A century-old Christian summer camp in Texas, where 25 young girls and two teenage counsellors perished in a catastrophic flash flood, is preparing to partially reopen its doors next year, a decision that has deeply divided grieving families.
A Community Torn Between Healing and Heartbreak
For the first time since the disaster on the July Fourth holiday weekend in 2025, Camp Mystic plans to begin enrolling campers in January 2026, with arrivals scheduled for May. The devastating floodwaters on the Guadalupe River swept away two cabins, claiming 27 lives in total. Two victims, including an eight-year-old camper, have still not been found.
Patrick Hotze, whose three daughters survived the ordeal, attended funerals for the victims and understands the outrage surrounding the camp's decision. Yet, he intends to send his girls back. "My heart is broken for them," Hotze said of the parents who lost children, some of whom were close friends. "I think it’s different for each kid and each family."
While some families view returning as a crucial step in healing, others are appalled. Parents of six girls who died issued a public statement calling the reopening announcement "yet another insensitive" act from a camp they say has refused to take responsibility.
Promises of Enhanced Safety Amid Scrutiny
The camp, located in the perilous region known as "Flash Flood Alley," is moving forward with a plan that will see campers bunk on higher ground than the inundated cabins. The camp's owner, Dick Eastland, died in the flood, and his family has vowed to implement new safety measures. These include two-way radios in every cabin and new flood warning river monitors.
Texas legislators are set to hold investigative hearings into the tragedy in 2026 but have shown little desire to assign blame. Local leaders in Kerr County, where the flood killed at least 117 people, remain in their posts. They are working on a slow recovery while trying to expedite a new flood warning system before the camp reopens.
An attorney for Camp Mystic, Mikal Watts, said officials contacted former campers who witnessed previous floods. They reportedly stated this year's event was unlike any other in its power and height.
Personal Stories of Trauma and Resilience
For some, the camp's role in their children's spiritual and personal development eases the difficult choice. Liberty Lindley’s nine-year-old daughter, Evie, was trapped in a cabin called Wiggle Inn during the flood. Many of the girls Evie knew were swept away. After floating on mattresses in the dark before a helicopter rescue, Evie did not hesitate to say she wanted to return.
"She thought she was going to be seeing her sister that night in heaven," Lindley recalled of a conversation just hours after the event. "And she still looked at me with a smile and said, 'Mom, I really hope next year at camp we do Mary Poppins again.'"
However, uncertainty lingers for other parents. John Ball, an attorney whose daughter was at the camp, has serious reservations after experiencing poor communication from officials. He didn't learn his daughter was safe until over 12 hours after the flooding, when she borrowed a phone to call. "That was the hardest part, not knowing," Ball said, adding his family will likely take the coming year off to assess the implemented changes.
As enrollment approaches, Camp Mystic's future hangs in a delicate balance between honouring a beloved tradition and confronting a profound tragedy that continues to scar a community.
