In the snow-covered streets of Crans-Montana, a Swiss Alpine ski resort once synonymous with luxury and carefree winter celebrations, a 16-year-old survivor has returned to the site of unimaginable horror. The young man, who has asked to be identified only as Axel for privacy reasons amid the ongoing trauma, narrowly escaped the deadly fire at Le Constellation bar on New Year’s Eve 2025, which claimed 40 lives and injured 116 others in the early hours of January 1, 2026. Nine of his close friends—teenagers who had gathered for what was meant to be a joyful night—did not make it out.
Axel, a local resident and regular at the venue, recounted his escape in a poignant interview upon his emotional return to the cordoned-off site earlier this month. “I flipped the table and escaped through hell,” he said, his voice trembling as he stood near the makeshift memorial of flowers, candles, and messages that now marks the spot where the bar once stood. The phrase has since gone viral, capturing the raw desperation and ingenuity that saved his life while underscoring the nightmare that unfolded for so many others.
The fire erupted around 1:26 a.m. in the basement of Le Constellation, a popular two-story bar and nightclub known for attracting a young crowd, including many teenagers. The legal drinking age for beer and wine in the Valais region is 16, making it a go-to spot for New Year’s festivities. Witnesses and preliminary investigations indicate the blaze started when lit sparklers attached to champagne bottles were raised too close to the ceiling, igniting highly flammable acoustic foam installed during recent renovations. The flames spread with terrifying speed, creating a wall of heat and toxic smoke that filled the underground space.
Axel described arriving with his group of friends—nine boys and girls he had known since childhood—eager to ring in the new year. They were in the basement dance area when the first sparks appeared. “At first, we thought it was part of the show, like fireworks or something fun,” he recalled. “People were laughing, filming it. Then the ceiling caught, and everything changed in seconds.” Panic set in as smoke thickened and visibility dropped to near zero. The narrow staircase to the ground floor became a deadly bottleneck, with bodies piling up in the crush.
In the chaos, Axel spotted a table near a window. “I just reacted—I flipped the table over, used it to smash the glass, and climbed out. The heat was unbearable, like being in an oven. I could hear screams behind me, people calling for help.” He made it outside into the freezing night air, suffering burns to his arms and hands, but alive. Once safe, he tried desperately to help others, but the flames and smoke made re-entry impossible. “I kept shouting for my friends, but no one came out after me,” he said. “Nine of them… gone. Just like that.”
The tragedy’s scale quickly became clear: 40 dead, half of them minors, with victims ranging in age from 14 to 39. Many perished from smoke inhalation, severe burns, or being trapped in the crush. Among the deceased were promising young people like 16-year-old Italian golfer Emanuele Galeppini, whose body remained remarkably intact, prompting separate questions from his family. Identification took days, relying on DNA, dental records, and personal items due to the horrific condition of many remains.
Axel’s return to the scene, just over a week after the fire, was deeply emotional. Standing amid the tributes—photos of smiling teenagers, handwritten notes, and stuffed animals—he spoke of survivor’s guilt and the weight of loss. “I see their faces every time I close my eyes. We were supposed to grow up together—go to school, ski, maybe travel. Now they’re gone, and I’m here asking why me?” He described the moment he realized the full extent: “When the police told me the names… it felt like the ground disappeared. Nine friends. Nine. How do you live with that?”
His words have resonated globally, shared widely on social media and in news reports. Many describe them as heartbreaking, a raw testament to youth cut short and the enduring pain of those left behind. Axel emphasized the bar’s popularity with teenagers: “It was our place. Affordable, fun, no big cover charge. Everyone went there.” Yet he now questions the safety lapses that contributed to the disaster—narrow exits, potentially locked doors, non-compliant materials, and no recent fire inspections despite legal requirements.
The investigation continues, with French co-owners Jacques and Jessica Moretti under scrutiny for negligence. Jacques was detained preventively, while Jessica is under house arrest. Prosecutors probe manslaughter, bodily harm, and arson by negligence. The owners have expressed sorrow, with Jessica issuing a public apology, but questions persist about why annual safety checks were skipped since 2019 and whether age restrictions were enforced.
A national day of mourning on January 9 brought the country together, with church bells ringing, vigils, and a memorial ceremony attended by leaders from France and Italy. Survivors like Axel joined silent processions, laying flowers at the site. The community, once vibrant with tourists and locals, now grapples with profound grief and calls for stricter regulations across Alpine venues.
For Axel, the road ahead is uncertain. He receives psychological support and has been treated for burns. “I don’t know if I’ll ever go to a bar again,” he admitted. “But I have to speak out—for my friends, for everyone who didn’t make it. Something has to change.” His story of flipping the table and escaping through hell serves as both a miracle of survival and a heartbreaking reminder of what was lost that fateful night.
As Crans-Montana heals, Axel’s words echo a universal plea: that no more young lives be stolen by preventable tragedy.
