Latter-day Saint Family Trapped in Peru Mall Collapse

Editor’s Note: On Friday, February 21, 2025, the roof of the Real Plaza shopping center in Trujillo, Peru, unexpectedly collapsed, killing eight people, including three children, and injuring 82, 11 of them minors in critical condition. The collapse primarily affected the food court, where many families were enjoying a quiet afternoon. This is the story of a Latter-day Saint family who, against all odds, managed to survive.

“I saw the roof fall on my family!” These were the words of a desperate father as he relived the most terrifying moment of his life. What was supposed to be an afternoon of joy and games almost turned into an unimaginable tragedy.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. I stepped away from my wife and three little ones for a moment to pick up the food. I left them sitting right in the middle of the Real Plaza Trujillo food court. As soon as I got to the stand, I heard a deafening roar, like a series of explosions. Everything shook as if it were an earthquake. As I turned to see my family, the roof collapsed on more than 200 people, including my children. 

The place was plunged into darkness. The water from the fire fighting systems fell like a storm, creating a scene of total chaos. I only managed to shout:

“It’s not possible! My children, no! My family, no!”

With my heart broken and a fear I cannot describe, I tried to move through the rubble to reach the center of the courtyard, where I had last seen them.

It was almost impossible to move. Twisted iron bars trapped many people. I saw a woman with her back crushed and her legs broken. Two young Venezuelans came to help her while I continued to search for my family. Desperation overwhelmed me. I screamed for help, but many were afraid of being trapped too.

In my distress, I fell to my knees and cried out to God with all my heart. I asked that, if it was His will, He would give me the strength to endure anything. It was 15 minutes—an eternity—until I received a text from my wife. She said she was trapped under a table with two of our children. The dome-shaped structure had fallen onto the table first, creating a space that protected them.

Despite my relief,  my heart broke when I learned that our six-year-old son was missing. At the moment of the crash, he had slipped from my wife’s hand and ran in my direction, becoming trapped under the rubble. I screamed his name over and over again, hoping to hear his voice.

A young deliveryman came up to me and told me that he had seen a boy crawling towards the exit to the toilets. I remembered that my son always asked what that door was for. Despite his broken foot, he had managed to get there. Upon hearing his name, someone replied, “There is a boy here called Fabrizio.” It was him. He was covered in dust and his clothes had blood on them, although, thank God, it wasn’t his.

My wife and two other children also managed to get out after crawling through the rubble for another 15 minutes. Although physically injured—with broken feet and cuts on their heads—the most painful thing has been the emotional trauma. Since that night, my children wake up every 30 minutes calling for me or their mother.

The little ones are recovering at home from this terrible moment.

I will never forget the fear I felt at the thought of losing them. That experience changed me forever. I will never be away from them again.

The negligence behind this collapse has left a deep wound in our family and in many others. What started as a simple promise to take my children to play and eat their favorite food ended in an unimaginable nightmare. We have lost our belongings, but what hurts me the most is knowing that there were families who were not as lucky as us.

As an architect, I understand the weight of the falling steel beams. I know that the disaster could have been even more catastrophic. I grieve for the loss of life and am deeply moved by the knowledge that God allowed us to stay together.

Every time I kiss my children before breakfast, I am grateful to have them with me. But the pain and uncertainty of that day will stay with me forever.