By: Chaya Abecassis

By the time champagne flutes were meant to be clinking in celebration beneath the snow-dusted peaks of Crans-Montana, terror had already replaced revelry. What was supposed to be a glittering Alpine farewell to the old year instead became a tableau of smoke, screams and scorched timber — and an Orthodox Jewish Israeli singer is now telling how close his family came to being swallowed by the blaze.

As reported on Thursday by VIN News, the New Year’s Eve explosion that ripped through a nightclub in the prestigious Swiss ski resort of Crans-Montana has left a pall of shock hanging over the usually serene canton of Valais. Among those caught in the maelstrom was Moshe Lukk, an Orthodox Israeli singer vacationing with his wife and children, who says he was just meters away from the epicenter when the building erupted in fire.

“We were sitting down to eat when suddenly there was a massive explosion,” Lukk told the Israeli news outlet Kikar HaShabbat in remarks that were later relayed by VIN News. “At first we didn’t understand what had happened. Then we saw flames and thick black smoke coming from the building. Within seconds, everything was on fire.”

The account, now circulating widely through Jewish and Israeli media, reads like something from a disaster film: holiday lights reflecting off plumes of soot, music silenced by the roar of flames, and the Alpine calm shattered by the raw sound of panic.

Crans-Montana, perched high in the Swiss Alps and renowned for its luxury chalets and après-ski nightlife, had been packed with holidaymakers from across Europe and beyond. The nightclub at the heart of the explosion sits in the resort’s bustling center — precisely where revelers congregate as midnight approaches.

Lukk recounted that the blast came late Thursday night, just as New Year’s festivities were peaking. According to the VIN News report, witnesses described a sudden, thunderous detonation followed immediately by a column of flame that shot through the wooden structure.

“There was complete panic,” Lukk said. “People were screaming, running, pushing. Some were trying to break windows to get out, others were jumping down to the street to escape the flames. It was terrifying.”

In the dense crush of bodies, instinct replaced reason. Patrons scrambled over tables, crashed through doorways, and poured onto the snow-covered streets as thick smoke billowed into the night sky. Lukk, who was nearby with his family, said he watched in disbelief as injured clubgoers staggered outside.

“You see people on the ground and you don’t know if they’re unconscious or worse,” he said in the interview cited by VIN News. “It’s not something you expect to witness, especially so many young people.”

Swiss authorities confirmed that the explosion occurred at a central nightclub, igniting a fire that rapidly engulfed the building. Emergency responders rushed to the scene, but by the time firefighters arrived, flames were already consuming large portions of the wooden structure.

Police immediately cordoned off the area, evacuating neighboring buildings and diverting crowds away from the blaze. According to the VIN News report, ambulances lined the street as medics treated the injured, though officials have yet to release a final casualty count.

By the morning after, the resort was a shadow of its former holiday cheer. Lukk described a somber atmosphere: “People are still shaken. The police closed off the entire area, and there’s a heavy feeling here. It’s hard to believe how quickly a celebration turned into something like this.”

The Swiss authorities’ refusal, at least initially, to confirm the number of dead or seriously injured only intensified the unease. Israeli media indicated that two Jewish individuals were initially listed as missing, though no confirmation has been issued about their status.

Investigators say the cause of the explosion remains under active review. Preliminary findings suggest a fire may have preceded the blast, with one hypothesis focusing on a pyrotechnic device igniting alcohol within the club’s wooden interior — a potentially catastrophic combination in a tightly packed venue.

Police cautioned that no definitive conclusion has been reached. Forensic teams continue to comb through the charred remains of the building, collecting debris samples and reviewing surveillance footage.

The scenario, however, raises troubling questions about safety standards in Alpine nightlife hotspots. As VIN News has pointed out in its coverage, many ski-resort clubs are constructed largely of wood, a material that offers rustic charm but can become lethal when fire breaks out.

For Lukk and his family, the night will forever be etched into memory. Orthodox Jews often choose resorts like Crans-Montana for winter vacations because of their relative accessibility and the presence of kosher accommodations. That a Jewish family was nearly caught in such a calamity has resonated strongly across Israeli and diaspora communities.

The VIN News report emphasized that Lukk’s escape was nothing short of providential. Had his family arrived at the club minutes earlier, or chosen to dine inside rather than nearby, the outcome might have been drastically different.

In Orthodox circles, where gratitude for survival is often expressed through prayer and communal solidarity, Lukk’s testimony has already become a story of near-miraculous deliverance — albeit one shadowed by grief for those less fortunate.

Crans-Montana is no stranger to international attention. The resort has hosted world-class ski competitions and attracted celebrities for decades. But it has rarely, if ever, been associated with mass-casualty incidents.

Local officials now face the delicate task of reassuring tourists while grappling with the human cost of the disaster. As the VIN News report noted, the resort’s economy depends heavily on winter tourism, and images of fire engines outside luxury chalets do little to inspire confidence.

Hotels in the vicinity of the blast reported widespread cancellations in the hours following the incident, and some visitors reportedly cut short their holidays, unnerved by the scale of the destruction.

The unfolding investigation is expected to probe not only the immediate trigger of the fire but also broader issues of compliance with safety regulations. Did the nightclub have sufficient fire-suppression systems? Were pyrotechnics authorized? Was overcrowding a factor?

Such questions loom large in the coverage by VIN News, which has highlighted that similar incidents in Europe in recent years — often involving flammable décor and poorly regulated special effects — have ended in tragedy.

Swiss law enforcement has urged patience, insisting that all conclusions must await forensic confirmation. But for families still waiting for news of missing loved ones, every hour of silence feels like an eternity.

Beyond the specifics of Crans-Montana, the explosion stands as a stark reminder of how quickly joy can curdle into horror. New Year’s Eve is meant to symbolize renewal and hope. Instead, in this Alpine town, it became a tableau of human vulnerability.

For Moshe Lukk, the ordeal is not something that will fade when the snow melts.

“It’s hard to believe how fast everything happened,” he said. “One second you’re thinking about the New Year, and the next you’re running for your life.”

As investigators continue their painstaking work, the resort — and the many communities touched by the disaster — wait for answers. In the meantime, the story of an Israeli singer narrowly escaping a Swiss inferno has become emblematic of a night when the mountains themselves seemed to hold their breath.