[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 153 (2007), Part 7]
[House]
[Pages 9488-9489]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




              IN RECOGNITION OF THE LIFE OF ANDREW BURRIS

  The SPEAKER pro tempore. Under a previous order of the House, the 
gentlewoman from Ohio (Ms. Kaptur) is recognized for 5 minutes.
  Ms. KAPTUR. Mr. Speaker, tonight I rise to commemorate the life of 
Andrew Burris, a professional carpenter by trade, who gave his life 
today in Toledo, Ohio, as he helped place the finishing touches on the 
largest Federal transportation project in Ohio's history. Burris 
suffered fatal injury as he worked to complete Interstate 280's new 
river crossing known as the Veterans Glass City Skyway that spans

[[Page 9489]]

the Maumee River, the largest river flowing into the Great Lakes.
  At approximately 9:15 this morning, 36-year-old Andrew W. Burris, of 
Curtice, Ohio, fell to his death from a scaffolding on the north side 
of the bridge. He was a faithful and dedicated member of the Carpenters 
Union Local 1138. As a carpenter for nearly 10 years, his union 
brothers said Andrew loved his work and was an excellent carpenter.
  The new skyway replaces the last drawbridge left on our Nation's 
interstate system. The cable-stayed bridge will carry three lanes of 
traffic in each direction over the river extending from I-75 on the 
north end to Navarre Avenue on the south end. The surface of the 
roadway will reach about 130 feet above the center of the river.
  As our Nation builds forward, brick by brick, steel rod by steel rod, 
cement block by cement block, wood beam by wood beam, sometimes we 
forget the danger faced by the men and women skilled in these trades as 
they craft our monuments to civilization. It takes a tragedy like this 
to give us pause and say a silent prayer for all workers in their daily 
arduous labor.
  Andrew's death is not the first tragedy to befall the workers on this 
new highway in the sky. On President's Day, 2004, a crane collapse on 
the Maumee River Crossing Bridge led to the death of four iron workers. 
This bridge to the future these men and women have been building is a 
monument and a testament to their work.
  In the Record entry I offered following the death of those four iron 
workers on that fateful February day, I noted the men and women 
building the bridge had been about great deeds. We watch their 
incredible feats daily with admiration and, yes, with awe. We witness 
their minds, their muscles and hands forming of the Earth a new and 
better future for us all.

                              {time}  2100

  On the hottest summer days, as well as bone-chilling, subzero 
temperatures of winter in the north, they toiled fearlessly above us 
creating a majestic expression of who they were and who we are as a 
people.
  We humbly acknowledge and publicly recognize them for their heroic, 
steadfast, and artful deeds as building tradesmen. The men who lost 
their lives leave not only their mastery of iron and concrete and steel 
and the creation of beauty from it as their legacy, but more 
importantly, they leave cherished lives and families.
  The same is true of Andrew Burris. Though his life was cut short, he 
leaves a legacy in the bridge he helped create and in all that his 
carpenter's hands produced. Emily Dickinson's poem ``In This Short 
Life'' tells us:
  ``In this short life
  That lasts an hour
  How much--how little--is
  Within our power.''
  And as we live our lives, all are affected by tragedy, some small and 
some great. It is the trials and tragedies of life which make us 
stronger and make the joys of life so much sweeter. I know this lesson 
of life does not decrease the sadness and pain felt by all those who 
knew and loved Andrew Burris. Our entire community offers its sympathy 
to those who called him father, husband, son, brother, friend, 
colleague. We celebrate him in recalling the words in ``A Song of 
Life'' by Ella Wheeler Wilcox:
  ``In the rapture of life and of living,
  I lift up my head and rejoice,
  And I thank the great Giver for giving,
  The soul of my gladness a voice.
  I lift up my eyes to Apollo,
  The god of the beautiful days
  And my spirit soars off like a swallow
  And is lost in the light of its rays.
  Come out of the world--come above it--
  Up over its crosses and graves,
  Though the green Earth is fair and I love it,
  We must love it as masters, not slaves.
  Come up where the dust never rises--
  But only the perfume of flowers--
  And your life shall be glad with surprises
  Of beautiful hours.
  Come up where the rare golden wine is
  Apollo distills in my sight,
  And your life shall be happy as mine is,
  And as full of delight.''

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