tillers and hand tools, he led the fathers and boys in 
     building, seeding and leveling a very useable ballpark for us 
     kids. It was maintained and used for years by the kids in 
     Amherst as a ballpark.
       He also worked to fulfill the dreams of his daughters. He 
     spent many hours building a dollhouse for his second 
     daughter. It challenged his skills to work in such a small 
     scale. Because she wanted it, he built it for her using left 
     over materials from his home remodeling projects. She has 
     that dollhouse in her home today. His last daughter wanted a 
     playhouse. He built her one that many would have considered a 
     starter home in early days. She still has the miniature 
     cupboards and kitchen cabinets from that treasured play area.
       For many years he was a member of the volunteer fire 
     department. He regularly volunteered to help out with 
     community improvement projects bringing his skills and work 
     dedication to help make his hometown a better place. He 
     always was willing to help his church, friends and family. He 
     was a member of the local American Legion for many, many 
     years. He always marched in the Memorial Day parade, and was 
     especially proud when he was selected to be the flag bearer 
     for the parade. Last year, in spite of the cancer that was 
     slowly destroying him, he again was in the parade. He did 
     make the concession to ride in the pick-up truck rather than 
     march because of his loss of strength. He epitomized the 
     dedication of a citizen that is necessary to make a city a 
     true community.
       Our father was never recognized as a celebrity. In fact, if 
     you met him on the street, he would have appeared to be just 
     an average American. In all so many ways he was just an 
     average American, but he was the type of everyday American we 
     need. He worked hard. He cared about his family and 
     community. He gave of himself to help others and to make his 
     small part of the world better. Most of all he set an example 
     for his children, an example of what it takes to be a good 
     person and to succeed in life by taking care of those things 
     that really matter. As we got older we tried to let him know 
     how well he had done in raising us and how much he meant to 
     us. I don't think I could ever truly express to him how much 
     he taught me by his example and his everyday kindness.
       Edward J. Piotrowski, known to your family as Pops from the 
     time we boys felt too old to call you daddy, you will be 
     deeply missed. I hope that when you died you understood that 
     we were proud to call you ``Pops''. I also hope that I can 
     someday be considered as good a citizen of our great country 
     as you were.
       With love and respect, your children.

                          ____________________