Camp Mystic’s Owner Spent Decades Warning of Floods — Until the River Took His Life

For decades, Dick Eastland warned of the hidden dangers beneath the surface of the beautiful Guadalupe River. He had seen firsthand how quickly the serene Texas waterway could turn deadly while running his family’s youth camp along its banks.

He watched floods damage Camp Mystic time and again. He once saw his pregnant wife airlifted to safety when rising waters cut off the property from the outside world. He worked tirelessly to improve local safety measures, including a flood warning system meant to prevent future tragedies.

“The river is beautiful,” Eastland told the Austin American-Statesman in 1990. “But you have to respect it.”

Last week, that same river rose with terrifying speed. Floodwaters swept through Camp Mystic, killing at least 27 people, including Eastland himself. The seventy-year-old camp director died trying to rescue his young campers. The flood also destroyed cabins, vehicles, and decades of memories, leaving the Texas Hill Country reeling from one of its worst natural disasters in history.

The tragedy has prompted questions about whether the loss could have been prevented, and whether local authorities and camp officials missed chances to better protect the community from the river’s recurring wrath.

Eastland was no stranger to tragedy on the Guadalupe. In 1987, ten children were killed when flash floods swept through a nearby camp during a hurried evacuation. That disaster galvanized him. Serving on the board of the Upper Guadalupe River Authority, Eastland led efforts to create a new early warning system that could save lives when the water rose.

The proposed network of gauges would send automatic alerts if river levels climbed beyond a set limit. It was an ambitious idea for its time and was eventually implemented along the Guadalupe and its tributaries.

At first, the system worked well. But within a decade, problems began to surface. Maintenance fell behind, and the company responsible for upkeep shut down unexpectedly. By 1999, the river authority decided to deactivate the network entirely, describing it as unreliable and prone to false readings.

Even as floods continued to strike the region, attempts to rebuild a modern version of the system repeatedly failed. Funding applications were denied by the state in 2016 and 2017. A later grant opportunity was abandoned when officials realized it would cover only a small fraction of the cost.

Some residents also pushed back, arguing that new sirens and infrastructure would disrupt the quiet riverside communities. Without political will or sufficient funding, the project stalled for good.

A Camp in the Flood Zone

Camp Mystic, founded nearly a century ago, sits along one of the Guadalupe’s most picturesque bends in Kerr County. But beauty has always come with danger.

As far back as 1932, floodwaters swept away several cabins, forcing campers to evacuate by canoe. In 1978, another deluge hit, destroying cars and damaging much of the camp. In 1985, Eastland’s wife, Tweety, who was pregnant at the time, had to be rescued by helicopter after floodwaters surrounded the camp.

Despite that history, parts of Camp Mystic were still built in high-risk areas. Federal maps show that several of the oldest cabins were located inside the Guadalupe’s regulatory floodway, meaning they were directly in the path of potential surges. Even as new buildings were added to safer ground in later years, the most vulnerable structures remained standing.

“Camp officials might not have known how high the risk was when those cabins were first built, before the county even had flood maps,” said Anna Serra-Llobet, a flood risk researcher at the University of California, Berkeley. “But during more recent construction, they had a window of opportunity to realize the danger and move those sleeping areas to higher ground.”

She added that the camp could have repurposed the flood-prone buildings for recreation instead of housing campers overnight.

“They could have made safer choices once the data was clear,” she said.

Eastland’s commitment to improving river safety never wavered. After a hiatus from the Upper Guadalupe River Authority board, he was reappointed in 2022 by Texas Governor Greg Abbott. He helped lead discussions about developing a new centralized data system that could track rainfall, river depth, and flood risk in real time.

In April, the board voted to hire a firm to build the new dashboard, which was expected to integrate multiple monitoring tools to help local emergency services respond faster. The plan was to begin work in July.

That same month, the flood struck.

The river authority confirmed that the project had been postponed indefinitely as officials shifted focus to rescue efforts, recovery, and damage assessment. The irony was not lost on Eastland’s colleagues, who said the system he had long envisioned might have helped save lives.

To many in Kerr County, Dick Eastland was more than just a camp director. He was a mentor, a friend, and a leader whose family had shaped Camp Mystic into a cherished refuge for generations of girls.

“Although I am devastated, I can’t say I’m surprised that you sacrificed your life with the hopes of someone else’s being saved,” his grandson, George Eastland, wrote in a moving Instagram post. “Although he no longer walks this earth, his impact will never fade in the lives he touched.”

Former campers shared similar memories. April Ancira, who attended Camp Mystic from age eight to fourteen, recalled Eastland’s warmth and patience. “My memories of him wrapping his arms around so many campers and being so excited to see them excel is incredible,” she said.

Austin Dickson, who served alongside Eastland on the river authority board, described him as “a pillar in our county and our community.”

“So many people say, ‘Mystic is my heaven,’ or ‘Mystic is a dreamland,’ and that’s true,” Dickson said. “That’s Dick and Tweety’s life’s work to make that true.”

Experts and residents alike say the tragedy at Camp Mystic should serve as a wake-up call about flood safety in the Hill Country.

“When we lose someone like Dick Eastland, it reminds us of how fragile this balance is,” said Serra-Llobet. “We cannot keep building and living in these floodways and expect a different outcome.”

Kerr County officials say they are now reassessing flood preparedness and considering new funding avenues for a countywide warning system. Some local leaders are also discussing stricter zoning laws to prevent building in high-risk flood zones.

For those who knew Eastland, those efforts would be a fitting legacy.

“If he wasn’t going to die of natural causes, this was the only other way,” his grandson wrote. “Saving the girls he so loved and cared for.”

The river that had defined his life and work finally claimed him. But the lessons he spent a lifetime trying to teach may yet save others , if his warnings are finally heard.