I want to believe they weren't there.
When the earth convulsed along Venezuela's northern coast last Wednesday, it did not distinguish between the famous and the forgotten. Lucas Trejo, an Argentine footballer playing three hours away in Caracas, returned to find his family's building reduced to rubble — and spent 74 hours in the company of grief, hope, and finally, unbearable certainty. The recovery of his wife Yanina and their children Aaron and Ainhoa from the wreckage reminds us that catastrophe does not announce itself, and that the distance between an ordinary morning and an altered life can be measured in seconds.
- Twin earthquakes of 7.2 and 7.5 magnitude tore through Venezuela's northern coast while Trejo was away with his team, collapsing the very building where his wife and two young children were living.
- Trejo drove immediately to the disaster zone and posted a desperate plea on Instagram, clinging to the possibility that his family had not been inside when the structure fell.
- His father and brother flew from Argentina to join him, and together with firefighters, soldiers, and volunteers, they moved concrete and steel by hand for 74 hours straight.
- On Sunday, rescue crews pulled three bodies from the rubble — Yanina Maranella, Aaron, and Ainhoa — ending the search and extinguishing the last of the hope that had sustained it.
- South American soccer paused in collective mourning, with teammates, friends, and clubs reaching for words adequate to a loss that language cannot fully hold.
Lucas Trejo was three hours away when the earthquakes struck. The 38-year-old Argentine center back was in Caracas with his club, Sport Maritimo de La Guaira, when two violent tremors — measuring 7.2 and 7.5 — collapsed buildings along Venezuela's northern coast. Among them was the apartment in Playa Grande where his wife Yanina Maranella and their children, Aaron and Ainhoa, had been living.
He drove to the disaster zone immediately. What had been their home was now a heap of concrete and steel. Not knowing whether his family had been inside, he turned to Instagram with the raw desperation of a man refusing to surrender to the worst: he asked followers to pray, to share, to help — to believe with him that they might not have been there.
His father and brother flew from Argentina to stand beside him. Together with emergency crews and volunteers, they worked through the rubble for 74 hours — three days of methodical, agonizing searching. On Sunday, it ended. Rescue workers recovered the bodies of Yanina, Aaron, and Ainhoa from the wreckage.
The grief spread quickly through South American soccer. Close friend and fellow Argentine footballer Edson Tortolero wrote publicly that his heart had broken into a thousand pieces. Sport Maritimo de La Guaira released a formal statement of condolence, the words of an institution reaching toward something beyond its capacity to contain.
Trejo's loss is one thread in a broader catastrophe that displaced and devastated communities across Venezuela's northern coast. Emergency crews continue working. But for Trejo, the search is finished — what remains is a silence where a family used to be.
Lucas Trejo was three hours away when the ground opened up beneath his family. The 38-year-old Argentine center back was in Caracas with his team, Sport Maritimo de La Guaira, when two earthquakes—measuring 7.2 and 7.5 in magnitude—struck Venezuela's northern coast on Wednesday. The tremors were violent enough to reduce apartment buildings to rubble. His family's building in Playa Grande, a coastal neighborhood in La Guaira, was among them.
Trejo learned what had happened and drove immediately to the disaster zone. The apartment where his wife Yanina Maranella and their two children, Aaron and Ainhoa, had been living was now a heap of concrete and steel. He did not know if they had been inside when it fell. In the early hours of the search, he posted to Instagram with the desperation of a man grasping at possibility: "Our building in Playa Grande collapsed. I don't know anything about my family. Please pray for them and share this message in case someone saw them. I want to believe they weren't there."
His father and brother flew from Argentina to join him in the rubble. They worked alongside firefighters, military personnel, and volunteers, moving debris piece by piece, searching for any sign of life. The work was methodical and grim. Seventy-four hours passed this way—three full days of digging, hoping, and the slow erosion of that hope.
On Sunday, rescue crews recovered three bodies from the wreckage: Yanina Maranella, Aaron, and Ainhoa. The search was over. The family was gone.
The news rippled through South American soccer. Edson Tortolero, an Argentine footballer and close friend of Trejo's, posted his grief publicly: "Today my heart breaks into a thousand pieces. There are no words that can ease so much pain. I ask God to give Lucas strength to endure this unimaginable loss." Sport Maritimo de La Guaira released a statement acknowledging the deaths and extending condolences to Trejo and his family. The club's words were formal but sincere—the language of an institution trying to hold space for something that cannot be held.
Trejo's loss is one thread in a larger catastrophe. The twin earthquakes devastated Venezuela's northern coast, displacing families, destroying homes, and claiming lives across the region. Emergency crews continue working through the debris. The recovery effort will take weeks, perhaps longer. But for Trejo, the recovery is already over. What remains is the weight of absence—a wife and two children who will not come home, a man who went to work one morning and returned to a world fundamentally altered.
Citas Notables
Our building in Playa Grande collapsed. I don't know anything about my family. Please pray for them and share this message in case someone saw them. I want to believe they weren't there.— Lucas Trejo, posted on Instagram during the search
Today my heart breaks into a thousand pieces. There are no words that can ease so much pain. I ask God to give Lucas strength to endure this unimaginable loss.— Edson Tortolero, Argentine footballer and friend of Trejo's
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
What was Trejo doing when the earthquakes hit?
He was in Caracas with his soccer team. He wasn't home. That distance—those three hours between him and his family—is part of what makes this so brutal.
Did he know immediately that his building had collapsed?
He learned it had happened, yes. But he didn't know if his family was inside. That uncertainty is what drove him to post on Instagram—he was still holding onto the possibility that they weren't there, that they'd been somewhere else when it fell.
How long did the search take?
Seventy-four hours. Three full days of his father, his brother, and rescue workers moving through rubble. You can imagine what that time felt like—the slow narrowing of hope.
Did anyone else from the soccer world respond?
Yes. His friend Edson Tortolero posted about it, and his club released a statement. There was an immediate recognition that this wasn't just a tragedy—it was a tragedy happening to someone they knew, someone in their community.
Is this the only family that was lost in these earthquakes?
No. The earthquakes devastated the entire northern coast. Trejo's loss is singular and personal, but it's also part of a much larger disaster. Recovery efforts are still ongoing across the region.
What happens to Trejo now?
That's the question no one can answer. He's lost his wife and two children. He's still alive, still breathing, still a person who has to figure out how to exist in a world that has fundamentally changed.