“We Didn’t Even Have Time to Run”: Texas Flash Flood Kills 51, Viral Video Captures River Swelling 26 Feet in Under an Hour
What started as a picturesque Fourth of July in the Texas Hill Country quickly spiraled into chaos, tragedy, and unimaginable loss.
Families had gathered along the banks of the Guadalupe River, barbecue smoke wafting through the trees and children’s laughter echoing over the water. But just before dusk, something changed.
Locals later described a haunting stillness, as if the earth itself was holding its breath. Moments later, the breeze shifted, clouds thickened, and the river began to rise—at first, subtly. Then, terrifyingly fast.
By the time sirens blared through Kerr County, it was too late for many to escape. The water surged upward—26 feet in just 45 minutes—washing away roads, campsites, and entire homes. In what is now being called one of the deadliest natural disasters in Texas history, at least 51 people have died, including 15 children.
Many more remain unaccounted for, particularly among the 750 girls attending Camp Mystic, a summer retreat located just south of Kerrville.
The camp has since lost power, water, and internet connectivity, complicating rescue and communication efforts. Emergency crews continue to search for up to 20 missing campers, most of them young girls whose families are still waiting for word.
“We didn’t even have time to run,” said one survivor, whose family was pulled from their submerged truck just minutes before it was swept downstream. “It looked calm one second and then it just… came alive.”
A now-viral TikTok video, originally posted by user @kelseycrowder, has stunned millions. The footage begins peacefully at 5:43 p.m., showing kids playing by a shallow riverbank. By 6:11 p.m.,
the water has crept high enough to cover the base of nearby trees. At 6:13 p.m., it’s a fast-moving flood. And by 6:45 p.m., the area is unrecognizable—a roiling, brown torrent with helicopters hovering overhead. The caption reads simply: “Frio River Flood 2025. NATURE. IS. WILD.”
Though the video documents the Guadalupe River, the name “Frio” in the caption sparked confusion and pointed to the broader scope of flash flood risks across central Texas.
Outrage quickly followed the video’s rise to prominence—not just over the devastation, but over the lack of proper warning.
Many pointed fingers at policy decisions that led to reductions in funding for the National Weather Service (NWS) and its emergency alert infrastructure. Multiple commenters claimed they never received a flood warning at all.
“They dismantled the NWS flash flood system and now 50+ people are dead,” one viral comment read.
“We used to get loud alerts for this stuff. Now? Silence.”
“Cutting funds to disaster warnings isn’t ‘small government’—it’s negligence.”
State officials attempted to calm fears, with Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick urging families to remain hopeful:
“Some children might simply be out of contact, not necessarily missing.” But those words rang hollow for many watching the tragedy unfold without answers.
In response, Governor Greg Abbott has issued a statewide disaster declaration, mobilizing National Guard units and increasing air and water search efforts.
Meanwhile, the National Weather Service, under pressure, has reinstated a flood watch across the region, warning that more rain could complicate rescue operations and increase the risk of secondary flash floods.
The flood has reignited a fierce national conversation about climate resilience and crisis management. In a time of increasingly extreme weather events, critics argue that Texas—and the nation at large—is woefully underprepared for rapid-onset disasters.
What happened on the Guadalupe River wasn’t just a fluke of nature. It was a collision of environmental power and human vulnerability—exacerbated by poor planning, cutbacks in public services, and a reliance on outdated systems.
As rescue teams dig through debris and families wait in agony, one thing is clear: this tragedy was not just unexpected—it was avoidable.