The stark reality of a devastating New Year's Eve fire that claimed dozens of young lives is now settling over the Swiss ski resort of Crans-Montana, as harrowing new footage from the tragedy's early moments comes to light.
A Resort Blanketed in Sorrow
Crans-Montana was a picture of profound grief on Thursday, with any lingering holiday spirit utterly extinguished. Ski runs were closed as a mark of respect, and nearly all restaurants and bars remained shuttered. Yet, in a stark illustration of the Swiss economy's deep reliance on tourism, holidays continued unabated at other nearby ski centres.
Bruno Huggler, head of tourism for the Valais region which includes Crans, described the community's state to the BBC: "The shock is still very deep today." He explained the delicate balance officials are trying to strike: maintaining a respectful atmosphere for the victims' families while allowing other guests to continue their holidays.
In Crans itself, locals and visitors, wrapped up against sub-zero temperatures, gathered in silent reverence at makeshift shrines adorned with flowers, tributes, and candles.
The Night Revelry Turned to Tragedy
This sombre scene stood in chilling contrast to the atmosphere captured on video inside Le Constellation bar just before midnight. Shocking clips show many young revellers were initially oblivious to the danger, even as flames raced with terrifying ferocity along the insulating foam that covered the venue's low ceiling.
The fire, which broke out just after midnight on 1st January, was sparked by pyrotechnics igniting the soundproofing material. By Thursday, with the police cordon partially lifted, a sad procession of relatives and friends wandered near the scene, desperately seeking news of loved ones.
As the grim task of identifying the more than 40 bodies – and some of the 119 injured – continued, it became clear that for waiting families, no news was tragically bad news.
A Mother's Agonising Wait
One young mother, 42-year-old Laetitia Brodard-Sitre, searched in vain for her 16-year-old son, Arthur. She carried his photo on her phone and shared a poignant final message he sent from the bar at midnight, wishing her a Happy New Year.
Arthur had gone to celebrate with ten school friends; they had booked a table in advance. Only one of the group of 11 has been found. "My son is alone in a hospital, if he's alive," Ms Brodard-Sitre said. "Even if he's in a morgue... I don't know which morgue, I can't be by his side."
With many bodies severely burned, the identification process could take days or even weeks, prolonging the torturous wait for Ms Brodard-Sitre and countless other families whose children were cut down in their prime.
