The Dominican community in New York City is the largest anywhere in the world outside of the Dominican Republic—we are their home away from home. Dominican New Yorkers contribute to every facet of life across the five boroughs, whether it’s running our small businesses in the Bronx or playing in our sports stadiums in Manhattan and Queens. Dominicans are not just our neighbors and our friends. They are our family.
So, when our family suffers a tragedy, it is our responsibility to be there for our brothers and sisters in their sorrow and in their grief. Two weeks ago, when the roof of the Jet Set nightclub collapsed, at least 231 members of our Dominican family lost their lives, and more than 150 more were injured in the accident. Last week, in a sign of solidarity, I mourned with their families in Santo Domingo not merely as the mayor of New York City, but as a brother who felt their pain.
The night of the roof collapse was a painful moment for so many within our city, and I knew I could not just show my support from a distance. I was honored to meet with the first responders who risked their lives and rushed to the rescue. I visited the site of the Jet Set nightclub and left a wreath as a symbol of my love for the people of the Dominican Republic. And I spoke with the families and community members who were impacted, including the loved ones of a retired NYPD detective who died, because their loss is our loss too.
I also met with leaders of the Dominican Republic—its president, Luis Abinader, and the minister of public works and communications, Eduardo Estrella—because I wanted to offer our support and see how New York City can aid with the country’s recovery efforts. The NYPD already has an intelligence outpost in the Dominican Republic that is helping in any way they can. And I offered my own personal assistance to do everything possible to prevent something like this from happening again. We owe that to those we lost.
As a man of faith in a country of faith, my final stop was to attend mass with the archbishop, Monsignor Francisco Ozoria, at San Antonio de Padua Church. Facing darkness in the aftermath of this tragedy, I prayed that the unity of our spirit can be the light that will turn our pain into purpose. Because together, we will overcome it.
The links between our two communities are never stronger than in the wake of catastrophe. It was true in the past, from the destruction left by Hurricane Fiona to the fatalities of Flight 587, and it is true now. What I saw during my trip—the remarkable vitality of the Dominican people in spite of loss, their love for life and unwavering spirit surfacing above sadness—can also be found here in New York City, a place where almost 1 million Dominicans call home.
Today, every New Yorker carries part of the Dominican Republic in their heart. Both of our people understand tragedy, but we’re also tough and we never give up. Psalm 147 says: “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” God bless those we have lost and God bless the survivors. Our hearts are broken but our hearts are also with you.
