A Message to Our Camp Community in this Moment of Grief and Resolve

My first experience on Friday, July 4th was seeing a Slack notification on my phone from one of our team members. It read:

“Hi Dan, my daughter is a counselor at Camp Mystic this summer and several of the camps down on the Guadalupe River in Texas Hill Country had a flash flood at 3 AM this morning. I don’t know much, but I’m trying to get there as fast as I can. I’m not sure if you get any information, but if you do and can pass it along I would be grateful.”

After a short exchange, I received another message that said simply:

“Dan, it’s bad.”

I immediately got on the phone with her, and the fear in her voice—the fear of a mother who did not know whether her daughter was dead or alive—will forever be emblazoned on my soul.

Thankfully, her daughter is now safe and sound with her family. But devastatingly, that is not true for everyone, including her close friends—also counselors—who went to camp with her for many years, as well as the young girls in their cabins. They were next door.

We’ve just witnessed one of the most harrowing tragedies ever to hit the camp world. The trauma is unfathomable. This hits close to home for all of us. Camp Mystic, Heart O’ the Hills, Camps Rio Vista and Sierra Vista, Mo Ranch Camp, Camp Waldemar, Camp La Junta, Camp Stewart—and numerous other amazing camps and beloved members of the Campminder community—are suffering right now. The rainfall and river surge came nearly without warning, turning familiar places of joy into scenes of heartbreak within minutes.

Right now in the Hill Country:

  • At least 82 lives have been lost, including young campers and counselors from Camp Mystic. Rescue efforts continue for those still missing.
  • Among those lost was Dick Eastland, co-owner of Camp Mystic, who died while trying to save the youngest campers. His bravery is a devastating reminder of the selflessness that lives at the heart of this work.
  • Jane Ragsdale, longtime director and co-owner of Heart O’ the Hills, also lost her life while transporting counselors to safety during the storm. Heart O’ the Hills was in between sessions, but Jane was—as always—looking out for others first.
  • Beyond the lives lost, many other camps along the Guadalupe River have experienced massive destruction, compounding the trauma these communities now face. 

There are no words that make sense of this. No platitudes. Only grief, shock, and solidarity. Our hearts go out to every family, camper, counselor, staff member, and camp leader living through this nightmare.

To those of you who are directly impacted, reading this from within the storm itself, we see you. We are with you. And we are holding you in our hearts with everything we have. And here’s what I hope we can all remember… because this moment, as gut-wrenching as it is, also reminds us of who we are:

  • Camp is a beacon of care, connection, and courage. Even in this darkness, we see the best of what community brings when resources, volunteers, rescue teams, and neighbors rise to help.
  • These camps have been run by wise, deeply experienced leaders for generations. They’ve weathered storms of all kinds. In this moment, it’s not about having the answers. It’s about holding each other up.
  • The mission of camp remains unchanged: safe spaces for growth, even amid tragedy. Every act of care, every moment of presence, every step we take forward is in service of this sacred trust.

What we can do now:

  1. Hold space for grief. For the missing, the lost, for what was built and what was taken.
  2. Stay connected. Reach out, check in, and remind each other that none of us has to carry this alone.
  3. Support each other. Check on your staff, directors, and friends. Every one of us is having some internal experience with this.
  4. Keep going, together. When the time comes, we’ll be there for each other to rebuild.

In 2020, we reminded each other that camp is more than a place; it’s a promise. Camp is a promise to create safe, loving spaces where kids and young adults can become more of themselves. That’s still true. And it’s never been more important. We grieve. We rally. We rebuild.

Camp matters. You matter. We matter. 

With love, sorrow, and steadfast resolve,

Dan