In the early hours of January 1, 2026, as fireworks illuminated the snowy peaks of the Swiss Alps, a New Year’s Eve celebration at Le Constellation bar in the upscale ski resort of Crans-Montana turned into one of the deadliest tragedies in modern Swiss history. Forty people perished, and more than 116 were injured—many with severe burns—in a blaze that engulfed the crowded basement venue. Among the haunting details to emerge are desperate final messages from those trapped inside, including one victim’s last text: “Mom, I can’t breathe…” This chilling plea, sent amid thickening smoke and zero visibility, captures the terror as oxygen vanished and screams echoed through the inferno.

The bar, a popular spot for locals and young visitors rather than high-end tourists, was packed with revelers—mostly teenagers and young adults from Switzerland, France, Italy, and beyond—welcoming the new year. The venue featured affordable drinks, lively music, and a basement dance area with low ceilings covered in soundproofing foam. Just after midnight, the party was in full swing when waitstaff began the festive tradition of waving champagne bottles adorned with lit sparklers overhead. Video footage later reviewed by investigators showed these “fountain” sparklers held aloft, dangerously close to the ceiling.

Within minutes, around 1:26 a.m. CET, flames erupted. The sparklers ignited the highly flammable soundproofing material, triggering a rapid flashover. Thick, toxic smoke filled the space almost instantly, reducing visibility to zero and cutting off oxygen. Survivors described an apocalyptic scene: panic as people surged toward narrow stairs and exits, coughing violently, collapsing from smoke inhalation, and struggling against the crush. The low ceiling and basement layout trapped many, with some found near blocked or locked service doors.

One victim’s final message, “Mom, I can’t breathe…,” was sent in those agonizing moments as smoke overwhelmed the room. Such communications—texts, calls, and social media posts—have surfaced from multiple families, painting a picture of young people reaching out in desperation to loved ones. Similar farewells, like “Mom, Happy New Year, I love you” from others, have been shared publicly, underscoring the sudden shift from joy to horror. These last words have become symbols of the tragedy, shared in memorials and media tributes as families grapple with unimaginable loss.

Investigators quickly determined the fire was no deliberate attack but stemmed from negligence that allowed preventable dangers to exist. Initial findings pointed to the sparklers as the ignition source, with the soundproofing foam—known to be highly combustible—acting as an accelerant. Photos and videos circulated online showed the ceiling material catching fire as bottles were raised. Prosecutors opened a criminal investigation into the bar’s owners, Jacques and Jessica Moretti, on charges including homicide by negligence. One co-owner was detained shortly after, as authorities examined renovations, the lack of sprinklers, and whether fire extinguishers were accessible (former employees claimed some were locked away).

Further revelations shocked the nation: the bar had not undergone required annual fire safety inspections since 2019, despite local regulations mandating yearly checks for public venues. Crans-Montana’s mayor, Nicolas Féraud, admitted the oversight, expressing profound regret but offering no clear explanation for the lapse. Officials noted that soundproofing materials should have been regularly verified for fire resistance, yet no issues were flagged in prior inspections (the last in 2019). The venue lacked a sprinkler system, and emergency exits were reportedly problematic—one mother stated her daughter, familiar with the bar from past work, was found near a blocked service door.

The disaster’s scale prompted a national day of mourning on January 9, 2026, with church bells ringing for five minutes across Switzerland and a major memorial ceremony attended by European leaders. A silent procession in Crans-Montana drew hundreds, with flowers, candles, teddy bears, and messages accumulating outside the sealed-off bar. Victims included teenagers as young as 14, students, athletes (like Italian junior golfer Emanuele Galeppini), and seasonal workers. Identification took days due to severe burns, with forensic teams working tirelessly.

The aftermath has sparked outrage and calls for reform. Authorities halted plans to liberalize fire safety standards, imposed bans on indoor pyrotechnics, and ordered inspections of all local venues. Broader questions arose about Switzerland’s decentralized system, where cantons and municipalities handle enforcement, sometimes with limited resources despite the region’s wealth. Families and survivors demand accountability, with lawyers representing victims criticizing the pace of the probe. Liability claims could reach hundreds of millions, far exceeding insurance coverage.

In Crans-Montana, a resort reliant on tourism and known for luxury slopes and views of the Matterhorn, the community remains shellshocked. Residents speak of a changed atmosphere—no more carefree smiles in the streets. Survivors, many in intensive care across Europe with life-altering burns, face long recoveries. The tragedy has united the nation in grief while raising terrifying questions about safety in everyday venues: How could known risks—flammable materials, skipped inspections, and festive hazards—be allowed to persist?

The message “Mom, I can’t breathe…” lingers as a stark reminder of lives lost in seconds, a desperate cry from a young person who should have been safe celebrating the new year. As investigations continue and reforms take shape, Switzerland mourns a generation cut short and vows that such preventable horror will not happen again.