With a light rain falling over Camp Mystic, a Christian summer camp on the banks of the Guadalupe River in Texas, a father sifted through wreckage, searching for his missing 8-year-old daughter.
“My daughter was here,” said Michael, 40, as he stepped inside a damaged stone-walled cabin with shattered windows. There, he found a towel embroidered with her name, a bracelet, and a family photo—fragile remnants of her presence.
Michael, who lives in Austin and asked not to share his last name, received the call every parent dreads on Friday morning: his child was missing. She is among 27 girls still unaccounted for after torrential rain triggered flash flooding that surged through the riverside camp in the early morning hours.
The flood ripped apart parts of Camp Mystic. A wall of the camp’s dining hall was torn clean off by the raging water, which has killed at least 32 people in Kerr County alone. Among the chaos inside: bottles of maple syrup and hot sauce scattered across the floor—remnants of normalcy amid devastation.
Roughly 750 girls were staying at the camp when the flood hit. Most were successfully evacuated, but search crews are still working to locate the missing. Authorities confirmed 18 adults and 14 children have been confirmed dead so far, with four of the missing girls reported dead by their families, according to local media.
A Century Flood
The Guadalupe River rose more than 26 feet in just 45 minutes, leveling trees, overturning vehicles, and sweeping away entire structures. The destruction stretches for miles.
Search and rescue teams—on foot, in boats, helicopters, and drones—continue combing the area for survivors. One girl was found clinging to a tree, according to Texas Governor Greg Abbott.
“She held on until a helicopter was able to lift her from that harrowing situation,” he said Saturday.
The river’s surge also inundated parts of neighboring Kent County, flooding homes, knocking down fences, and overwhelming a fuel station.
Grief and Hope
At reunification centers, anguished families post photos, offer prayers, and cling to hope.
“There’s a saying here: there’s a flood every hundred years,” said Gerardo Martinez, 61, who runs a local restaurant. “We had it. We’ve never seen anything like that—and I hope we never do again.”
Martinez recalled watching entire cars and even houses get swept down the river. In nearby Kerrville, resident David Amorr, 35, said the disaster didn’t feel real.
“We see this kind of stuff on the news. You don’t expect it to happen in your own hometown,” Amorr said. “We have two daughters ourselves. They could have been at one of those camps. So our hearts are with those families.”
Back at Camp Mystic, Michael kept searching the debris, clinging to hope.
“I’m praying for a miracle,” he said quietly. “Absolutely.”
