Hunt, Texas — In what has become one of the most heart-wrenching tragedies in Texas history, 27 lives — most of them children — were lost when a flash flood swept through Camp Mystic in the early morning hours of July 4. The beloved girls’ summer camp, nestled along the Guadalupe River in the Hill Country, was overtaken by surging floodwaters triggered by remnants of Tropical Storm Barry.
Officials confirmed that victims include campers as young as 8 years old, as well as teenage counselors and adult staff who gave their lives trying to save others. Among the dead is Dick Eastland, the longtime camp director who was found holding a young camper’s hand in what responders described as a “final act of bravery.”
A Night of Horror in the Hill Country
The flood struck swiftly and without mercy. Between midnight and 3 a.m., more than six inches of rain drenched the region. With little warning, the Guadalupe River swelled over 25 feet, engulfing cabins and sweeping away tents, walkways, and lives.
The camp’s remote location and limited cell service meant many emergency alerts went unheard. Witnesses described counselors wading through chest-deep water, placing children on mattresses to float them to higher ground. Some made it. Others never stood a chance.
“It was chaos. Screaming, rushing water, and pitch black,” said one survivor, a 13-year-old camper from Houston, her voice barely audible between sobs. “Chloe [Childress] saved me. I saw her get swept away after pushing me onto a platform.”
Families in Mourning
The grief is unfathomable. Hanna and Rebecca Lawrence, 8-year-old twins from Lubbock, were among the youngest victims. Their older sister Harper, 14, survived the flood and is currently being treated for hypothermia and shock.
Eloise Peck, 10, had begged her parents for months to go to Camp Mystic for the first time. “She was so excited, she packed her bags a week early,” her father said, breaking down. “She was sunshine.”
Other confirmed victims include:
Lila Bonner, 12, a vivacious performer known for her impressions and endless curiosity.
Chloe Childress, 19, a rising UT freshman and second-year counselor hailed as a natural leader and role model.
Dick Eastland, whose legacy as a mentor and steward of the camp spans nearly three decades.
Additional names are being withheld pending notification of families. At least 10 individuals remain unaccounted for, and search efforts continue along the flood-scarred riverbanks.
A Camp Forever Changed
Founded in 1926, Camp Mystic has been a rite of passage for generations of Texas girls. With its rustic cabins, faith-based programming, and tight-knit community, it stood as a sanctuary — until nature turned cruel.
In a tearful statement, the Eastland family and camp leadership wrote:
“We are broken. Mystic was meant to be a place of joy, safety, and sisterhood. We mourn these beautiful lives and will never stop honoring their memories.”
Calls for Accountability and Change
As vigils light up Texas cities — from Lubbock to San Antonio — tough questions are surfacing. Could this have been prevented? Why weren’t evacuations carried out sooner? Were warning systems adequate?
While the camp held valid licenses and emergency procedures, investigators are probing the response timeline, the limitations of cell service in the area, and whether more could have been done to alert staff and protect campers.
Governor Greg Abbott has declared a state of disaster in Kerr County and secured federal assistance. “This is not just a tragedy — it’s a wake-up call,” he said during a press briefing. “We must ensure no family endures this pain again.”
A State in Mourning
In the wake of unimaginable loss, communities across Texas have come together — gathering in churches, schools, and city halls, candles flickering beside photos of the young and hopeful. The heartbreak is raw, but so too is the resolve.
As recovery teams continue their grim search and parents cling to fading hope, one truth remains: Camp Mystic will never be the same. Nor will the families who sent their daughters there, trusting in a summer of growth and laughter — not a final goodbye