In this Feb. 11, 2011 file photo, Rep. Robert Andrews (D-N.J.), left, accompanied by Rep. Tim Bishop (D-N.Y.), speaks on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C. Andrews announced Tuesday that he is resigning from Congress after 23 years. (J. Scott Applewhite/AP) 
 
 In his 23 years in Congress, Rep. Robert E. Andrews (D-N.J.) has written 646 different pieces of legislation. That is a vast array of bills, covering a vast number of subjects: children’s pajamas, relations with Taiwan, commemorative coins and trade duties on licorice. 
 
 But all of Andrews’s bills had one thing in common. 
 
 They didn’t become law. 
 
 Only four of Andrews’s hundreds of bills have ever passed the House of Representatives. But none of them passed the Senate, so none made it to the president’s desk. 
 
 Even in Congress, where the vast majority of bills fail, that is an unusually awful batting average. By those numbers, Andrews would be America’s least successful lawmaker of the past two decades. 
 
 Andrews, 56, said Tuesday he would resign in two weeks, taking a position at the law firm Dilworth Paxson. In an interview Tuesday, he insisted that these statistics don’t capture his true record in Congress. 
 
 The reason, he said, is that the classic idea of how lawmaking works — an idea becomes a bill, the bill gets a debate, and the debate ends with a vote — does not mean much on today’s Capitol Hill. 
 
 “ ‘I’m Just a Bill on Capitol Hill’ is not the way this works. Freestanding bills almost never happen,” Andrews said, referencing the “Schoolhouse Rock” cartoon about how a bill sings and dances its way through Congress. 
 
 Instead, lawmaking is now done with massive pieces of legislation crammed full of ideas that might have little to do with one another. What looks like failure, Andrews said, is actually his success at working the new system. 
 
 “You should ask yourself how many of the ideas that were a seed planted in the bill that germinated in a larger bill. That’s the way this really works,” he said. In all, he estimated, about 110 of his ideas have become law after being stuck into somebody else’s bill. 
 
 Andrews has spent the past two decades as a semi-liberal backbencher with no real leadership roles in the House. Andrews’s legislative clout was reduced sharply when Republicans took the House in 2011, and also by lingering allegations that he used campaign funds to pay for personal and family trips. 
 
 But a look at Andrews’s bills shows that his lawmaking ambitions have been enormous, even when his power was not. 
 
 Since Andrews arrived in Congress, no other representative has introduced more bills. In second place is Rep. Carolyn B. Maloney (D-N.Y.), followed by Rep. Don Young (R-Alaska), Rep. Charles B. Rangel (D-N.Y.) and former congressman Ron Paul (R-Tex.). 
 
 But all of those other lawmakers have managed to pass something into law sometime in their career. Maloney has had nine bills signed into law. Young has had 76. Rangel has had 38. And even Paul had one, a minor bill to convey a piece of federal property in Galveston, Tex. 
 
 Andrews has not. The closest he has come has been to watch a senator introduce a bill similar to one of his and then see that Senate bill become law. That’s happened twice, according to Joshua Tauberer, whose site govtrack.us allows users to track and compare vast amounts of data on Congress. 
 
 Although it was the companion bills to Andrews’s that were enacted, Tauberer said, he should get some credit for their success. 
 
 “Only one of the two companion bills will actually become law, but the work to get either enacted may have been shared by the two sponsors equally,” Tauberer said. “It’s helpful to keep companion bills in mind when quantifying legislative activity.” 
 
 In one case, in 1992, both Andrews and Sen. Frank R. Lautenberg (D-N.J.) introduced bills to name a federal courthouse in Camden, N.J. Lautenberg’s version was the one the president signed. 
 
 Also, in 1999, both Andrews and Sen. Jeff Sessions (R-Ala.) introduced bills that changed the rules governing benefit plans run by churches. It was Sessions’s bill that, after significant amendments, became law. 
 
 The many other bills submitted by Andrews have, over the years, included 11 related to Taiwan, often seeking to show U.S. support for that country in its disputes with China. He has sponsored five bills to mint a commemorative coin in honor of Korean immigrants. And he has introduced at least 30 bills that would lower duties on chemicals used in manufacturing — everything from licorice extract to methoxycarbonyl-terminated perfluorinated polyoxymethylene-polyoxyethylene. 
 
 And he struck out every time. 
 
 At least on paper. 
 
 “People think . . . well, you introduce a bill, and then you walk around and try to get people to co-sponsor it” and then it passes, Andrews said. “You know, that happens about as often as a black swan.” 
 
 Instead, Andrews says, he introduces bills so that he has legislative language ready for an opening. That opening, usually, is what Hill staffers call a “moving vehicle” — a giant piece of legislation that, unlike most of Congress’s inert bills, actually has a chance of passage. 
 
 “What happens in 90 percent of the [cases] is that certain bills move because they have to,” Andrews said — often because some important deadline is about to expire. “And those bills carry with them hundreds of ideas, or thousands of ideas that people have worked on over the years.” 
 
 Andrews said he has learned how to get his ideas on board by stockpiling legislative language that can be easily picked up and inserted into larger legislation. 
 
 As evidence of his success, he cited changes to the military health-care program Tricare and rules about insurance coverage of orthotic devices. Some other ideas have changed government policy without being passed in any form: In 2012, Andrews trumpeted a decision by mortgage firms Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac to require prompt decisions on short sales. Andrews’s actual bill to require that change had died on Capitol Hill. ||||| 22 Gallery: Assembly Minority Leader Alex DeCroce dies at 75 
 
 UPDATE: READ THE LATEST COVERAGE ON THE DEATH OF ALEX DECROCE 
 
 TRENTON — Longtime Assemblyman Alex DeCroce, the leading Republican of the state’s lower house who represented Morris County for 23 years, collapsed and died in a bathroom inside the Statehouse late Monday night, just moments after the 214th Legislature held its final voting session. 
 
 DeCroce, 75, of Parsippany, began serving the 26th Legislative District in the Assembly in 1989 and was the Republican minority leader since 2003. 
 
 In a statement released early this morning, Gov. Chris Christie expressed sadness over the loss of "a dear friend, colleague and mentor" whom he has known for nearly 20 years and who helped give him his start in politics. 
 
 "He was one of the most kind, considerate and trustworthy people I have ever had the pleasure to know," Christie said. "He was an enormously accomplished legislator and a tremendous servant to the people of New Jersey." 
 
 He added: "This is an enormous loss for our state and for me personally." 
 
 
 
 ALEX DeCROCE BIOGRAPHY • Born: June 10, 1936 
 
 • Hometown: Parsippany 
 
 • Education: Seton Hall University 
 
 • Occupation: Realtor, ERA Gallo & DeCroce 
 
 • Political career: State Assembly 1989-2012, representing the 26th District in Morris County; Assembly Republican Leader, 2003-2012; Deputy Speaker of Assembly, 1994-2001; Republican Conference Leader, 2002-2003 Source: New Jersey Legislature 
 
 State Police Lt. Stephen Jones said a legislator died shortly before 11:30 p.m. in a first-floor restroom of the Statehouse. He said a physician on hand attended to the legislator but that he was found to be dead. Lawmakers said Assemblyman Herb Conaway (D-Burlington), the Legislature’s only doctor, was the one who attended to DeCroce. 
 
 An emotional Christie — wearing a suit jacket over a Notre Dame T-shirt, no socks and loafers — showed up at the Statehouse at midnight with four staffers. He hugged Assembly Speaker Sheila Oliver (D-Essex), Senate President Stephen Sweeney (D-Gloucester) and Sen. Steven Oroho (R-Essex) outside party offices and then held a meeting. 
 
 Legislative sources early this morning said Christie will not deliver his anticipated State of the State address, which had been scheduled for 3 p.m. today. Instead, they said, the governor expects to meet his constitutional requirement to address the Legislature with a brief talk that may eulogize DeCroce. 
 
 Spokesmen for Senate and Assembly Democrats said the state will hold an informal swearing-in for new lawmakers and a reorganization of party leadership at noon at the Statehouse. The swearing-in ceremony was supposed to attract hundreds of family and friends, but now lawmakers are urging them to stay home. 
 
 The spokesmen said they would have delayed the events, but they are required to hold them under the state Constitution. 
 
 Word of DeCroce’s death began circulating among lawmakers through calls and text messages about 11:30 p.m., almost immediately after the Senate wrapped up its marathon lame-duck session. Assemblyman Jon Bramnick (R-Union), the highest ranking Republican under DeCroce, was seen in a Statehouse hallway crying. 
 
 Michael Drewniak, a spokesman for Christie, said he was at a loss for words. 
 
 "What a shocking loss," Drewniak said. "He was the state’s finest elder statesman." 
 
 Staffers lined the staircases outside the party offices and exchanged hugs in stunned silence. Sen. Kevin O’Toole (R-Essex) said DeCroce was "the most unselfish leader." 
 
 "I’m absolutely heartbroken by this," O’Toole said. "The state will miss this guy for a long time. Everybody loved him. Wherever you went, anyone who interacted with Alex absolutely loved him." 
 
 DeCroce was born in Morristown in 1936 and graduated from Boonton High School before attending Seton Hall. DeCroce was selected to fill a vacancy and sworn in to his Assembly seat 1989. He was elected to his first full term in November of that year and was the state's longest serving member of the Assembly. 
 
 DeCroce attended Seton Hall University and worked as a realtor for ERA Gallo & DeCroce, his legislative biography said. Among the committees he was recently serving on were the Bipartisan Leadership Committee, where he served as the co-chairman, and the Legislative Services Commission. He is survived by his wife Mary Lou, the deputy commissioner of the Department of Community Affiairs, three adult children and two grandchildren. 
 
 DeCroce was a Morris County freeholder from 1984 to 1989 and served on both the Morris County Tax Board and Board of Elections, according to his legislative biography. He was also the chairman of the County College of Morris Board of Trustees. 
 
 Among his achievements, DeCroce sponsored a law that renewed the state Transportation Trust Fund, dedicated motor fuels tax for transportation projects, and amended the state Constitution to protect and strengthen the rights of crime victims, his biography said. 
 
 Oliver and Assemblyman Louis Greenwald (D-Camden) said in a joint statement that they were "saddened beyond words." 
 
 "He was always someone ready with a handshake and a laugh, no matter the circumstance, and his devotion to the people of New Jersey was unwavering," they said. 
 
 By Christopher Baxter and Jarrett Renshaw/Statehouse Bureau
– New Jersey Democrat Rob Andrews made a surprise announcement today that he'll be giving up his House seat as of Feb. 18 to join a Philadelphia law firm, reports Philly.com. And while it's big news in Jersey, Andrews isn't exactly a household name nationally. Still, the Washington Post observes that he's got a legislative track record remarkable in its own way: Over 23 years, not one of the 646 pieces of legislation Andrews authored has become law. All the more impressive is that no representative has introduced more bills than him in that span. Sure, most bills fail in Congress, but "by those numbers, Andrews would be America’s least successful lawmaker of the past two decades," writes David Fahrenthold. Andrews, described as a "semi-liberal back-bencher," defends himself by saying that modern lawmaking these days is done through massive pieces of legislation, not through individual bills. By his own reckoning, Andrews estimates that 110 of his ideas have become law in that fashion. If he wants to eliminate the goose egg, however, maybe he can rename a post office in his final two weeks?