Editor’s Note: The following is a guest post from Dylan Angus, a Construction Safety Supervisor in British Columbia, Canada. Dylan’s father Ross Angus was killed in a trade-related accident in October of 2011.
In the world of elevators, where we move the equivalent of the world’s population every three days, I’ve come to understand a profound truth: safety isn’t just a regulation, it’s a lifeline.
It’s a lesson that struck home on that pivotal day in 2011, forever altering my family’s course. This is a story of my father, Ross Angus, a loving parent and elevator constructor of unwavering dedication. This series of events reshaped my life—it was a stark reminder that regardless of skill or experience, complacency and distraction kill. Each worker deserves to return home safely to their loved ones. This is my tribute to my father, and an urgent call to prioritize safety above all else.
My dad was an elevator adjustor. He had 30 years of experience in the trade, starting when he was 17, and was the top adjuster at his company. The week of October 12th, 2011, he and a helper had been getting an elevator ready for inspection. On October 12th, the day of the inspection, his regular helper called in sick, so the company dispatched a new helper to the site. My dad was late, and when the helper tried to call him, the calls weren’t going through. There was a BlackBerry outage that day, which caused the phones not to work.
So, not being able to reach my dad, the helper decided to take the elevator up to the machine room to get started on some things for the inspection. My dad walked into the building exactly 45 seconds later and made his way to the hoistway. He inserted his lunar key into the door. When he had opened the door a couple of inches, he heard a disturbance down the hallway. Something about the situation concerned him. With his head still turned toward the people causing the disturbance, he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped in to an empty hoistway. He fell and died instantly. The helper and the inspector found him in the elevator pit a couple of hours later.
I was 16 years old at the time, in a class at school when I found out. My teacher got a call over the intercom. He told me to pack my things; I would be going home. I made my way down to the office, and that’s when I could hear my mom crying. I walked into the room, and she looked up at me and said, ‘Dylan, something horrible happened. Your father was killed at work.’
My world shattered, and the course of my life changed instantly. My whole family suffered when my dad died. He was intelligent, kind-hearted, loyal, hardworking, and selfless. He was a father, brother, son, and a husband. He was a role model to many people, and his home was a welcome place to all.
How did this happen? Well, something unanticipated happened. My dad was distracted, he assumed that the elevator was there, and it cost him his life. Let this serve as a lesson to all – no one goes to work one day expecting not to make it home. My dad was supposed to pick me up from school. Little did I know that when he dropped me off in the morning, the ‘have a good day buddy, love you’ would be the last words he ever said to me.
Allow me to be candid: rules and procedures such as the six-inch rule, live-dead-live, Lockout Tagout, hoistway/pit access, and several more, are written in blood. Let the fallen workers before you serve as a lesson to slow down, and to follow the IUEC and your company’s safety guidelines. We work to live, not live to work. We work to be able to provide for our loved ones, to secure their future, and enjoy our retirement. No job is so urgent that it should come before the ultimate goal: going home to your loved ones.
If you are an elevator mechanic, chances are that at least one time in your career you have opened a hoistway door to discover the car was not there. I ask you this – how long does it take for you to take a step forward? That is how long it takes for distraction to lead to a fatal mistake.
As I reflect on the heartbreaking story of my father, I am reminded of the fragility of life and the paramount importance of workplace safety. His story serves as a powerful lesson and an important reminder that we work in an industry with inherent risks. I hope that my father’s story causes all of us in the elevator industry to redouble our commitment to safety. May his memory inspire us to maintain the highest safety standards, protect one another, and ensure that every worker has the chance to be there for their family, just as it should be.
In the end, we work not just to make a living but to make a life—a life filled with cherished moments, family gatherings, graduations, and the joy of witnessing your children grow. Let us strive to make these moments possible for every family, for every worker, by valuing safety above all else in our industry.
Ernest Hemingway said, “Every man has two deaths, when he is buried in the ground and the last time someone says his name.” Keep the names of those on the IUEC Memorial Wall in Columbia, Maryland, in your hearts and on your lips. May their legacy be a constant reminder, so they did not die in vain.
Dylan Angus
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To find out more about the basic elevator constructor safety training provided by the National Elevator Industry Educational Program (NEIEP) and the International Union of Elevator Constructors (IUEC), take a look at these recent articles:
The Fundamentals of Safety for Elevator Technicians/Constructors
NEIEP: Increasing Elevator Mechanics’ Safety, Knowledge, and Value