For the Girls of Camp Mystic
The Girls of Camp Mystic, from their archives, circa 1995
It's heartbreaking. A ferocious rain storm unleashes flooding in a small town in Central Texas. The rushing waters destroys the homes. Families are separated in the tumult. People are swept away. Drowned. Girls at a summer camp disappear. Over one hundred and twenty souls perish.
It's unfathomable.
Imagine you are a twelve-year-old girl at summer camp. You're having fun. You go horseback riding, learn archery. You make costumes and put on funny skits. You make friends. Lots of friends. Your life is changed forever and you vow to remain friends forever--to come back next summer and the summer after that. You'll be friends for life. You will always remember your time at summer camp.
It begins to rain. And since this is a Christian camp, you're probably thinking about Noah's Arc. Perhaps someone in your cabin makes a joke about lining up the animals two by two. When the thunder crashes in the middle of the night, you and your friends scream--but not screams of terror. Not yet. Rather, screams of excitement. Oh, the drama of it! A summer storm at camp.
At home, your parents will tell you how worried they are about you and you’ll shrug it off. Worried? Don't be silly. We're practically grown up. We're strong. We know how to swim! And we have canoes! We’re survivors!
The girls will not sit around the campfire, toasting marshmallows and making s'mores, telling stories about how they survived the Big Flood of 2025, because these girls--they don't get to grow up.
It’s hard to wrap our minds around the flood. It doesn’t sit well in our hearts. A lot of people will want to offer up solutions. Blame. They will rush to fix this thing—this thing that cannot be fixed.
Creative Friends—you have a unique responsibility. It’s up to you to write the stories, paint the images, dance the dances of the flood, sing the songs that will sit in history, side by side with Wasn’t it a Mighty Storm. You have the power to take the messy horror of this disaster and transform it into something that doesn’t just bring us answers, but brings us solace.
This is the gift that only you can offer.
Love,
Jamie
A wonderful post, Jamie. You put yourself into those girls' heads and made me understand exactly what it must have been like. (Being British, the summer camp ethos doesn't exist, because we don't have them...)