“Almost Home”: A Community Mourns the Final Loss at Camp Mystic
The final chapter in the tragedy at Camp Mystic has closed with the recovery of the last missing child—bringing a heart-wrenching end to weeks of search efforts, prayers, and hope. Authorities confirmed that the youngest of the 27 girls who vanished during the catastrophic Texas floods was found earlier this week in a wooded area, about 800 meters from her family’s home. The site had been previously searched, but dangerous terrain and lingering flood debris had made access nearly impossible until recently.
Search and rescue teams described the scene with quiet sorrow, saying the child was found “lying peacefully,” with no visible signs of trauma or struggle. Her discovery stirred deep emotions among the responders—many of whom had come to know her family through the long and painful search. For a community that has been holding its breath, hoping against hope, the confirmation of her fate was both a relief and a heartbreak.
She was almost home.
That phrase—spoken quietly by a volunteer during the announcement—echoed through the community like a lament. She was so close to safety, so close to the people who loved her. And yet, like too many others, the storm claimed her before she could return.
The floods that swept through the region were sudden, fierce, and merciless. Triggered by days of relentless rain, the river near Camp Mystic rose beyond all forecasts, overwhelming barriers and cutting off escape routes. Despite emergency protocols, the floodwaters engulfed large areas of the camp faster than staff or responders could react. Survivors described a scene of confusion, bravery, and heartbreak as counselors and campers tried desperately to reach higher ground.
In total, at least 70 people lost their lives in the flooding—21 of them children from Camp Mystic. Among the victims were names now etched into the heart of the community: Sarah Marsh, 12; best friends Eloise Peck, 8, and Lila Bonner, 9; Renee Smajstrla, 8; Janie Hunt, 9; and sisters Blair and Brooke Harber, ages 13 and 11. Each was remembered not just as a victim, but as a vibrant soul—joyful, kind, and deeply loved.
The families of the lost girls have asked for privacy as they mourn, but many have shared personal tributes that paint a picture of who these young girls were. Renee loved horses and never went anywhere without her sketchbook. Blair was known for her fierce leadership, while her younger sister Brooke was shy but unfailingly kind. Eloise and Lila, inseparable in life, were remembered as two halves of the same laughter-filled heart.
As word spread of the final recovery, hundreds gathered near the trail where the youngest victim was found. Friends, neighbors, classmates, and even strangers arrived with flowers, candles, stuffed animals, and handwritten notes. A hush fell over the crowd as the sun set—a quiet moment of shared grief, unity, and remembrance.
One message left near the trail read simply, “You were almost home. We will carry you the rest of the way.”
In the days ahead, authorities will continue investigating how such a tragedy could have unfolded. Environmental experts and detectives are reviewing flood models, evacuation procedures, and the structural integrity of nearby dams and levees. Questions are being asked—not to place blame, but to understand. To make sure that what happened at Camp Mystic never happens again.
But for now, the focus remains on healing. The Camp Mystic community—parents, counselors, first responders, and fellow campers—will face a long journey of grief and rebuilding. Local schools and churches are providing counseling and support services. Community groups have organized vigils, fundraisers, and memory walls to honor the victims. In this time of sorrow, small acts of solidarity are helping people feel a little less alone.
The family of the final girl issued a brief, poignant statement following the news: “We are grateful for everyone who searched, prayed, and stood with us. Our daughter brought joy to every room she entered. She was gentle, brave, and full of life. We will carry her with us, always.”
In tragedies like this, there are no answers that can ease the pain. But there is something sacred in remembering. Something powerful in bearing witness. And something necessary in refusing to let these girls be forgotten.
They were campers. They were friends. They were daughters and sisters. And they were almost home.
