Laeticia Plass still wakes up gasping some nights, the acrid smell of burning foam and the screams of trapped revelers echoing in her mind. On January 1, 2026, the 28-year-old French tourist joined hundreds of young people celebrating New Year’s at Le Constellation, a popular bar and lounge in the upscale Swiss ski resort of Crans-Montana. What began as a festive countdown ended in one of Switzerland’s worst peacetime disasters: 41 dead and 116 injured, many teenagers and young adults caught in a rapid-spreading blaze.

The fire erupted around 1:26 a.m. CET, less than two hours into the new year. Preliminary investigations by Valais canton authorities point to lit sparklers attached to champagne bottles raised high during toasts. The flames ignited soundproofing foam on the low ceiling, spreading with terrifying speed through the crowded venue. Thick black smoke filled the space almost instantly, reducing visibility to near zero and turning the air toxic.

Plass, who had traveled from Lyon for the holiday, was near the back of the bar when the first crackle of fire reached her ears. “It was like a sparkler show gone wrong,” she later recounted in an interview with swissinfo.ch. “People were cheering, bottles in the air, then suddenly this roar and heat from above.” Panic erupted as flames raced across the ceiling. Revelers surged toward exits, but the main door became a bottleneck, with bodies pressing in desperation.

Blinded by dense smoke, Plass struggled to breathe. “My lungs burned, my eyes stung so badly I couldn’t open them,” she said. “I held my breath, grabbed the person in front of me, and just moved with the crowd.” The bar’s layout—narrow corridors and a single primary exit—exacerbated the chaos. Reports later confirmed a service door had been locked, blocking potential escape routes and trapping dozens inside as fire spread.

In the crush, Plass fell, trampled underfoot by fleeing patrons. “I thought that was it,” she admitted. “I couldn’t get up, the weight was crushing.” Then a hand reached through the melee—a stranger, a tall man in his thirties, pulled her to her feet. “He yelled ‘Come on!’ and dragged me toward a side exit I didn’t even know existed,” Plass recalled. “He shielded me with his body as we pushed through.” The man, whose identity remains unknown to her, shoved her through the narrow door into freezing night air before disappearing back into the inferno to help others.

Outside, Plass collapsed in the snow, coughing violently as emergency services arrived. She suffered smoke inhalation and minor burns but escaped relatively unharmed compared to many. Firefighters battled the blaze for hours, but the rapid spread and toxic fumes claimed lives quickly. Autopsies showed most victims died from smoke inhalation and carbon monoxide poisoning rather than burns.

The disaster shocked Switzerland, prompting five days of national mourning. Crans-Montana, known for luxury chalets and world-class skiing, became a symbol of tragedy. The bar, packed beyond capacity with mostly young partygoers, highlighted systemic issues: outdated fire safety inspections (unenforced since 2020), inadequate exits, and the dangers of pyrotechnics indoors. Prosecutors opened a criminal probe into the owners, Jacques Moretti and his wife, charging manslaughter by negligence, bodily harm, and arson by negligence. Both were detained briefly before release on bail.

A makeshift memorial near the charred remains—flowers, candles, messages—caught fire itself on February 8, likely from unattended tribute candles, underscoring the lingering pain. The death toll rose to 41 when an 18-year-old succumbed to injuries in hospital a month later.

Plass’s story, shared publicly to honor the dead and push for change, emphasizes human kindness amid horror. “That stranger saved my life,” she said. “I never got his name, but I’ll always remember his voice in the dark.” She now advocates for stricter venue regulations and better emergency training, joining survivors in demanding accountability.

The tragedy exposed vulnerabilities in festive spaces: overcrowding, flammable materials, and the false security of “safe” resorts. Investigations continue, with experts analyzing whether earlier enforcement of fire codes could have prevented the loss. For Plass and hundreds more, January 1, 2026, remains a night when celebration turned to nightmare—and survival hinged on instinct, luck, and the courage of strangers.

As Switzerland heals, Laeticia Plass’s escape serves as a stark reminder: in seconds, joy can become chaos, and one person’s action can mean the difference between life and death.