Thirty-seven years ago, a devastating flash flood reshaped the lives of many and the landscape of the Texas Hill Country. On July 16, 1987, the Guadalupe River swelled drastically, claiming the lives of 10 people after flooding Pot O’ Gold Christian Camp near Comfort, as KSAT reported. Camp attendees, largely youth from Seagoville Baptist Church, had their retreat cut short as heavy rainfall upstream turned the river into an uncontrollable torrent. While evacuating, a bus carrying 43 campers got caught in the rising waters; it was a harrowing struggle for survival as the river showed its newfound might, with many forced to cling to branches for their lives.
The sudden flood, originating 30 miles upstream, caught the camp at a moment of misjudged calm and in an attempt to flee the children were thrust into chaos with a bus stalling and a van subsequently trapped, leading to a desperate rescue attempt as described by Mike Rice, a news helicopter pilot, who recalled that seemingly overnight normalcy had transformed into a fight against the violent surge of nature, according to KSAT; the floodwaters did not flow with the usual predictability, instead, an old "historic channel" brought a wall of water upon the stranded vehicles in a sudden and fateful onslaught.
Memories of that day persist, as Luther Vanlandingham Jr., now a reserve deputy at the Kendall County Sheriff's Office, recalled the loud rushing noise and the surprise at the river's height, which he had never seen before, marking a stark contrast to the typical tranquility of the riverbanks. Swift collective emergency response efforts by DPS helicopters and other first responders were launched as the rescue turned into a recovery mission, and countless acts of bravery unfolded, including the valiant efforts of teenager John Bankston Jr., who "was able to help multiple of his friends," as Mike Rice shared with KSAT, ultimately paying with his life while trying to save others.
Years after the disaster, tangible changes have occurred in the wake of the flood, including the erection of a memorial plaque bearing the names of those who perished and the reconstruction of the road that the river had claimed, raised to at least 15 feet above water to mitigate future tragedies, with the aftermath still resonating powerfully in the local conscience. Echoing a blend of nostalgia and sorrow, former camper Chip Asberry reflected on the incident as "a blast," marred by the abrupt and jarring need to evacuate due to the sudden rise of the river, adding a somber tone to memories of a week meant for fellowship which instead sealed an indelible and tragic chapter in Texas history, as recounted by MySanAntonio.
