As catastrophe engulfed the Guadalupe River valley in the early hours of Friday, July 4, 2025, the names Lila Bonner, Eloise Peck, Hadley Hanna, Kellyanne Lytal, Lainey Landry, Janie Hunt, Renee Smajstrla, Cile Steward, Virginia Hollis, Margaret Sheedy, Molly DeWitt, Anna Margaret Bellows, Blakely McCrory, Mary Grace Baker, Linnie McCown, Greta Toranzo, Sarah Marsh, Wynne Naylor, Katherine Ferruzzo, Bella Kate, and John and Julia Burgess and their two sons quickly emerged from silence into the national spotlight—each representing an individual, a life, a story, now caught in the brutal torrent of nature’s fury. These names are just some of the many feared lost or still unaccounted for in the wake of a sudden, violent flash flood that struck Camp Mystic, a nearly century-old all-girls Christian summer camp in Hunt, Texas, leaving at least 13 confirmed dead and triggering a historic emergency response across Kerr County and the broader Texas Hill Country.
The magnitude of the event defies easy comprehension: the Guadalupe River, typically a tranquil feature of the camp’s summer landscape, rose more than 22 feet in just 30 minutes, turning the heart of a beloved retreat into a chaotic disaster zone. The floodwaters ripped through cabins, dining halls, and recreational facilities, scattering belongings, destroying infrastructure, and most devastatingly, sweeping away campers, counselors, and nearby families, some of whom were in their beds when the water surged.
According to Lt. Governor Dan Patrick, who addressed the media Friday afternoon, the state is treating the situation as a “mass casualty event”, with approximately 23 children still missing. Speaking gravely, Patrick emphasized that federal resources had been mobilized, including FEMA, the U.S. Coast Guard, and personnel from Homeland Security, coordinated directly by Secretary Kristi Noem. Texas Senator Ted Cruz issued a call for prayer and support via social media, underlining the gravity of the situation as rescue teams scrambled to reach stranded victims. In many cases, these individuals were located clinging to treetops, trapped in submerged vehicles, or stranded on rapidly eroding banks—their fates still uncertain as the hours dragged on.
Among the missing are not only children, such as Blakely McCrory, Greta Toranzo, and Lila Bonner, but also camp counselors, like Katherine Ferruzzo and Bella Kate, who had dedicated their summer to mentoring and protecting the very youth now feared lost. Entire families have also disappeared in the current—John and Julia Burgess and their two sons are among them—underscoring the reach of this disaster, which has extended beyond Camp Mystic’s grounds into surrounding residential areas.
Camp Mystic, founded in 1926 and scheduled to celebrate its 100th anniversary in 2026, has long been considered a cherished institution in the region—an emblem of faith, tradition, and community. Each summer, it welcomes around 750 girls aged 7 to 17, offering Bible study, archery, swimming, and equestrian programs. But this year, the setting of cherished childhood memories became the epicenter of Texas’ deadliest flood disaster in over a decade. For many parents, the comfort of sending their daughters to a Christian summer camp nestled among the limestone cliffs of the Hill Country has now turned into a nightmare of waiting, wondering, and mourning.
The speed and intensity of the flooding left even seasoned responders stunned. According to Freeman Martin, Director of the Texas Department of Public Safety, search and rescue teams numbering between 400 and 500 personnel, supported by 18 helicopters, have been deployed in a race against time. As the Guadalupe River’s current carried debris and, tragically, bodies downstream, roads and communication lines collapsed under the weight of the flood. Power, water, and internet access across large sections of the region remain severed, further complicating coordination efforts.
Initial rescue operations have been harrowing. First responders described using night vision equipment, thermal imaging drones, and zip lines across swollen ravines just to access affected areas. In some places, victims had tied themselves to high branches or used floating logs to stay above the torrent. Boats were launched in tandem with aerial reconnaissance, but limited visibility, changing river conditions, and submerged hazards made even the most basic movements perilous. Compounding the danger, key access roads have been completely washed away, isolating campgrounds and homes alike.
Although some of the missing individuals have been located and rescued, the situation remains fluid and dire. The camp’s administration sent an urgent message to families clarifying that not all campers are accounted for, contrary to earlier circulating reports. “The reports that all campers are accounted for are false,” said a family member of one of the missing girls. “The search is very much ongoing. Please continue to pray.”
Kerr County Judge Rob Kelly, who spoke in a separate briefing, echoed the uncertainty: “We know there are still people missing. We’ve identified some of their locations, but not all. The exact number is still being confirmed.” This ambiguity has added to the anguish of families, some of whom have traveled from across Texas and the U.S. to wait near makeshift shelters and staging areas, hoping for updates that, for many, have yet to come.
Experts point to the meteorological conditions that led to the flooding as extraordinarily rare and dangerous. Overnight, the region was hit by a slow-moving storm cell that dumped torrential rain upstream. The Guadalupe River, already swollen from recent rainfall, became the perfect conduit for flash flooding when that rainfall converged into a massive wall of water. With over 22 feet of river rise in just 30 minutes, the flood turned deadly faster than most emergency warning systems could alert residents. The terrain of the Hill Country—rocky, steep, and channel-like—only accelerated the downstream flow, funneling the water directly through Camp Mystic’s campus and adjacent residential zones.
As authorities continue their efforts, the emotional toll is mounting. For every name on the missing list—Hadley Hanna, Eloise Peck, Lainey Landry, and more—there is a mother refreshing her phone, a father pacing at a volunteer fire station, a sibling lighting a candle, a community waiting breathlessly. Churches across Kerrville, Hunt, and neighboring towns have opened their doors for round-the-clock vigils, as residents gather to pray, comfort one another, and offer shelter to the displaced.
The implications of this flood will likely extend far beyond this immediate emergency. Policy discussions on floodplain management, camp emergency planning, and infrastructure resilience are certain to follow. Questions are already being raised about how emergency warnings were issued, whether Camp Mystic had sufficient evacuation protocols, and how prepared rural communities are for sudden climate events of this magnitude. For a camp preparing to celebrate a centennial, the flood has introduced an unexpected and painful chapter into its storied history.
In the meantime, those on the ground remain focused on the mission at hand. Lt. Gov. Patrick made clear that the search will not stop until every missing person is either rescued or found. “We are committed. This is not just a search, it is a mission of compassion, resolve, and honor for every life in peril,” he said.
As the sun sets over the Texas Hill Country each evening, the light reflects not only on the turbid waters of the Guadalupe, but on the invisible threads of hope and heartbreak that now bind together hundreds of families, responders, and volunteers. The faces of those still missing—Virginia Hollis, Molly DeWitt, Mary Grace Baker, Sarah Marsh, Anna Margaret Bellows, Wynne Naylor, and others—are now more than names; they are symbols of what remains at stake in every moment of this monumental rescue effort.
Anyone in the region with information, footage, or possible sightings of missing individuals is strongly urged to contact local authorities immediately. Time, officials say, is the most critical factor in finding survivors.
And so the search continues. In the stillness that follows the roar of a flood, only the names remain to be spoken, remembered, and, if there is justice, reunited with the families who now hold their breath against the silence.