Mr. President, it is with a heavy heart that I pay tribute to LT Steven Velasquez, who sadly lost his life on July 24, 2010. We have all felt our chests tighten and our pulses quicken with anxiety at the sound of a fire engine screaming…
Mr. President, it is with a heavy heart that I pay tribute to LT Steven Velasquez, who sadly lost his life on July 24, 2010.
We have all felt our chests tighten and our pulses quicken with anxiety at the sound of a fire engine screaming through town. For most of us, this signals two important things: There is an emergency somewhere nearby, and--more importantly--that help is on the way.
Of course, for the people riding on those rigs, all the commotion is just another day at the office. They are focused solely on the task at hand.
When the unthinkable happens--a devastating hurricane, industrial accident, terrorist attack, or three-alarm fire--these brave men and women are the first on the scene and the last to leave. In between, they give all they have to make sure the emergency is contained and our communities are safe.
They do this every day of the week, every week of the year. Being a firefighter certainly isn't a job for the faint of heart. In fact, it is not so much a job as it is a calling.
At least it was for Steven Velasquez. His 20-year career took him from a position with the Fire Department of Prince Georges County, MD, to the rank of Lieutenant in the Bridgeport Fire Department in my home State of Connecticut.
Along the way, he built a reputation as a tremendously dedicated team member and as someone whose discipline and bravery made him a leader. This reputation, and the urging of many of his colleagues, helped secure him a place on the department's elite Rescue Squad--despite the fact that there were others in line for the prestigious assignment before him.
In his 16 years in Bridgeport, Velasquez never took a sick day. He was committed to his family, his community, and to his fellow firefighters.
His attitude and work ethic led to his being awarded the Bridgeport Fire Department's third highest honor in 2000, the Medal of Merit.
But awards and accolades were not why Lieutenant Velasquez became a firefighter. In fact, he never displayed the many citations he had received throughout his career on his uniform. He also turned down a job with the New York City Fire Department.
The reason being?--Bridgeport has more fires.
For Lieutenant Velasquez, and firefighters all over our Nation, the call to serve means facing danger every day. The commotion of an emergency becomes secondary to the need to help people, and the dangers they personally face must take a backseat to the task at hand.
That was the case on the afternoon of July 24, 2010, when Lieutenant Velasquez and his colleague, Michel Baik, were conducting a search-and- rescue mission on the third floor of a burning house in Bridgeport. They were deep into the blaze, looking for anyone who may need help, and trying to ventilate the structure.
None of the inhabitants of the home were injured. But tragically, both of these courageous men lost their lives, despite the quick action of their colleagues to pull them out of danger and get them to the hospital.
Tragedies are inherent in this profession, and the risks are shared by every single person who has ever gotten the call, rushed to their gear, and has run headlong into danger in order to save the life of someone else. These shared risks help to bind those called to take them together in a solemn way.
Firefighters will do anything for one another, both on the job, and when the worst happens. The more than 7,000 of their fellow firefighters--from as far away as western Canada--who attended the memorial services for Steven Velasquez and Michel Baik were an impressive testament to that bond.
I believe that the eulogy offered in tribute to Lieutenant Velasquez by International Association of Fire Fighters President Harold Schaitberger at his memorial service speaks well of this solemn commitment. Through these difficult times, the community which Steven served, and those he served with, can provide support and comfort to his loved ones.
Of course, no tribute will ever be enough to ease the suffering of their families. I offer my deepest condolences to Lieutenant Velasquez's wife Marianne, his son Aaron, his daughter Salina, and to his entire family. Their sacrifice is unimaginable, and they will always be in our thoughts and prayers.
I know that we can never make this right for them. But we must celebrate the life and service of Lieutenant Velasquez and make sure that his memory--as a role model and true hero--live on and help to inspire others to take up the call to serve.
I ask to have printed in the Record President Schaitberger's words to which I referred.
The material follows:
International Association of Fire Fighters
President Harold Schaitberger
Eulogy for Lt. Steven Velasquez, Bridgeport Local 834, Friday, July 30,
2010
Lieutenant and IAFF Local 834 member Steven Velasquez--just
40 years on this Earth--was taken too soon.
To Steven's mother, Carol, thank you for giving me the
honor of being here today to celebrate your son's life.
To his bride Marianne, his son Aaron and his daughter
Salina, to his sister Cindy and his brother Jason, to his
family and friends, to his brothers and sisters in the
Bridgeport Fire Department, and to his extended fire fighter
family, I have traveled here today to make sure you know that
the thoughts and prayers of our General Secretary-Treasurer,
our entire International Executive Board, and the more than
298,000 members of the International Association of Fire
Fighters, the Bravest in North America, are with you today.
I know that my words won't make you forget your pain or
forget your loss.
But I hope I can help you understand that to those of us
who have come from cities and towns across two great
countries--``Stevie V.'' was family to us.
Even though many of us didn't have the privilege of knowing
Stevie personally, we know who he was.
We know him because there is so much about those who enter
this profession of ours that are so similar.
A quiet courage, humble, understated--never wanting to
bring attention to themselves or their work.
Their willingness to serve a community and a public and
their readiness to sacrifice--that's how we know who ``Stevie
V.'' was.
Everyone who goes on what we call ``The Job'' becomes part
of this extended family.
We all know what this career can demand and we all know how
cruel the consequences can be.
Everyone who has taken the oath to serve in our profession
comes into it knowing the risk, and being here today
reaffirms just how dangerous this job is.
We know when we get into this calling that it could take
any one of us at any time.
It can take us after 30 years on the job or after 30 days.
That's why we are one big family--no matter where we really
call home--because everyone here knows just how rewarding--
and yet how brutal, this job is.
And even while we know the consequences nothing prepares us
to cope with the grief that we feel when we lose a brother or
a sister in the line of duty--let alone two.
Many of us are together for the first time today.
We will come together again this afternoon to honor Mitch
Baik.
We will come together and we will be there for each other
because no one in our fire service family should ever have to
go through this alone.
And no family member of a fallen fire fighter should ever
have to go through this alone.
But Mitch's loss and Stevie's loss will not prevent us from
celebrating their lives today.
It will not prevent us from celebrating their service to
their community today.
It will not prevent me from saying that my heart is broken
that they are gone but we were blessed to have them in our
lives.
Stevie Velasquez was both a young man and a grizzled
veteran.
At just 40 years of age he already had two decades in the
fire station.
He already was wise beyond his years.
For 20 years in two departments Stevie demonstrated his
work ethic and set an example for others to follow.
That's why he received the Medal of Merit--the department's
third-highest award--in? 2000.
That's why he made lieutenant five months ago.
Bursting at the seams with enthusiasm ready to hop on a rig
and respond to any call afraid of nothing, eager to
experience everything, and ready to give everything he had to
do The Job.
He had an efficient, studious approach.
He understood the importance of training and the importance
of being prepared.
Committed, duty bound, ready to serve in the hardest, most
rewarding job imaginable--that's who Stevie was.
Ready to rush to the aid of strangers, no questions asked--
that's who he was.
Ready to protect his community, ready to comfort those in
need, ready to lead people to safety who couldn't find their
way out--that's who he was.
A devoted family man standing vigil over his newborn
daughter's bedside while she gained the strength she needed
to persevere--that's who he was.
He protected his community and his family--that's who
``Stevie V'' he was.
Like many of us he probably considered himself lucky to be
a fire fighter, lucky to be able to answer the call, lucky to
do something he loved.
But we were the lucky ones.
The Bridgeport Fire Department, Local 834, the IAFF--we
were the lucky ones.
His brothers and sisters in Prince George's County Maryland
where Stevie started his career in the fire service--they
were the lucky ones.
His wife, his children, his parents, his brother and
sister--you were the lucky ones.
That's what I would tell him if he were standing here
today.
We had quite a gift in Lieutenant Steven Velasquez.
And that's why we feel cheated that we have to give him
back to the Lord so soon.
But we will not forget him.
How could we?
A young gun . . . a rising star.
A shining example of courage, of professionalism.
Stevie's name will be etched in our Wall of Honor in
Colorado Springs.
His name will remain there forever, engraved in that
beautiful granite wall--to be honored every year as part of
our Fallen Fire Fighter Memorial service.
To Stevie's family, we want you to know that you aren't
alone.
You should know that long after the last word of the last
eulogy, the IAFF and Local 834 will be here for you. Today,
tomorrow, and for years to come.
To Lieutenant Steven Velasquez, who gave his life so others
could live, from your 298,000 brothers and sisters in the
IAFF--thank you for the gift of your life. May you rest in
peace. God bless you and may God bless the fire fighters on
the front lines everywhere.