The Oregon Occupational Safety and Health Division (Oregon OSHA or OR-OSHA) is a state government agency that regulates workplace safety and health in the U.S. state of Oregon. Oregon OSHA is a division of the Oregon Department of Consumer and Business Services and operates under a formal state-plan agreement with Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA). Oregon OSHA's regulatory authority comes from the Oregon Safe Employment Act (OSEA); its jurisdiction covers most public and private sector workplaces in the state. Oregon OSHA's expressed mission is "to advance and improve workplace safety and health for all workers in Oregon."
Read more about Oregon Occupational Safety And Health Division: History, Programs and Services, See Also, Further Reading
Famous quotes containing the words oregon, occupational, safety, health and/or division:
“When Paul Bunyan’s loggers roofed an Oregon bunkhouse with shakes, fog was so thick that they shingled forty feet into space before discovering they had passed the last rafter.”
—State of Oregon, U.S. public relief program (1935-1943)
“There is, I confess, a hazard to the philosophical analysis of humor. If one rereads the passages that have been analyzed, one may no longer be able to laugh at them. This is an occupational hazard: Philosophy is taking the laughter out of humor.”
—A.P. Martinich (b. 1946)
“He had a gentleman-like frankness in his behaviour, and as a great point of honour as a minister can have, especially a minister at the head of the treasury, where numberless sturdy and insatiable beggars of condition apply, who cannot all be gratified, nor all with safety be refused.”
—Philip Dormer Stanhope, 4th Earl Chesterfield (1694–1773)
“The filth and noise of the crowded streets soon destroy the elasticity of health which belongs to the country boy.”
—Rutherford Birchard Hayes (1822–1893)
“Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears;
Yet slower yet, oh faintly gentle springs:
List to the heavy part the music bears,
“Woe weeps out her division when she sings.”
Droop herbs and flowers;
Fall grief in showers;
“Our beauties are not ours”:
Oh, I could still,
Like melting snow upon some craggy hill,
Drop, drop, drop, drop,
Since nature’s pride is, now, a withered daffodil.”
—Ben Jonson (1572–1637)