'You Think You Will Turn The Corner and See Her'

Beth Mosczynski had worked at Temp-Flex Cable Inc. in Grafton for nearly 14 years when she finally got an office of her own.

“She was so happy,’’ said Rose Baril, the company’s human resource manager. “She finally got her own spot.’’

Today, that office still stands but the energy that filled it has been replaced by a serene stillness. Her beloved soccer ball and M&M container sit on shelves near a stained glass window etched with a gate, a lion and a lamb and a single bright star in the sky. 

That star represents Beth.

Within a few months of landing her own office, Beth Mosczynski went to a concert Feb.  20, 2003 featuring a favorite rock band, Great White, at the Station nightclub in Warwick. R.I.

 She never came home.

Beth died eight years ago today in the blaze, one of 100 victims of one of the worst nightclub fires in American history. She was 34.

And the office she took such pride in now stands as a memorial to her memory and a place where employees can seek shelter where they are ill, contemplative or just need a break from the pressures of the day.

 Eight years later, the pain of her loss remains fresh to her co-workers. Tears still flow as they remember the Thursday they saw her last, an ordinary day that now carries extraordinary poignancy. 

“You think you are going to turn the corner and see her sometimes,’’ said Kim Gamblin.

Beth began her career at the company when she was 19. Her final job was as quality representative, helping to solve any potential problems for customers. 

The job required high energy, determination and an upbeat personality, all of which she had, her colleagues said. 

“You could feed off her energy,’’ Gamblin said.

“She would always smile,’’ Phillip Buchieri said. “If you were in a bad mood, or on the verge of a bad mood, she would take it away.’’

“Even when she was frustrated with something, she would grin and bear it,’’ said Jess Dallis.

“That was the shocker,’’ said Larry Osbourne. “How could it happen to someone like her?''

Baril was working the day after the fire when an employee called with news that Beth had attended the concert and had not been heard from.

“That’s how it started,’’ she said.

On Monday, a prayer service was held at the company and a yellow heart was placed outside her office, where it remains today.  On Wednesday, the official word came that Beth had been killed.

The news devastated her colleagues. “Waiting for the list to come out….That was a terrible time when you come right down to it,’’ Osbourne said.

“It was a quiet time at Temp-Flex, very somber,’’ said Donna Tomaszewicz .

And for some colleagues, including sisters Tammi LeClair and Susan Gosselin, Beth was practically family. “She was like having another sister,’’ LeClair said. Like many families, they took photos of holiday gatherings, birthday parties, family get-togethers.

“Beth’s in them all,’’ she said with a sad smile. 

Nearly a decade later, her memory, like her office, remains entrenched at the company. “Her memory will live forever,’’ Baril said.

Beth is gone, but the employee who trained so many colleagues is still teaching them.

“We always take for granted that we are going to live a long time,’’ said Kay Boisvert.

But, as they learned that awful day eight years ago, that is not always the case.

“You need to do and say the things you want to do and say,’’ Dallis said. “Because you just don’t know what tomorrow’s going to bring.’’