A Love Letter To Camp Mystic & Here’s How You Can Help

An Insider’s Look At The Heart Of Camp Mystic As A Forever Home Away From Home, And Why The Fabled Camp Is So Beloved

By Merritt Norris Photography courtesy of Mystic.CampInTouch.com

Ten camper cabins, two as a counselor, 12 total summers at Camp Mystic. My first summer attending Camp Mystic was in 2011. For years, I had grown up hearing spectacular stories from my mom, listening to her sing songs that would one day be etched into my memory, and flipping through old camp magazines, dreaming of the moment I’d walk across the stage at Rec Hall to draw a red or blue paper slip, determining my fate as a Tonkawa or a Kiowa. After my first year as a Twins II camper, attending the two-week term (Third Term) in August, I was completely hooked. I begged my parents to let me return for the month-long session the following June (First Term), desperate to spend as much time as possible in the place that had already surpassed every expectation my eight-year-old heart could imagine.

The impact that Camp Mystic has had on my life is so deeply woven into who I am that words can hardly begin to capture it. It’s not just a place, but a countless collection of feelings, small sacred moments shared between friends who become sisters, and the most beautifully niche rhythms of daily life that quietly shape you during your time inside the green gates. It’s the traditions, the unspoken bonds, and the everyday magic that unfolds, sunrise to sundown, Reville to TAPS, summer after summer.

Camp Mystic is the one place where time stopped, and we would all escape the “real world.” We could be the raw versions of ourselves, and it seemed as if nothing bad could ever happen (except maybe a bad ice cream flavor at lunch that day). Freed from the distraction of phones, school, boys, and the constant noise of everyday life, Mystic was the place where I felt most authentically myself. Not only did I learn to show up for myself, but I discovered the joy and purpose of showing up for the people around me. The unbreakable bonds I formed with my cabinmates, my counselors, the older camp idols and tribe leaders I once looked up to, and later, as I served as a counselor with my own campers, are connections I will carry with me for life. The everlasting love and guidance of the Eastlands is something I will forever hold close to my heart. Camp Mystic was the place where I felt God’s presence most vividly. A place where my faith was not only strengthened, but undeniably present. For twelve unforgettable summers, Camp Mystic was my home away from home, my little slice of heaven on Earth, and my happy place.

A Love Letter To Camp Mystic

It’s the smell of campfire smoke as you near the top of the hike up to your tribe hill, and the lingering scent on your white V-neck tee and royal blue or red Soffe shorts afterward. It’s the smell of the fresh cypress trees and the early morning dew on the grass as you head to breakfast, sometimes even in a sweatshirt. It’s the smell of rubbing alcohol running out of your ears after a free swim that the waterfront counselors swear is some ice cream flavor. It’s the unmistakable scent of freshly baked dinner rolls drifting through the air, signaling that the 30-minute bell for dinner is just about to ring.

It’s the ache in your muscles and the soul-satisfying fatigue after pouring every ounce of strength into a war canoe race. It’s the emotional rush that crashes over you as you lift your paddle from the water, knowing you gave it your all. It’s hysterically laughing until your stomach hurts, as the supply of inside jokes never runs short. It’s bobbing up and down in the cold waters of the Guad, trying to warm your body after underestimating the morning coolness. Then, just hours later, you find yourself craving that same cold, sitting in the grass, sun beating down, and your tribe’s hand symbol held high in the air as you cheer on the older girls during a high-stakes game of Bombardment. It’s the dread of a Sunday afternoon tribe game, after a slow morning without activities, spent with your cabinmates. It’s the way the cold air hits you when you enter the interior of the Commisary to purchase some more stamps, shampoo, or the must-have Mystic merch.

It’s peering through the screen window at the back of Harrison Hall to sneak a peek at what would be for dinner that night. Then, running off to report to anyone with the lingering question. It’s pausing to watch whatever dance class was being taught on stage at Rec Hall that period, when you were supposed to be in a different activity of your own. It’s coming back to your cabin after the commissary to find a mystery letter waiting on your bed from your Big Sis, telling you what to dress up as in the days leading up to the big reveal. It’s the walrus in an apron (Chef Richard Eastland, is that you?) suddenly appearing out of nowhere, and realizing that a day filled with candy, Coca-Cola, and all the chaotic fun of CC day is soon to follow.

It’s 15 rahs echoing through the dining hall. It’s the ring of the five-minute bell before a meal, and then the green screen doors to Harrison Hall slamming as the girls from the Hill rush in just a moment too late. It’s the clank of the metal serving trays as the Aides high-five them against one another’s, after sprinting around the entire dining hall singing the Slue-Foot Sue. It’s the cicadas humming you to sleep, along with the soft whir from the fans, and quiet whispers of girls saying goodnight. It’s the crackle over the speaker system before reporting a junior camper to the stables for horseback riding (she probably confused her MWF schedule with her TTS schedule). Or the beginning of “God Bless America” by Kate Smith, signaling to stop in your tracks, face the flag, and place your hand over your heart. It’s the all-too-exciting announcement: “Attention, all campers and counselors, your rest period is now over, and the mail will be leaving in five minutes.”

I still can’t fully comprehend what unfolded in the Texas Hill Country on July 4th. The heartbreak and devastation of this tragedy have shaken me in ways I’ve never experienced. The depth of grief is overwhelming, and my heart goes out to the girls, the families, the friends, the Eastlands, and the entire surrounding communities whose lives were forever changed.

The horrifying visuals of the flood aftermath strike a chord of heartbreak and despair. Yet somehow, they beautifully trigger a rush of the most wonderful memories that are stored safely in my mind for all of eternity. I remember counting down the days until I could return to camp, more excited than even the night before Christmas. And every year, as my dad drove me home through those Texas Hill Country hills, tears would stream down my cheeks because I simply couldn’t believe the term was over. The month had come to an end, and I had to leave behind my best friends and the most magical place on Earth.

The Legacy of Camp Mystic’s Leaders

The Eastlands, the family who has lovingly run Camp Mystic for generations, are more than just your average camp directors. They were our second parents and grandparents, guiding us through each summer with quiet wisdom, deep compassion, and unwavering devotion. Their love for the camp, its traditions, and every single camper and staff member was unquestionable. They created a sanctuary where we were known, nurtured, and cherished.

Dick Eastland’s servant heart was pure and humble, his presence gentle yet firm. Dick Eastland died a true hero, and his legacy will live on not only in Mystic’s history but in the hearts of all who had the privilege of knowing him. On that tragic night, he gave his life in the most selfless act imaginable: protecting the girls at Camp Mystic, whom he cared for so deeply. I am forever grateful to have been one of the many lives he touched so profoundly.

There was his constant encouragement to catch a fish, unhook it yourself, and grab a photo to be posted on the Mystic website to show it off. Then came the iconic “Ask me about my big fish” sticker, worn proudly for the rest of the day like a badge of honor. Even if the legend of Big Charlie the catfish always felt far out of reach personally, I’ll never forget the shock and pride I felt the year I earned a Silver M (a silver charm awarded to campers who show growth and improvement in their activities over the term) in fishing. Or when the walk to your next activity seemed especially long, and you’d happen to catch him on his golf cart and steal a quick ride across the campgrounds. It’s these memories that fill my heart with joy and that demonstrate the true character of Dick Eastland.

I can still hear his voice over the microphone on the waterfront, reading selections from Iney’s Thoughts during Sunday morning Assembly and Devotionals. Afterward, we’d head back to our cabins to check our cabin clean-up inspection scores, write chicken letters, and laugh and play under the hum of fans turned on full blast and charm bracelets clanking with every move. Then we’d make our way to Harrison Hall for fried chicken Sunday lunch, our chicken letters in hand, which was always followed by a scoop of Homemade Vanilla Blue Bell ice cream with a spoonful of peanut butter on top.

Time will pass, and the world will begin to move forward. Still, I ask that we continue to hold a place in our hearts for the lives lost, the families forever impacted, and the first responders who faced unimaginable challenges with courage and strength. Let us remember the loved ones who are gone too soon and should be recognized for the irreplaceable mark they’ve left on the world. They are heroes. They are fighters.

One day, this may become a moment spoken of like legend, something distant, almost mythical, perhaps even listed as a question on a KT Trivia study sheet. A devastating chapter forever woven into Mystic’s 99-year history. For many of us, this is a reality we will never be able to forget. There’s an unspoken oath that lives within every Mystic girl, something sacred and enduring that we carry with us for our lifetime.

I am eternally grateful for the time I spent at Mystic and for the sisterhood that I have to lean on during this difficult time. While the road ahead is uncertain, in my heart and soul, I hold on to a deep belief and hope that through the strength and support of the community, the spirit of Mystic will continue to live on and raise generations of girls just as it has for so many years.

“A bell is not a bell until you ring it, a song is not a song until you sing it, love in your heart wasn’t put there to stay – love is not love ‘til you give it away”

Please continue to keep Camp Mystic, Kerr County, and everyone affected in mind. Here are a few resources and ways you can support:

• GoFundMe has set up a page featuring several fundraisers for Texas flood relief.
• The Kerr County Flood Relief Fund will direct donations to vetted organizations providing rescue, relief, and recovery efforts, as well as flood assistance. The Fund will support the communities of Hunt, Ingram, Kerrville, Center Point, and Comfort.
• The American Red Cross is providing immediate financial assistance and other support to those affected by the Texas Hill Country floods. Donations to the Red Cross, designated for disaster relief, will help provide shelter, food, and comfort to impacted families, according to the Red Cross.
• The Salvation Army in Kerrville is accepting online donations to help those impacted by the floods.
• Band Together Texas proceeds raised from the August 17th concert at The Moody Center in Austin. The fund is still accepting donations.
• H-E-B is taking donations in-store and online through their Spirit of Giving Fund. 100% of donations will be donated to support flood relief efforts. Customers in stores can ask to round up purchases or to donate a set amount of their choice.
• Kendra Scott will donate 100% of the proceeds from sales of the company’s Everlyne bracelets. The bracelets are sold out online, but are still available in stores.
• Airbnb.org is offering free emergency housing to people impacted by flooding in Central Texas. You can sign up to host or donate online, with 100% of donations going toward funding emergency stays.
• Through the end of July, Whataburger will donate 100% of the purchase price from their first Commemorative Cup collection to flood relief. These limited-edition cups are available exclusively at participating Whataburger restaurants across 17 states.
• Through August 4, 2025, James Avery is donating 100% of the full-value proceeds from the “Deep in the Heart of Texas” Charm to help those impacted by the floods.
• All profits from the Jon Hart Kelly Green Grandes will be donated to Texas Hill Country flood relief efforts until August 4, 2025.
• DoorDash is making a $1 donation for every order made from Texas businesses to the Community Foundation of the Texas Hill Country’s relief fund, up to a maximum of $250,000. The company is also donating $100,000 of credit to nonprofits that are helping with recovery on the ground.
• Through August 31, proceeds from Lipton Hard Iced Tea 12-pack sales across Texas (up to $30K) will go directly to the Kerr County Flood Relief Fund. Texans can participate by purchasing a 12-pack at any participating retailer statewide.
• Alamo Drafthouse Cinema will offer guests the chance to donate with each ticket purchase at all locations.
• Chef Tim Love of Fort Worth created a special edition “hat with heart,” from which proceeds will go to World Central Kitchen and grief counseling for those impacted.