Joyce Spector Mekelburg, the second-last known survivor of the Cocoanut Grove fire, dies at the age of 100

“I think this saved my life,” she said as she walked away when Morgan called out and promised to join her soon.

Mrs. Mekelburg, who turned 100 on Tuesday, was one of only two remaining survivors of the Cocoanut Grove fire when she died Thursday in her NewBridge at Charles Retirement Home in Dedham.

The nightclub fire killed 492 people in one of the country’s deadliest fire tragedies. That night she wore a ring that Morgan had given her, and she would later write that although she had not officially said yes to his marriage proposal, she considered him her fiancé and was deeply in love.

As she went upstairs from the basement lounge, she informed others that a fire had broken out downstairs, and moments later she was pushed to the floor as terrified customers rushed to escape.

“The whole place was one crowd — screaming, shouting, pushing,” she told the Globe for an article published two days after the fire.

When she offered help to a fallen woman, “a big man pushed me in the back and knocked me down,” Ms. Mekelburg said.

Suddenly, at eye level between the rushing feet, she saw fire seeping up through the floor from the Melody Lounge.

“I felt the flames licking me and I crawled on my hands and knees under the tables. All I remember is people stepping on me, on my head and back,” she told a fire investigator a few days later.

She couldn’t remember how she got to the back exit, “but suddenly I felt the air on my face,” she said in the Globe interview, “and my head was sticking out the door and someone grabbed me.” and pulled me out.”

The fire scorched her hair and blistered her face with second-degree burns. And although the wounds healed, her memories never faded – even in the decades when she didn’t tell her children what she had survived. They found out by seeing her name in a book about the tragedy.

Mrs. Mekelburg’s three children from her first marriage did not know her for years after her dramatic escape from Boston’s worst fire tragedy and knew her only as a fun, attentive mother.

“She was wonderful – kind, beautiful, very affectionate,” said her daughter, Lesley Kaufman of Millis. “My friends loved her. Everyone loved her. She was the center of the group, very compassionate.”

Mrs. Mekelburg, a talented dancer who won competitions with her first husband, Dr. Robert W. Rosenthal, was seen in a newspaper photo dancing the jitterbug on Boston Common, dunked far back by her partner.

“She was beautiful,” said her son, Rick Rosenthal of Framingham. “I don’t know exactly what year, but she went to Hollywood and was tested by MGM.”

Then her mother became ill and she returned home. In addition to helping raise her children, Mrs. Mekelburg worked for a time in the psychology department at Boston University, giving employment tests.

She also served as an administrative assistant at Lord & Taylor and at Bank of America, and was an executive assistant at Massachusetts General Hospital.

But ever present were memories of November 28, 1942, the night when “my life changed forever,” she wrote in a 2000 memoir for her family.

“Joyce is an integral part of the Cocoanut Grove community,” Paul R. Miller, chairman of the Cocoanut Grove Memorial Committee, wrote in an email.

“In fact, she is a pillar of our collective commitment to always remember,” Miller wrote of her role while conducting interviews for the documentary “Six Locked Doors: The Legacy of the Cocoanut Grove.”

Years later, even though Ms. Mekelburg knew her then-fiancé, Justin Morgan, had died in the fire, “I would look for him on the street — but of course couldn’t find him,” she wrote.

“I loved him then and I love him still,” she added. “You never really stop loving your first love.”

Joyce Rosiland Spector, the youngest of three siblings and the only girl, was born on April 16, 1924 and grew up in Garden Street in the West End.

Her birth name was Goldie Rose Spector, but an elementary school teacher decided that this was “not appropriate enough to be an American name,” she wrote in her memoir. Her brothers “sat down with a dictionary and came up with Joyce Rosiland.”

Their parents, Mier Spector and Anne Kaminsky Spector, were immigrants from what is now Ukraine and worked in Mier’s tailoring and dry cleaning business in Charlestown.

Joyce graduated from Fay School in Southborough before the Cocoanut Grove fire. After living in California for a short time after the fire, she married Robert Rosenthal, whom she had dated in high school.

Their marriage ended in divorce 38 years later and she married A. Richard Mekelburg, who predeceased her. Ms. Mekelburg’s other son, Hal Rosenthal, died in 2015.

“She writes that her two marriages, first to my father and then to Richard, filled her life,” Lesley wrote in a tribute to her mother, adding that “my parents were everything to me and we had a wonderful childhood.”

The family lived in Sharon for many years, where “we made lifelong friends that I still have,” Mrs. Mekelburg wrote.

In addition to her time with her family and her jobs, she worked on campaigns for Democratic candidates and was chapter president of the Jewish organization Hadassah.

“It was a blessing to have her in our lives, and we are so happy,” said her granddaughter, Meredith Rosenthal of Jamaica Plain. “A hundred years is just amazing.”

In addition to her daughter, son and granddaughter, Mrs. Mekelburg is survived by three grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren.

A funeral service will be held at 10 a.m. Thursday at Stanetsky Memorial Chapels in Canton.

Although Mrs. Mekelburg always mourned Morgan’s death in the Cocoanut Grove fire, she “tirelessly found joy in every way and in every moment where it could be found,” her granddaughter wrote in a Facebook post.

“She dressed beautifully, thrived on theater, music, and dance (and she could dance!), loved to travel and socialize, attended every party she could, and cherished the fact that she was a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, wife, aunt and friend,” Meredith wrote.

In her memoirs, Ms. Mekelburg wrote of her determination to continue living enthusiastically, even in her later years.

“Life doesn’t stop because the clock runs out,” she wrote. “You just put on a little lipstick, comb your hair, look around, count your blessings and face the day.”

Bryan Marquard can be reached at [email protected].