‘TEXAS HAS A TYPE OF RESILIENCE’: Jenna Bush Hager, Whose Mother Was Once a Camp Mystic Counselor, Responds to Devastating Floods

As the floodwaters recede from the banks of the Guadalupe River, Texas is left counting its dead and searching for the missing in a tragedy that has struck at the very heart of its summer traditions. Among those deeply affected is TODAY’s Jenna Bush Hager—herself a former camper, and the daughter of former First Lady Laura Bush, who spent her own summers as a counselor at the storied Camp Mystic. Now, with at least 81 lives lost across the state and dozens still unaccounted for, Jenna’s emotional tribute to Camp Mystic and the spirit of Texas is resonating far beyond her home state.

A Century-Old Institution, Shattered by Disaster

Camp Mystic, nestled in the rolling hills of Hunt, Texas, has been a rite of passage for generations of Texas girls. “My mom was a counselor there,” Jenna shared on TODAY, her voice trembling with emotion. “So many of my friends were raised at this camp. Texas camps are institutions—where grandmothers, mothers, and daughters have all gone.” But on July 4th, that legacy was ripped apart. Torrential rains sent the Guadalupe River surging to catastrophic levels, sweeping through the camp and leaving devastation in its wake.

By July 7th, the numbers were staggering: 27 campers and counselors confirmed dead, and at least 10 children still missing. The camp’s own statement captured the heartbreak: “Our hearts are broken alongside our families that are enduring this unimaginable tragedy. We are praying for them constantly.” The search for survivors continues, as families cling to hope and communities rally together.

Personal Ties and Painful Memories

For Jenna, the news cuts painfully close to home. Her mother, Laura Bush, was once a drama counselor at Camp Mystic, and many of Jenna’s friends had children there just last week. “The stories I heard over the last couple days were beautiful and heartbreaking,” Jenna said, reflecting on the unique spirit that defines Texas camps. “Texas has a type of resilience where they’re generous people, where people want to reach out and help.”

She painted a vivid picture of camp life: “You’re thinking about 90-degree weather, no air conditioning. My kids are at camp in Texas, and my husband said, ‘Why are we sending our kids to Texas, to camp? It’s hot!’ And it’s because of the love that’s there.” For Jenna, these camps aren’t just places—they’re the backdrop to cherished family memories and lifelong friendships.

A Community United in Grief and Grit

The tragedy has touched every corner of Texas. In Kerr County alone, where Camp Mystic sits, at least 68 people—including 28 children—have died. The camp’s longtime director, Dick Eastland, died a hero, attempting to bring campers to safety. “He raised so many girls,” Jenna said, calling the Eastland family “Texas royalty.” She recalled how he became a summer father to generations of campers, teaching them to be brave and loving. “His legacy will live on.”

As emergency crews continue their search, and families wait for news, the outpouring of support has been overwhelming. “We are deeply grateful for the outpouring of support from community, first responders, and officials at every level,” Camp Mystic said in a statement. President Donald Trump has declared a major disaster in Kerr County, while the National Weather Service warns that more rain and potential flooding may be on the way.

The Unbreakable Spirit of Texas

In the face of such unimaginable loss, Jenna’s words strike a chord: “Texas has a type of resilience.” It’s a resilience forged in the heat, in the tradition of sending children to camps with no air conditioning, in the bonds of family and community that endure even the worst storms. As the state mourns, Jenna’s message is clear—Texas will grieve, but it will not be broken.

Her heartfelt reflection, rooted in family history and personal loss, is a reminder of what truly makes Texas strong: its people, its traditions, and the unbreakable ties that bind them together. As the waters recede and the rebuilding begins, Jenna Bush Hager’s words offer comfort and hope to a state—and a nation—in mourning.