Before the Oklahoma City bombing, the Happy Land Social Club fire was the largest mass murder in American history. Eighty-seven people died in the Bronx night club in 1990. Wednesday marked the 25th anniversary of the fire. NY1's Erin Clarke tells us that although the pain is still raw for many, victims relatives want to make sure the tragedy is never forgotten. 

Catalina Nunez will never forget March 25, 1990.

"I saw a lot of sheets on the floor when I tripped, I opened the body, and it was my brother's face. I fainted," she said.

It was a night she narrowly escaped death.

"I was here, in the party too. I left 15 minutes before it happened," Nunez recalls.

She lost three family members, though.

Nunez's brother and two cousins died along with 84 others when the Happy Land Social Club on Southern Boulevard burned down.

The popular hangout for young Hispanics—many from Central America—was set afire by the jilted ex-boyfriend of a Happy Land employee.

"It's crazy how 87 people had to die over just a little problem that could have just been talked over," said Michael Nunez.

Like Catalina, Michael also lost relatives—ones he never met.

For as far back as he can remember, every year on the fire's anniversary, the 24-year-old has come to this memorial across the street to mark the grim day with his mother.

She carefully decorates, tying bows and balloons, to the wrought iron fence in honor of her brothers, Marco and Lenin Gammoneda.

"This to us is what the 9/11 exhibit is for the people that passed away and the family members. This is our way of coming and remembering them," Michael Nunez said.

Despite family members of victims maintaining the memorial on Wednesday, efforts to make sure this tragedy is never forgotten have been difficult.

Anniversary events organized by the local community board have been hit or miss.

"A lot of family members don't want to be bothered. They don't know or this is something that they don't want to remember," Michael Nunez said.

Past memorials were sparsely attended, although more people turned out for the 25th anniversary Wednesday night, including first responders who were there that day.

"Though 25 years has passed, it's still troubling when I think of it," said EMS officer Roy David. 

Still, top elected officials were noticeably absent.

The mass was followed by a somber march to the memorial site.

One of those who turned out, Gladys Gomez, said 25 years later, the pain never goes away.

"It just hurt that, you know, I don't have my mom no more," Gomez said.