Floods Are Inevitable. Catastrophe Is Not.
But even with a flawless response, the storm that roared through that night would most likely have claimed many lives. The rest of us might now do well to look past the astonishment, sympathy or blame, and consider how to avoid or minimize similar hazards in the future. What happened in Central Texas is only the latest in a long series of horrific floods, and they're getting worse. In Ellicott City, Md., a flood level expected only once in 1,000 years occurred twice in a three-year span, in 2016 and 2018. In 2022, flash floods in Kentucky displaced thousands of people who had no flood insurance. In February of this year, devastating floods occurred in Kentucky, West Virginia and Tennessee. We should no longer be surprised by the inevitable.
We are living in a new age of flooding. We can no longer deny the increasing danger posed by these floods. Nor can we afford to continue believing we have the solutions to stop or contain the rise of water. The best option to save American lives is reducing our vulnerability and exposure to these floods. That means preventing unnecessary new development on floodplains, and amping up efforts to help people move their homes from high-risk areas to safe territory.
This starts with the protection of floodplains, the natural areas that have been shaped over time to absorb floods when they occur. Human development on these spaces destroys their ability to absorb excess water. To prevent it, we must implement adequate zoning policies that limit construction there. This is the least costly option for preventing flood damages from getting worse.
Likewise, relocation of flood-prone homes to higher ground has been an important strategy for decades. But there is still a huge investment poured into trying to prevent flooding damage from occurring, building levees to try to keep floods away from our homes and using emergency relief checks and insurance subsidies to pay victims for losses after they occur. Billions of dollars are spent to protect those who have homes and businesses in flood zones — and then billions more are spent on recovery efforts when those protections fail. The Natural Resources Defense Council analyzed thousands of data points and determined that for every $1.72 FEMA spends helping people move away from the paths of floods, $100 is spent to rebuild properties. We are essentially paying people to stay.
Our response to floods has been inadequate, if not misdirected. And now, owing to the heating climate, floods will be growing irrevocably worse, more widespread and longer in duration. We've failed to halt the losses and the threats of the past. Lacking a major course correction, we're destined to fail worse in the future.
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3 hours ago
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Storms FacebookTweetLink The emergency weather alert had come early Fourth of July morning: There would be life-threatening flash flooding in Kerr County, Texas. And Camp Mystic – an all-girls Christian camp situated along the Guadalupe River – housed about 750 campers on the flood-prone site as heavy rains started pouring. Girls as young as 7 were peacefully asleep in the cabins where, days before, their parents had dropped them off for the season's second session, expecting their daughters would spend the summer outdoors enjoying everything from archery to yoga together. For 10-year-old Lucy Kennedy, the sense of security that enveloped the camp was punctured when she was awakened by loud crashes of thunder. 'Settle down and go back to sleep,' Lucy said their counselors told them. Even as the cabins shook and kept Caroline Cutrona awake, the counselor thought nothing of the storm. They regularly had bouts of thunder and lightning in her 11 summers at the camp, and it was going to be OK, she thought. But Lucy couldn't sleep. She had a gut feeling something was wrong. That same feeling hit camp photographer Nancy Clement when water rose up the porch of Cozy cabin in the middle of the night. And at Bug House cabin, counselor Laney Owens was awakened by water puddling on the floor. She ran to the camp office and notified staff the flooding was becoming dangerous – and they needed to start evacuating cabins. That's when Camp Mystic owner Dick Eastland and his son, Edward Eastland, one of the camp directors, told the girls at Bug House cabin to quickly grab pillows and blankets, a 12-year-old camper recounted. They would pile the group of girls into their cars and head to the recreation hall. 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The counselors realized they would need to do whatever it took to guide their young adventurers to safety – even if it meant navigating chest-deep gushing waters in the stark darkness of night, the counselors, campers and their parents said. As the seemingly never-ending night went on, branches and furniture from the campgrounds rushed past the cabin where Zárate, Garza Valdez and their young campers sheltered. The girls asked what was happening, and the two teen counselors reassured them they were safe. To distract them, they played games and sang songs, waiting until they could be evacuated. And at the Wiggle Inn, a junior cabin, security guard Glenn Juenke placed 7- to 10-year-old girls on mattresses to help them ride out the storm as the water rose, he said. Right about then, young girls at another junior cabin were screaming and crying as floodwaters seeped through Chatterbox cabin. Because she had a top bunk, a 9-year-old who was in the cabin with her twin sister told the other campers they could keep their 'lovies' and 'stuffies' there for safekeeping. As flocks of young girls from the intermediate and senior cabins evacuated to the recreation center, Clement and fellow staff members also piled up their belongings onto their beds, figuring the water wouldn't reach there, Clement said. Even if it did, the mattresses would float, they thought. That's when their cabin door snapped in half. The water suddenly burst in. 'Then we were like, 'OK, we need to get out of here,'' Clement recounted. Clement forcefully pried open the other cabin door as the water pulled against it. Once they were able to exit the cabin, the college-aged staffers dispersed along the porch, holding columns to keep steady. When the water reached their shoulders, they knew it was no longer safe there. They had to escape to higher ground. The girls from Bug House made it to the recreation hall around 3 a.m. local time, a 12-year-old camper recounted. The next several hours were 'a blur of prayer, singing, and confusion,' Owens, their counselor, said. With only flashlights to see through the darkness, hundreds of girls spent the night on the second floor of the hall. Their belongings were left on cheer mats – with some floating away. The recreation hall was no longer a fun performance space, where girls would put on colorful costumes and act, sing and dance. 'Everyone was scared, because there was water coming in, and the water started coming in really fast,' the 12-year-old, whose mother did not want her family to be named to protect their privacy, said. Meanwhile, at Chatterbox cabin, her 9-year-old twin sisters saw a car they thought would be rescuing them float away. So the counselors told them to climb out of the window, one by one, the twins said. 'The water was really high, so we walked over, and the counselors were helping us get over,' one of the twins said. When they got to a hilly area, the counselors realized three of the Chatterbox girls were missing, so they went back to search for them, the twins said. 'It was really, really scary because we didn't know where they were. We didn't know if they got washed away in the rapids. We didn't know anything,' one of the twins said. By then, Clement – using the windowsill as a foothold – hoisted herself onto the roof, clutching her phone, wallet and a soaked stuffed animal she's had since she was 2 years old. Then she helped pull other camp employees up, embodying the camp's motto of 'Be Ye Kind, One to Another.' When one staffer who was trying to get on the roof got swept away and caught on a volleyball net, the others tied their shirts together to help, only to find that the staffer swam against the current and made it back, Clement said. The others went back down and helped lift her onto the roof. Once safe, the Chatterbox children – soaked and freezing – cuddled on the hill. Counselors brought the girls water while they waited 'so long' for the flooding to recede. 'Whenever we were cold, they kept giving us hugs and when we were crying, they would always comfort us,' one of the 9-year-old twins said. The twins soon saw a rainbow, which they interpreted as 'a sign from God.' To pass the time, the girls at the recreation hall sang camp and worship songs, prayed and slept until the rain eventually stopped around 6 a.m. When they heard the campers singing nearby, the staffers on the roof felt relieved. 'It was like a sense of hope, even though at that point, the water was still up really high,' Clement said. The staffers took turns praying as a group, hoping the little girls made it out safely, Clement recalled. At the recreation hall, counselors did a roll call. That's when it hit the girls that some of their friends could be lost in the waters. 'Nobody probably would have thought that anyone would be missing,' the 12-year-old girl said. 'You think maybe they're just somewhere else, they're probably just with another group.' The campers' next stop: the Cypress Lake dining hall. In their five hours there, the exhausted girls kept themselves busy by doing arts and crafts and trying to sleep on tables. Nibbling at the pizza counselors handed out, the 12-year-old camper couldn't help but think her cabin 'was probably fully submerged underwater, like this stuff was just gone.' Later that morning, Zárate and Garza Valdez got word they would be evacuated. 'All the girls started panicking, they all began crying because they didn't want to leave the campgrounds, because they wanted to be with their parents,' Garza Valdez told news channel N+ FORO. Finally, helicopters arrived to bring the hundreds of girls and their counselors to safety. The girls were soon loaded onto buses, some barefoot with cuts on their feet after losing their shoes in the rapids. Lucy, the 10-year-old camper, had given away her Crocs to another camper whose shoes were swept away. On one bus, the girls sang a hymn called 'Pass It On.' Then there were gasps and exclamations of 'oh my God' as the girls laid their eyes on the scale of the disaster. Cars stacked up on top of each other and turned upside down. Piles upon piles of debris in place of their beloved second home. Walls ripped off of the buildings where they made their summer memories with friends turned sisters. Now, word was starting to spread of campers still unaccounted for. 'Wake up, Caroline, wake up. This is not real. I'm in a dream,' Cutrona told herself. Parents held their breaths, agonizingly waiting and praying the goodbyes they said to their daughters would not be their last. Hundreds of local, state and federal crews in helicopters and on boats began the extensive search for the girls that afternoon, combing the area and picking up campers and their counselors out of trees. The girls who made it onto the school buses arrived at Ingram Elementary, where they were reunited in tearful embraces. It had been a long day for the cold, hungry and sleep-deprived children, who were emotionally shaken and ready to head home. Only days later would the fallout come into focus: At least 27 campers and counselors were dead. Young and old generations of campgoers, who credit the almost century-old Camp Mystic for shaping them and teaching them essential life skills, were left to grapple with the devastation. At a Monday vigil honoring the victims, Stacey Merchant said she received the first letter her 12-year-old daughter, Reese, sent from camp in the mailbox Monday. Her daughter was safely evacuated. 'I just realized today that some parents are gonna be getting letters, that first letter, from their daughter today,' Owens told CNN affiliate KTRK as her voice broke. 'And that's heartbreaking to even imagine.' Mourners linked hands, singing, 'From the lake, from the hills, from the sky; all is well, safely rest, God is nigh. Goodnight, Camp Mystic, we love you.' CNN's Anderson Cooper, Ed Lavandera, Caroll Alvarado, Graham Hurley, Cindy Von Quednow, Aditi Sangal, Sarah Dewberry, Shoshana Dubnow, Sara Smart, Emma Tucker and Taylor Galgano contributed to this report.
