On July 4, 2025, my 8-year-old daughter, Sarah, died in a catastrophic flood while attending Camp Mystic in Texas. Twenty-six other girls died alongside her.
Like many parents, we trusted that when we sent our child to a summer camp — especially one with a century-long reputation — basic safety systems would be in place. We assumed there would be transparency about risks, trained staff, emergency communication and evacuation plans.
That assumption cost our daughter her life.
Patrick Marsh (left) and Lars Hollis (right, father of Virginia Hollis ,who also died last summer at Camp Mystic, at the Missouri Capitol last week.
What happened at Camp Mystic exposed dangerous gaps in how youth camps are regulated, monitored and held accountable. Those gaps exist not only in Texas, but in Missouri and across the country.
Camps are entrusted with children during some of the most vulnerable moments of their lives — sleeping away from home, often in remote locations, entirely dependent on adults for safety. Yet in many states, camp safety regulations are minimal, inconsistently enforced or outdated.
Camp Mystic is located in “Flash Flood Alley,” one of the most flood-prone regions in Texas. Flooding there is routine, predictable and well-documented. Yet parents — most of whom live far away — never were told of this risk. That lack of transparency denied families the chance to make informed decisions about their daughters’ safety, and it’s not exclusive to Camp Mystic.
At Camp Mystic, there was no effective emergency communication system. Cell service in the area is unreliable, and counselors were required to surrender their phones. There were no walkie-talkies, no intercoms and no effective way to communicate evacuation instructions to each cabin. In an emergency where minutes matter, this void left staff unable to coordinate a response and left counselors and campers without guidance.
Even more alarming was the absence of a viable evacuation plan. Texas law requires licensed camps to have disaster plans, evacuation routes for occupied buildings, and trained staff. Camp Mystic had none of this.
“Many states, including Missouri, rely heavily on self-reporting, limited inspections and vague emergency planning requirements.”
Their written plan explicitly prohibited evacuation and required campers to remain in low-lying cabins near the river. This was not a plan — it was an invitation for catastrophe.
These are not extraordinary failures. They are basic ones. And they are precisely the kinds of failures legislation is meant to prevent. And Missouri can do just that.
Missouri sends thousands of children to in-state and out-of-state camps every year. Parents reasonably expect that camps operating here — or serving Missouri families — meet rigorous safety standards. But many states, including Missouri, rely heavily on self-reporting, limited inspections and vague emergency planning requirements.
That must change.
This week, the Missouri Legislature can — and must — pass critical pieces of legislation that take a step toward establishing long-overdue safety standards for summer camps across Missouri.
These proposed bills and amendments would require camps to conduct background checks, obtain a state license and comply with state inspections and enforcement rules, as well as maintain a formal emergency plan. Camps will need to meet basic safety standards in alignment with The Campaign for Camp Safety’s core pillars of Prevention, Detection, Training and Response.
These measures are not burdensome. They are common sense. Many Missouri camps already implement these safeguards proactively. But we want to ensure all camps in the state meet the most rigorous safety requirements that already are standard in many other youth-serving environments, such as in schools, athletic venues and child care facilities.
As a professor specializing in facility and event management, I teach emergency preparedness and risk mitigation every semester. What failed at Camp Mystic would not pass even an introductory course on safety planning. That is not a matter of hindsight — it is a matter of negligence.
This is not about punishing tradition or eliminating the summer camp experience. Camps can be transformative places for children. Sarah experienced joy, independence and confidence during her short time at Mystic. Those experiences matter. We want them to continue — for all children.
But no tradition, no legacy and no institution is worth a child’s life.
Missouri lawmakers have the opportunity — and the obligation — to lead. By strengthening camp safety laws, Missouri can help ensure families never again receive the phone call we did. That children are protected not by hope, but by preparation. And that parents can trust that no matter where they send their child to camp, their camper will be safe.
Missouri’s legislative session ends this Friday, May 15, and it is more vital than ever to push for stronger camp safety standards.
Sarah and the other 26 girls deserved better. The least we can do is ensure their deaths lead to real, lasting change.
Patrick Marsh is the father of one of the Heaven’s 27 who lost their girls in the tragic flash floods at Camp Mystic in the Texas Hill Country in July 2025. He was part of the push to pass meaningful camp safety reforms in Texas and Alabama this past year.