In the rolling green landscape of Hunt, Texas, nestled along the twisting Guadalupe River, Jane Ragsdale was more than just a name—she was a tradition. A fixture in the world of youth development and outdoor education, she embodied the spirit of Heart O’ the Hills Camp, a girls’ summer camp she helped shape for generations. As devastating floodwaters swept through the Texas Hill Country on Friday, claiming lives and displacing dozens, Ragsdale’s death emerged not only as a deeply personal loss to her community but also as a symbol of a broader tragedy that continues to unfold.

According to authorities, Jane Ragsdale was among the 13 individuals confirmed dead as of Friday evening following flash flooding that overwhelmed the Kerrville region and its neighboring communities. At least 20 more people remain unaccounted for. Search and rescue operations are still underway, with local, state, and federal agencies working side by side to locate missing residents and assess damage. But for those who knew Ragsdale—who grew up under her guidance, worked beside her, or were shaped by her quiet strength—her passing signals a wound far deeper than the waterline left behind.

Jane Ragsdale’s journey at Heart O’ the Hills Camp, commonly referred to as “HOH,” began in the 1970s—not in an office, not behind a desk, but on the grounds as a young camper and later as a counselor. Even then, she displayed the traits that would come to define her leadership style: observant, unwavering, thoughtful, and devoted to the girls under her care. Her steady ascent in the camp world reflected not ambition for title, but a deepening sense of service to a cause greater than herself.

In 1976, Jane became a co-owner of the camp—an important milestone in a time when female ownership in the camping industry was far from common. It was a moment that marked not just an administrative shift, but a powerful affirmation of her vision for what youth camps could and should be: inclusive, character-building, and rooted in legacy.

Twelve years later, in 1988, she assumed the title that would follow her for the rest of her life: Camp Director. For most, it was a job. For Jane, it was a sacred trust. For the next three and a half decades, she would be the heartbeat of Heart O’ the Hills, ensuring that every girl who walked through the gates found not just a place to play, but a place to grow.

Under her direction, the camp flourished—not through flashy expansion or modernization, but through intentional tradition, careful programming, and an unrelenting belief in the value of childhood. Her insistence on ritual, respect, and mentorship made HOH not only a summer destination but an institution of transformation. As campers returned year after year, then came back as counselors, and later as parents of new campers, Ragsdale’s impact rippled far beyond any single season.

Colleagues and friends often referred to her simply as the “heart and soul” of the camp. That phrase may seem poetic, but in Jane’s case, it was literal. She lived on the property, worked long after hours, and oversaw every corner of the experience, from curriculum to cabin design to kitchen operations. No matter how administrative her role became, she remained deeply present—walking the grounds, checking in with staff, knowing girls by name, and sending handwritten notes to families when praise or concern called for a personal touch.

Beyond Hunt, Texas, Jane’s reputation grew into something akin to legendary. In 2022, she received the Pioneer Trailblazer Award from the Pioneer Alumni Association, recognizing her not just as a camp professional, but as a trailblazer in youth development across the state and nation. She had also been honored with the Speedy Altman Award, the highest lifetime achievement honor given by the Camp Owners and Directors Association (CODA). It was a rare double recognition that affirmed both her pioneering legacy and the steadfastness with which she upheld the highest standards in the camping world.

Still, accolades never seemed to define her. When asked about the honors, she would often shrug them off and turn the conversation back to the campers. That was Jane—humble in leadership, ferocious in purpose. She understood that success in her role wasn’t measured in awards, but in the quiet breakthroughs of homesick girls learning independence, in the lifelong friendships formed over campfires, and in the tears shed on closing day when campers returned to their regular lives—stronger, more confident, and more grounded.

Her death, then, feels unspeakably profound. And yet, tragically appropriate that her final moments would be tied to the place she gave her life to. The exact details of her passing have not been released publicly, as officials are working to respect the privacy of next of kin and coordinate rescue operations. But what is known is that Jane Ragsdale was caught in the catastrophic flood event that swept through Kerrville, Hunt, and surrounding parts of the Texas Hill Country after a powerful and fast-moving storm system dumped inches of rain in mere hours, sending the Guadalupe River surging over its banks with shocking speed.

What began as heavy rainfall quickly turned into a historic flash flood, overwhelming roadways, bridges, and entire campgrounds. Emergency personnel were dispatched across multiple counties, with reports of rising water levels exceeding 25 feet in under 90 minutes. By mid-afternoon Friday, the National Weather Service had labeled the situation “life-threatening”, and officials began issuing mandatory evacuation orders.

For those in the camping world, the storm was more than weather—it was an existential threat. Camps like Heart O’ the Hills and nearby Camp Mystic, also affected by the storm, house hundreds of children every summer, each requiring safety, structure, and a plan during emergencies. Those plans were tested to their limit on Friday as riverbanks collapsed and access roads vanished beneath water.

It was in this chaos that Jane, by all accounts, was likely doing what she always did: protecting others first. Friends suspect she was overseeing evacuation efforts, guiding campers, or possibly checking cabins when she was caught in the floodwaters. She may have had the opportunity to save herself, but those who knew her best believe that choice would never have crossed her mind. For Jane Ragsdale, the job of protector came before everything else—even her own life.

As the search for missing individuals continues, her confirmed death has begun to reverberate across not just Texas, but the national network of camp directors, counselors, and alumni she impacted. Former campers have taken to social media with memories—funny stories about pranks and paddle races, serious recollections of confidence-building talks, quiet gratitude for letters Jane sent to parents praising a child’s resilience or leadership.

One post read, “She taught me to trust my voice when I didn’t even know I had one. She’s why I became a teacher.” Another: “Jane was the first adult who saw who I could be, not just who I was. The world feels dimmer without her.”

Back in Hunt, the community is already grieving. Local churches have begun organizing vigils. The Heart O’ the Hills staff—stunned but steady—have reportedly begun coordinating with grief counselors, alumni, and summer families to begin the impossible task of moving forward while preserving what Jane built.

“This camp isn’t just a place,” one former counselor said. “It’s a philosophy. It’s Jane’s philosophy: That girls are powerful, that leadership matters, and that traditions—when upheld with integrity—can shape who we become.”

The larger flood disaster continues to unfold. Authorities confirmed 13 fatalities, with at least 20 individuals still unaccounted for, and ongoing rescue operations still active across the region. Search dogs, helicopters, and boat teams have been deployed across riverbanks and nearby infrastructure. Officials have asked residents to stay off the roads and keep emergency lines clear.

President Donald Trump has reportedly offered federal disaster support, and FEMA, alongside the U.S. Coast Guard, has begun coordinating resources with state and local responders. The situation remains fluid, with weather forecasts warning of additional rain throughout the weekend. Evacuation centers have been established in several neighboring counties, and relief organizations are bracing for what could become one of the most destructive flash flood events in recent Texas memory.

Yet amid this destruction, the death of Jane Ragsdale is being held up not only as a devastating loss—but as a reason to keep going. As a friend and camp colleague said on Friday night, “If Jane were here, she’d tell us to cry, and then to get to work—because there’s a camp to run, and girls who need us.”

In that spirit, Heart O’ the Hills will likely find a way forward. Because the true measure of a leader isn’t in how long they held their post, but in whether their legacy can endure without them. And Jane’s legacy—etched in decades of campers, counselors, and campfires—will remain.

She once wrote, “When you pour yourself into something you believe in, you never really leave it behind. You become part of it. You become its heartbeat.”

Now, that heartbeat echoes in every girl who ever left Heart O’ the Hills a little braver than she arrived.