Jet Set, an aging disco just a block away from the oceans of Santo Domingo, was the place to appear on Monday nights.
And this Monday was no exception.
From bankers to retired major league baseball players to politicians, the country's bold collection of face names wanted to start heels and parties even on school nights to see Ruby Perez's concert known as “the loudest voice in meringue.”
Hundreds of people paid $32 for tickets and were able to see the famous Dominican celebrities who recently celebrated their 69th birthday.
Live music on Mondays on the Jet Set was like a tradition in the Dominican capital, allowing you to enjoy life and good music, and helped the nightclub to be as successful as locals and tourists.
“The Jetset was a symbol,” said Jose Antonio Rodriguez, singer and former Dominican Minister of Culture. “You need to understand: Dominicans are party people. They like to be with friends – and Jetset was the place for that.”
The Monday night ritual decades ago ended with a catastrophe this week when the roof of a building crashed midway through Perez's performance. While the video shows him singing and dancing, people wonder aloud what's falling from the ceiling. A thunderous boom then brought the show to a disastrous halt.
The tragedy claims the lives of at least 124 people, including Perez, and destroys a country well known for its sandy beaches and fast dancing moves. The mass cemetery that became a disco is now known as “Ground Zero.”
The victims included the owner of his wife and sister, one of the most prestigious banks in the country. The groom also passed away, but he was the son of the country's Minister of Public Works.
Monte Christie governor Nelsy Cruz was one of the first confirmed deaths, and two former major league baseball players Octavio Dotel and Tony Blanco were also killed. Hall of Fame pitcher Pedro Martinez said in a social media post that some of his family were still inside the club's tile ble.
Now Dominicans line up to donate their blood. As hundreds of rescuers in yellow hard hats and fluorescent jackets sift through the tiles of rubs to find survivors and bodies. Teams from Puerto Rico, Mexico and Israel arrived to help.
Authorities have not said how many people there are at the concert, but they have said they are “triangulating” the number of tickets sold in hospitals and morgues. Rescuers found 20 additional bodies in the abandoned in, but were unable to remove them all by late Wednesday afternoon, authorities said.
After more than 150 rescues, no one has been brought back to life since Tuesday afternoon.
Santo Domingo's television and radio producer Carlos Santos calls the disaster the biggest blow in the history of the Dominican Republic's entertainment industry.
“With a jet set, they fill the tradition of music group performances in the capital,” Santos said. “At this point, no club has the history, trajectory or time that Jet has set.”
The Jetset opened elsewhere in the 1970s and moved several years ago to its original cinema, a block away from the coastal Malecon. It can seat up to 700 people. This is the capacity that rose to 1,000 if the table was deleted.
It was known as a high-class hangout for the city's elite business and political class, where top artists performed.
“It was iconic,” recalls Rosa Rabin, a South Florida singer who once performed there. “There were no groups that didn't go there.”
But she will especially miss Perez, who described her as a charismatic entertainer with no ego.
“He was a very important figure in our music and our culture,” Rabin said. “He was part of our culture.”
Perez began his career as a lead vocalist for famous meringue bandleader Wilfrido Vargas, and recently began singing Christian music, Santos said.
In a video seen by Santos, his friend said he looked more cheerful than Monday night.
“He was more lively, more enthusiastic and more delighted,” Santos said. “He was dancing in a way that he normally wouldn't do. His face looked really comfortable and happy.”
He was the only act of performing on a jet set on Monday, owned by a prominent family in Santo Domingo's entertainment industry. Through the representative, the owner refused to answer the question.
“For you, your mother, your father, your siblings, your children and the children of those affected: you can count on us,” owner Antonio Espirat said in a smoothly produced video posted on social media. “Everything we do now, every decision, every step has one purpose: to be with you, in response to your pain.”
People who live near the nightclub say they have been fighting noise complaints from club generators and owners over smoking for years, but say they found it difficult to beat the political influence and connections of their families.
But following the fatal roof collapse, politicians and reporters are interested in their issues, said Isabel Garcia, the neighbor who kept the neighborhood all night, where the music and generators used to empower the club.
“When we were knocking on the door to protest, they said, 'Jetset? I can't handle it,'” Garcia said.
The noise even shook the furniture in their home, she said. The neighbor tried to file a complaint with the authorities, but there were few results.
She and other neighbors said that after the recent renovation, a large air conditioner has been placed on the roof, making the situation even more dangerous.
“The lights reached the bed and the vibrations reached the window,” said Lourdes Artilles, who lived behind the club.
“The only night we had rested was Tuesday,” she added when the club closed.
Authorities said it was too early to determine the cause of the disaster.
“I think Jetset is history,” said former Minister of Culture Rodriguez. “The pain is too much. I don't think I'll be able to recover.”
Hogra Enesia Perez contributed to a report from Santo Domingo, the Dominican Republic
