The Camp of Our Dreams
/Lindsey McMillan and others recount memories of Camp Mystic
By Lindsey McMillan
There’s a camp on the Guadalupe River. It’s the camp of my dreams.
There’s an old camp song that ends with, “Camp Mystic, I will pledge my true and faithful love to you.” As locals share stories about the beloved summer camp they called home for years, it is clear that the pledge is more than a lyric. This blissful summer haven was struck with tragedy when floodwaters rushed through in the early morning of July 4th, 2025. Usually, the Guadalupe is calm and clear, gently lapping the edges of centuries-old cypress trees that grow alongside its banks. Many summer camps dot the landscape along Highway 39 in Hunt, approximately 18 miles outside of Kerrville, Texas. Camp Mystic is one of those camps, set to celebrate its 100th birthday in 2026.
Many traditions still exist from 1926, which mothers, daughters, granddaughters, sisters, aunts, and cousins have carried across generations. Former campers stretch across the state and beyond, all recently connected by their grief for the young people lost in the flood, along with longtime camp director and owner, Dick Eastland. Dick and his wife, Tweety, served as surrogate parents to countless girls who attended the Christian camp each summer. Online, the fondest of memories are being shared, along with songs, stories, and photos. Kerr County suffered the worst of the flood, and many people are still missing from the riverbanks where they were happily celebrating a long holiday weekend.
“ Whether you’re lucky enough to experience this place for one summer or 15, these values stick with you forever.”
To process this grief, many former campers are sharing memories from Mystic, tucked neatly away in the Texas Hill Country, where limestone hills rise above the crystal water’s edge. This includes myself, as I spent 10 years as a Mystic camper and counselor alongside my sisters; my daughter, Emily, spent four summers there as well. We all have friendships we cherish and hold close. Dick Eastland was one of those friends, happy and full of smiles as he greeted the campers every summer. His family has continuously owned the camp since 1939, encouraging and challenging girls with three unchanging imperatives: “Be a better person for being at Mystic, let Mystic bring out the best in you, and grow spiritually.”
Camp Mystic’s website hosts a picture of their famous lighted sign, which illuminates the hills each night. Beneath the picture is the Bible verse John 1:5: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” In the darkness of the past few weeks, current and former campers have embraced this verse, keeping a light shining for this beloved spot.
Anna Scott Bruner, a 7th grader at St. James Day School, was scheduled to return to Mystic this summer for her fifth year, due to depart in a few weeks. “Two years ago, I won the Respect Award for my tribe,” she said. “I have been with the same 10 or 11 girls my entire time at camp. Seeing the same familiar faces at camp every summer for two weeks is how we build such strong bonds.”
submitted photos
Elle Floyd, a recent graduate of Texas High School, attended Mystic for 10 years and just returned from being a first-year counselor in late June. To her, camp feels like family: “Mystic means so much to me,” she said. “It has given me my best friends, leadership skills, self-confidence, and patience, and it has helped me grow in my faith. Mystic is hard to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced the love within the green gates. It truly is our home away from home.”
Mary Claire Boudreaux Rippee, who spent 10 years as a camper and two years as a counselor, shared that her time at Mystic helped shape her. “Mystic was formative to who I am as a person, as a Christian, and as a friend,” she said. “It is heaven. Mystic means the world to me; it is my heart, and I hope it can continue to be a generational treasure trove for young women across the country.”
Her sister Anna Catherine Boudreaux spent 10 years as a camper, two as a counselor, and one year as the Activities Director. “The camp and the Eastlands guided you to become a better person, a more compassionate friend, and a stronger Christian,” she said. “Every year, so many girls count down the days until they can return to those familiar green gates. It’s a feeling I know so many of us share. Once a Mystic girl, forever a Mystic girl.”
The youngest Boudreaux sister, Sarah Grace, spent five summers at camp. “Mystic teaches its campers to ‘be ye kind one to another,’ to ‘have the faith of a mustard seed,’ and that ‘love isn’t love until you give it away,’” she recalled. “Whether you’re lucky enough to experience this place for one summer or 15, these values stick with you forever.”
Lindsey and Emily McMillan’s shared camp mementos, including a teddy bear that was gifted to Emily by her aunt, who also attended Camp Mystic. submitted photos.
As we share these reflections of our happy summer home, we grieve alongside the families of the young campers and counselors who just weeks ago were celebrating summer and having the time of their lives. Former campers hold hearts and hands as we reconnect with friends both near and far. My friend Jessica Miller and I attended Mystic the same years, and she shared with me her memory of the magical scenery: “I always enjoyed the beautiful tree-lined Guadalupe River,” she said. “The waterfront was absolutely breathtaking, with steep, rocky cliffs on one side of the river and lush, green campgrounds on the other side. It was such a quiet, peaceful place where we felt happy, safe, and loved.”
The outpouring of concern and prayers throughout Texarkana has been a comfort, with local groups like Restoration of Hope going to Kerr County to provide aid; other businesses, such as Ledwell, have donated funds to relief efforts. As the area tries to heal, so do many who hold the Hill Country close to their hearts. This is especially true for those whose lives are intertwined with a camp hurting right now. But a light shines forth, giving hope to the faithful. After all, that same song sung year after year begins with, “There’s a camp on the Guadalupe River. It’s the camp of my dreams.”