Beyond the statistics of workplace safety dangers are the families and friends of at least 316 region workers who lost their lives laboring in various private and public sector jobs over nearly four decades.

As part of a three-month Times investigation of more than 15,000 federal and state Occupational Safety and Health Administration inspection records, The Times also spoke to the surviving friends and family of fallen workers.

In honor of Labor Day, here are some of their stories:

Terry Brimer

Naomi Brimer hugs daughter her 4-year-old daughter, Kaci, tightly, kissing her head and remembering the man who would have been the little girl's father.

"She knows Terry would have been her dad if he wouldn't have died," Brimer said of her husband Terry's death on New Year's Day 2004.

The couple had spoken of adopting a child in late 2003 and decided to wait until after the new year to act on the desire.

Terry Brimer, a Hammond resident and wastewater treatment worker at the BP Whiting Refinery, died from head trauma after a rusted rail against which he was leaning collapsed at work. His death at age 44 came before he could know the joy of being a father, Naomi Brimer said.

Though she misses every day the man she describes as her best friend, Naomi Brimer, now of Schererville, decided to move forward with the dream she shared with her husband.

In 2005, she began the process of adopting a child from China and in September 2006 became the mother of little Kaci.

"I don't know what I would do without her," Naomi Brimer said of the friendly, talkative girl, proud of her pink room, matching curtains and two stuffed panda bears, one from her native China. "I felt lost without Terry. Now I know I would feel lost without her."

Kaci often asks about the man who would have been her father.

"One time, I told her about how Terry used to give me flowers," Naomi Brimer said. "So she made flowers out of pipe cleaners with her grandma and gave them to me."

And during a recent breakfast, Kaci told her mother she was sad because she missed Terry.

"Even though she never met him, she still feels a connection," Naomi Brimer said. "The two of them would have hit it off so well."

 

Fred 'Freddy' Biedron

Fred "Freddy" Biedron was a go-getter from his first day as a Hammond firefighter, retired firefighter Tom Markovich recalled.

So it was no surprise when Biedron, 34, volunteered to get a forklift while his department fought a fire Dec. 16, 1991, at a George C. Meyer Co. building. Firefighters wanted Biedron to move some things with the forklift to get to what appeared to be a manageable blaze.

"We didn't think it was a big deal," Markovich said of Biedron heading off by himself. "A few minutes after he left, the fire took off."

Markovich said the fire "erupted like a big fireball," and all the firefighters scrambled to get out.

"All the water in the world at that moment wouldn't have put the fire out," he remembered.

Biedron was still inside the building when the fire exploded. Firefighters didn't find his body for nearly a week, Markovich said.

"There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish we could play that back a few minutes," Markovich said of letting Biedron go by himself. "We're lucky we didn't lose a bunch of guys that day."

Biedron's father, also named Fred Biedron, was also a Hammond firefighter who died on the job. He suffered a heart attack in 1968 while fighting a brush fire.

Debbie Wojciechowski said her brother, the younger Freddy Biedron, was 10 years old when he became man of the house after their father's death. She said he was determined to follow in their father's footsteps.

"He'd give the shirt off his back to help anybody, everybody," she said.

Markovich said Biedron was "a good guy to have at your side."

"He was the kind of firefighter who you had to order out of a fire," Markovich said.

Biedron was equally dedicated to his family. He fought for firefighters' rights in the union, helped other firefighters with their cars and worked as a roofer on the side, Markovich recalled. He also loved pulling pranks.

"He'd work all day long to come up with some joke on a fellow firefighter," Markovich said, laughing at memories of greased door handles and lockers sealed with glue. "He'd work all day long to get 30 seconds of fame on it."

Mario Ortiz

Mario Ortiz always wanted a big family, said his mother, Ava Miller.

"He used to say he loved the way newborns smelled, and he wanted a big family because he was lonely growing up by himself," she recalled.

When 25-year-old Ortiz died March 27, 1996, in an explosion at Beta Steel, he left behind the large family of which he had dreamed. His life revolved around his wife and five children, three of whom were from a previous relationship, Miller said.

Ortiz was just as committed to his work. He considered his co-workers family and always lent a hand to guys who had trouble learning their jobs, Miller recalled.

"I remember his smile," Miller said softly. "I remember him being happy. He was just a warm person. He wasn't a troublemaker or a bully."

Ortiz attended Portage High School, where he and his friends won an "air band" contest by performing "Emergency" by Kool & the Gang, Miller added. He later earned his GED through adult education.

Miller said her son also loved to play the drums before his children came along. After they were born, he worked, fished and spent his time with them.

"He was too good for this earth. That's why he's not here," Miller said. "God needed another angel. ... I know he's watching over us and his children."