What was meant to be a summer of laughter, friendship, and faith turned into a national heartbreak on July 4, when sudden, unforgiving floodwaters tore through Camp Mystic—an all-girls Christian summer camp nestled along the Guadalupe River in Hunt, Texas.
The river rose with terrifying speed—over 30 feet above normal—crushing cabins, swallowing trees, and leaving devastation in its wake. By the time the water receded, it had claimed the lives of five young campers, all under the age of 10. Eleven more remain missing.
Eight-year-old Renee Smajstrla, described by her uncle as “living her best life,” had been radiant in a photo shared just hours before the storm. It was her first camp experience. She never made it home.
Nine-year-old Janie Hunt of Dallas was remembered by her mother as “the heart of our family.” Her mother, broken and tearful, shared just three words with reporters: “We are devastated.”
Sarah Marsh, 8, had traveled from Alabama to attend. Her grandmother described her as “a spunky ray of light” who brought joy wherever she went.
Best friends Lila Bonner (9) and Eloise Peck (8) shared everything—secrets, bunk beds, and dreams. They also shared their final moments. “Eloise loved spaghetti, but she loved animals more,” her mother said. “She was loved fiercely for all eight years we had her.”
Beyond the campgrounds, sisters Blair (13) and Brooke Harber (11) were swept away while visiting their grandparents nearby. Their parents survived. Their grandparents remain missing. “They were radiant,” their school priest said, his voice breaking before a silent church congregation.
Now, the names of the 11 still-missing girls are being whispered in candlelit vigils across Texas. Among them: Joyce Badon, Ella Cahill, Reese Manchaca, Aiden Heartfield, Kellyanne Lytal, and Lainey Landry. Their faces are posted on trees, gates, and across social media—symbols of a hope that refuses to die.
Camp director Richard “Dick” Eastland also lost his life while saving others. He reportedly pulled several girls from the surging flood before being overtaken by the current. His heroism is now legend.
What remains of Camp Mystic is almost too painful to bear. Shattered windows. Overturned beds. Tiny shoes caked in mud. Outside the camp gates, grief-stricken families remain, holding up photographs and calling names into the still air, hoping someone will answer.
One parent was seen kneeling in the mud, hands clasped in prayer, rain mingling with tears. It was a scene that captured the soul of a grieving nation.
This wasn’t just a natural disaster. It was a human one. These weren’t just names on a list. They were little girls—full of joy, light, and dreams. Sisters, daughters, best friends.
And now, they are angels.
May we never forget their faces. May their memories guide us toward healing. And may we hold our own children a little tighter tonight.
