A Mural in the Dominican Republic Honors the Fallen Victims of the Jet Set Tragedy

Painted in the colors of the Dominican flag, the message spans nearly 40 meters across a concrete wall in the town of Bajos de Haina. “In memory of our people – Haina.” A phrase that speaks plainly yet holds the weight of a loss that still lingers.

The mural honors twenty-five Haina residents who never returned from Santo Domingo that night. On April 8, during a crowded event at the club Jet Set, the roof collapsed without warning. Two hundred thirty-two people died. More than two hundred were injured. Among the victims was Rubby Pérez, a beloved singer and native of the country, who had been performing when the collapse occurred.

Now, for the town of Haina, the mural is a gran gesture. A space reclaimed for remembering.

A Personal Grief Turned Collective

The idea began with a single person. Jorge Alberto Candelario, known to most as Pipón, stood before the wall and reached for what he knew best. “Each one gives from the little or the much that they have,” he said as reported by El Nuevo Dia. “And the only way I can interpret all of this is by painting, which is what I love.”

He has no formal training. What he has is a long history of painting public spaces in his community. This time, the work arrived not as a commission but as an instinct. He brought his brushes to a place already filled with sorrow and began to translate it into color.

What started as a solitary act quickly grew into something shared. A local laboratory offered its perimeter wall for the piece. Neighbors watched and returned each day. One young woman, riding past on a small motorbike, stopped to hand the artist a glass of juice. It was a simple gesture, but in it was everything — acknowledgment, support, and a quiet form of solidarity.

Honoring the Victims of the Jet Set Tragedy

The mural now stands in the El Distrito sector, along Sánchez Ramírez Street between Américo Lugo and José Martí, a short walk from the town’s municipal park. It does not follow a formal narrative. Instead, it mirrors the spirit of the “haineros,” known for their music, color, and celebration — qualities frozen for a moment by the collapse in Santo Domingo.

Anyone who sees the mural sees that the work draws not only from grief but from the identity of a town that insists on being remembered for more than tragedy.

Candelario explained that part of his intention was to reimagine the space itself — to make it a place where people could gather again. A mural, yes, but also a meeting point. A public acknowledgment of absence and belonging.

Haina’s tradition of street art is long and personal. Murals have long told the stories of local athletes, artists, and historical figures. This one now joins them, not because it was planned, but because it could not be ignored.

The wall remains, streaked with blue, white, and red. A silent ledger of names. A shared effort to hold memory in place, even as the world moves past the headlines.