Lt. Governor Dan Patrick took the podium at the State Emergency Operations Center in Austin yesterday to deliver troubling new figures on the girls still missing after this week’s sudden and violent flooding in Central Texas. Of the roughly 750 campers who had gathered at Camp Mystic, a Christian girls-only summer retreat nestled on the banks of the Guadalupe River, 23 young lives remain unaccounted for—a statistic that has sent shockwaves through families, first responders, and the broader community.
Just after noon on Friday, July 4, an unexpected thunderstorm unleashed more than a foot of rain in under three hours, sending the river surging upward to its second-highest level in recorded history. Cabins built mere feet from the water’s edge were inundated in minutes, forcing counselors and dozens of campers into emergency evacuation protocols. While officials managed to escort most of the girls to higher ground, the ferocity of the floodwaters overtook entire stretches of the camp before rescue teams could intervene.
Families of the missing have been living in limbo, gathering at makeshift information centers set up at Ingram Elementary School and local churches. Mothers clutch photographs of their daughters, tears streaming as they recount the last time they heard a voice or received a message. One father, his voice raw with emotion, described the frantic search he and his wife undertook before being ordered back by National Guard personnel; another mother shared how her daughter had insisted on staying behind to help younger campers tie life vests to poles, never imagining the stakes would become so perilous.
Search and rescue operations have ramped up dramatically since Lieutenant Governor Patrick’s announcement. Over 300 first responders—including Texas Parks and Wildlife dive teams, U.S. Coast Guard boat crews, volunteer Swiftwater Rescue specialists, and National Guard helicopters—are meticulously combing both the submerged remnants of Camp Mystic and a two-mile stretch of the Guadalupe downstream. Using high-resolution sonar scanners, drones equipped with thermal imaging, and K-9 units trained to detect human scent above water, they’ve already recovered 19 bodies of victims swept away by the flood. Each discovery is a heart-wrenching confirmation of the flood’s deadly power, but also a grim reminder of how much ground remains to cover.
Local officials acknowledge that the fast-moving current, hidden debris, and unstable riverbanks are presenting unprecedented challenges. “We’re essentially searching in murky, contaminated water for children who may be trapped beneath collapsed structures,” explained Kerr County Sheriff Larry Leitha. “It’s grueling, it’s dangerous, but we will not relent until every possible lead has been followed.”
The National Weather Service has come under scrutiny in recent days as critics question whether stronger or earlier flash-flood warnings might have spared some of Camp Mystic’s campers. Budget cuts over the past two years left key roles unfilled in the San Angelo and San Antonio forecast offices, and observers argue that critical hours were lost as outdated radar systems struggled to detect the storm’s rapid intensification. A spokesperson for the NWS conceded that, while routine warnings were issued, the speed of the rainfall outpaced expectations.
Despite the forecasters’ debate, one fact remains clear: Camp Mystic and the surrounding communities are reeling from a disaster that few saw coming. In response, non-profit organizations and churches have mobilized to supply the search crews and displaced families with everything from bottled water and sandwiches to dry clothing and flood-resistant sleeping bags. Local businesses have donated flat-bottom boats, inflatable rafts, and waterproof flashlights; volunteers have turned school gymnasiums into family reunification centers, displaying photos of the missing and sharing real-time updates from rescue command posts.
At the State Capitol, lawmakers of both parties are calling for a thorough review of weather-warning protocols and flood-mitigation infrastructure along the Guadalupe River. Proposals include modernizing flood gauges, investing in community-based alert systems—such as text notifications tied to county sirens—and strengthening coordination between state forecasters and local emergency managers. Lieutenant Governor Patrick signaled his support: “We owe it to these families—and to every Texan living near our waterways—to learn from this tragedy and prepare better for the storms of tomorrow.”
Meanwhile, parents continue to wait for news, clinging to the hope that some of the missing girls may yet be found alive. Counselors who survived the flood recall hearing faint cries as they led campers out of cabins, and they maintain that a handful of the girls may have sought refuge in nearby woods or upstream brush. “We’re not giving up on any of them,” said one counselor, her voice firm despite exhaustion. “Every child deserves to come home.”
As the sun sets over Central Texas, flood-soaked fields glisten in the last light, and rescue boats drift slowly along residual currents. The search for Camp Mystic’s missing campers presses on, powered by determination, faith, and an unbreakable belief in the resilience of community. For the families, each passing hour is a test of endurance—and for everyone involved, the quest to bring those 23 girls back to safety has become both a solemn duty and a beacon of hope amid uncrossable waters.