Eighty years ago, the deadliest club fire in U.S. history broke out in Boston.

“It was a clear, beautiful, crisp Saturday, Nov. 28. My life changed forever,” said Lesley Kaufman, reading a statement from her mother, Joyce Spector Mekelberg, who escaped the blaze.

On Nov, 28, 1942, more than 1,000 people packed inside the Cocoanut Grove restaurant and club to kick off the first Thanksgiving weekend since the United States entered World War II. Amid the partying, a bartender asked a busboy to fix a lightbulb on an artificial palm tree in the basement bar. Needing light to see the lightbulb and socket, the busboy struck a match. And just after that, the Cocoanut Grove went up in flames.

Mekelberg and her boyfriend, Justin Charles Morgan, saw the start of that rapidly spreading fire. Mekelberg ran up the only stairway from the basement while Morgan stayed behind to help. He was one of 490 people who died from the blaze.

The victims and legacy of that tragic night — which included crucial changes to building and fire regulations — were remembered in a public event Monday that included surviving family members, Mayor Michelle Wu, City Council President Ed Flynn and Fire Commissioner Paul Burke.

The only physical reminder of the deadly blaze has long been a modest plaque in the sidewalk, which was relocated a few years ago from its original site where the club's revolving door once stood. Next year, the city plans to debut a memorial in Statler Park designed after the Cocoanut Grove's archway facade.

“Not only will this memorial uplift the memories of all those lives we lost and the first responders who rushed to the scene, it reminds us of what we as a city have always done in moments of great sorrow and struggle,” Wu said during the ceremony. “We come together. We unite as a community. We help each other to heal and we do everything in our power to ensure that nothing like this ever happens again.”

A woman speaks into a microphone on a podium that reads "Boston Fire Department" while a person next to her holds up a black-and-white photograph of a young woman. Behind them are about a dozen other people watching.
Lesley Kaufman and Robert Rosenthal honor their mother, Joyce Spector Mekelburg, at the 80th anniversary of Cocoanut Grove fire on Monday, Nov. 28, 2022.
Frankie Rowley GBH News

Owned by Barnet "Barney" Welansky, the club had a slew of fire safety hazards. Exit doors were locked to prevent unwanted guests, the elaborate palm tree decor was made from flammable materials, the capacity exceeded twice the legal limit, and flammable gas filled the air due to a shortage of freon that was normally used to power the air conditioning. Though evidence suggests the busboy’s match or the screwing of the bulb could have ignited the fire, investigators ultimately exonerated him of responsibility, stating the exact cause as unknown.

As a result of the fire, numerous updates to building codes and fire regulations were made — requirements for emergency lighting, doors, and noncombustible building materials — helping to save countless lives.

Clubs received significant safety overhauls, resulting in the implementation of nightclub-designated fire inspectors, unscheduled fire regulation inspections, crowd counting at the door, and fire sprinklers in restaurants and clubs with capacities over 100. It also led to increased oversight for the fire department.

Cocoanut Grove street sign
A memorial wreath hangs on the street sign for Cocoanut Grove at a memorial marking the 80th anniversary of the Cocoanut Grove fire on Monday, Nov. 28, 2022.
Frankie Rowley GBH News

“This tragedy negatively affects so many lives, but has ultimately saved many more because of the lessons learned,” said Fire Commissioner Paul Burke.

Of those in attendance, family members of those impacted by the fire at Cocoanut Grove came forth to share their experiences. Children, such as Kaufman, took to the podium to tell stories of their parents escaping the building and rescuing others. One constant remained true for them all: a communal silence amongst those affected, many who were unable to communicate their trauma until years later.

“I'm embarrassed ... I didn't know much about this until probably 10 years ago,” said Curt Shumway, son of Bob Shumway, one of those who helped save victims of the fire. “My dad never mentioned it. Growing up, we always sat by the exits and I didn't quite understand that. I know we had a lot of bad experiences in the war [but I couldn’t connect] exits to the war. But it wasn't the war, it was here.”