Flood Response Laws Could Close Nearly 200 Texas Youth Camps

Estimated Time to Read: 11 minutes

The Hill Country floods of July 2025 were a devastating act of God that forever altered the lives of many Texas families. In total, 137 people lost their lives, including 27 children and young adults attending Camp Mystic. Families lost children. Siblings lost brothers and sisters. Communities were left grieving in ways that will never fully fade.

Any discussion of public policy that follows must begin with humility and sympathy. The pain experienced by those families is real, ongoing, and deserving of respect.

It is precisely because the tragedy was so profound that the state’s response matters. When lawmakers act in the immediate aftermath of a catastrophe, they do so under intense pressure to provide assurance that such a loss will never occur again. That instinct is understandable and human. Parents want certainty. Lawmakers want solutions.

But natural disasters test the limits of government action. Extreme weather events cannot be legislated away. Risk can be mitigated, but never eliminated. When policy responses attempt to substitute regulatory control for the inherent unpredictability of nature, the result is often a false sense of security paired with real and lasting harm.

That risk is now becoming apparent in Texas.

In the months following the floods, the Texas Legislature passed two sweeping youth camp safety laws during the second called special legislative session. Senate Bill 1 (SB 1), known as the Heaven’s 27 Camp Safety Act, and House Bill 1 (HB 1), titled the Youth Camp Alert, Mitigation, Preparedness, and Emergency Response (CAMPER) Act, were both rooted in a sincere desire to protect children. As these laws move from intent to implementation, camp leaders across the state are warning that the cumulative regulatory burden may unintentionally destroy the very institutions lawmakers sought to safeguard.

Camps Speak Out as House Bill 1 Takes Effect

As HB 1 enters the implementation phase, the abstract language of statute has collided with the operational realities of youth camps. Information recently provided to Texas State Rep. Brian Harrison (R-Midlothian) offers a clear and sobering picture of how the law is being experienced on the ground.

Those concerns have now moved beyond private correspondence. In a recent public statement, State Rep. Harrison warned that implementation of HB 1 could result in the closure of nearly 200 Christian camps across Texas. Harrison, who voted against the legislation during the special session, described the situation as an unintended but foreseeable consequence of the flood response bills and urged lawmakers to reconsider the policy direction.

Camp operators are not questioning the importance of emergency preparedness. Many have spent decades managing risk, training staff, coordinating with local emergency responders, and caring for children entrusted to them by parents. What they are questioning is whether the structure of HB 1 allows for proportionality, feasibility, or discretion.

The central warning shared with Rep. Harrison is stark. Nearly 200 camps may be unable to comply with the new requirements tied to licensure. These are not hypothetical concerns. They stem from concrete mandates related to infrastructure, staffing, reporting, and cost, all of which are now enforced without waiver authority.

Camp leaders stress that compliance under House Bill 1 is no longer about whether a camp is safe or responsible. It is about whether it can meet every requirement regardless of geography, mission, or financial capacity.

Texas Policy Research (TPR) raised these concerns during the legislative process itself. As House Bill 1 moved through the Legislature, Texas Policy Research formally recommended that lawmakers vote no unless the bill was significantly amended. That recommendation was not rooted in opposition to emergency preparedness or child safety, but in concern that the bill’s structure imposed rigid, statewide mandates without sufficient flexibility, waiver authority, or proportionality. The analysis warned that applying uniform infrastructure requirements, expansive rulemaking authority, and unfunded enforcement costs to a diverse camp landscape would likely produce unintended consequences, particularly for nonprofit, faith-based, and rural camps. In hindsight, many of the implementation issues now being raised by camp operators align closely with those earlier warnings.

The Fiber Optic Internet Mandate and Its Real-World Impact

One provision of HB 1 has come to symbolize the broader problem with the legislative response. The law requires youth camps to maintain redundant broadband internet connections, including end-to-end fiber optic service, as a condition of licensure.

In theory, this requirement is framed as a communications safeguard. In practice, it functions as a shutdown mechanism for many camps.

Camp operators report that a preliminary survey indicates at least 173 camps across Texas lack access to fiber optic infrastructure. Many of these camps are located in rural or semi-rural areas where fiber has never been deployed and may never be economically viable without massive public investment.

In one documented case, a camp was quoted approximately $1.7 million dollars to extend fiber service to its property. For nonprofit and faith-based camps that operate on modest tuition and donor support, such costs are impossible to absorb.

The fiber requirement bears little relationship to flood prevention or emergency evacuation. It does not stop rising water or falling trees. Yet because it is directly tied to licensure, failure to comply means a camp cannot legally operate. A broadband policy objective has effectively been embedded within a safety statute and enforced through the threat of closure.

This is a clear example of how well-intended legislation can become overregulatory when applied universally without regard for feasibility.

Expanded Oversight of Private Property and Camp Operations

HB 1 also expands state oversight into routine camp operations and private property use. Camps are now required to notify the Department of State Health Services (DSHS) of modifications to structures or activity locations on their property. Upon receiving such notice, the department may require updates to emergency plans and impose additional compliance obligations.

For camps operated by churches or nonprofit organizations on private land, this represents a fundamental shift. Decisions that were previously made by camp leadership in consultation with parents are now subject to ongoing state review.

Camp leaders argue that this level of oversight undermines the freedom of families and faith-based institutions to operate independently and responsibly. Parents choose camps voluntarily based on trust, values, and mission. Under the new framework, that trust is increasingly displaced by bureaucratic supervision.

Licensing Fees Turn Compliance Into a Financial Crisis

As HB 1 expanded regulatory obligations, enforcement costs followed. The DSHS has proposed dramatic increases in youth camp licensing fees to fund new inspectors, administrators, and enforcement infrastructure.

Camps that previously paid a few hundred dollars per year may soon face annual fees approaching $20,000. Startup fees for new camps climb even higher. These increases represent jumps of several thousand percent.

The Legislature did not appropriate funding to cover these new enforcement costs. Instead, the financial burden has been shifted entirely onto camp operators, many of whom are nonprofits serving children at low cost.

For large nonprofit camps serving thousands of children, five-figure annual fees are devastating. Tuition increases would price families out. Fundraising cannot instantly close the gap. When combined with infrastructure mandates and staffing changes, the fee hikes push many camps past the point of viability.

Camp leaders also point out that the fee structure produces inequitable outcomes. Smaller for-profit camps serving fewer campers at higher tuition rates may pay lower fees than large nonprofit camps serving far more children. The system penalizes mission and scale rather than actual risk.

Staffing Rules and Sudden Capacity Loss

HB 1 directs the DSHS to review and establish minimum camper-to-counselor ratios. Draft rules indicate new age-based ratios that many camps say will reduce overnight capacity by up to 20%.

Camps are built around long-standing ratios. Cabins have fixed numbers of beds. Sudden changes leave beds empty while requiring additional staff. That combination reduces revenue and increases costs simultaneously.

For camps already struggling to meet fiber requirements and licensing fees, staffing changes further compound the financial strain. Camp leaders emphasize that these rules are being implemented with little opportunity for phase-in and minimal consultation with those most affected.

Senate Bill 1 and the Broader Pattern of Overcorrection

HB 1 did not arise in isolation. Earlier in the same special session, lawmakers passed Senate Bill 1 (SB 1), the Heaven’s 27 Camp Safety Act. That law imposed floodplain licensing restrictions tied to FEMA maps, emergency planning mandates, and infrastructure requirements.

Camps warned at the time that tying licensure to administrative floodplain maps would force closures even where cabins had safely operated for decades. Rebuilding costs would reach into the millions, and camps would be prohibited from operating during reconstruction.

Those warnings were often dismissed as speculative. Today, they appear prescient.

Together, SB 1 and HB 1 reveal a pattern that is common in tragedy-driven policymaking. Lawmakers expand regulatory scope in response to loss. Agencies fill in details through rulemaking. Costs rise. Flexibility disappears. The cumulative burden becomes unsustainable.

An Act of God and the Illusion of Regulatory Control

The Hill Country floods were an extraordinary natural disaster driven by extreme weather conditions beyond anyone’s control. That reality does not absolve camps of responsibility. Youth camps have a duty to assess risk, prepare for emergencies, train staff, communicate clearly with families, and continually improve safety procedures based on experience and evolving conditions.

Many camps already do this work. Emergency planning, coordination with local responders, evacuation procedures, and staff training are not new concepts to the camp community. Reasonable expectations that camps maintain and improve these practices are both appropriate and necessary.

What the tragedy revealed, however, is not that camps failed to take safety seriously, but that no set of rules can fully eliminate risk from extreme natural events. Government regulation can encourage preparedness and reduce certain dangers, but it cannot guarantee immunity from acts of nature. When policy is written as though total prevention is achievable, it creates an illusion of control that does not reflect reality.

In the wake of the floods, the state’s response has shifted a disproportionate share of risk and cost onto private camps through rigid mandates and escalating fees. Camps are being asked to absorb the financial and operational burden of demonstrating compliance with an ever expanding regulatory framework, even when that framework offers no clear connection to preventing the type of catastrophe that occurred.

This is where well-intended government involvement becomes counterproductive. By attempting to regulate away all risk, policy drifts from encouraging responsible preparedness toward imposing requirements so burdensome that they threaten the survival of the very institutions expected to implement them. When that happens, safety is not enhanced. It is undermined by the loss of experienced operators, trusted programs, and the institutional knowledge that comes from decades of responsible stewardship.

Economic and Community Consequences of Camp Closures

Texas youth camps contribute billions of dollars annually to the state economy. In rural areas, they are economic anchors. They provide jobs, support local businesses, and offer families affordable opportunities for growth and connection.

If camps close, the damage will ripple outward. Local economies will suffer. Seasonal employment opportunities will disappear. Churches and nonprofits will lose ministries central to their mission. Families will lose trusted summer programs. Children will lose formative experiences that cannot be easily replaced.

These consequences do not appear on fiscal notes. They unfold quietly over time.

Conclusion: Compassion, Restraint, and a Better Path Forward

The families who lost loved ones in the Hill Country floods deserve compassion, remembrance, and ongoing support. Their grief should never be minimized or used as a shield for policy. Acknowledging the limits of regulation does not dishonor their loss. It respects it.

Texas lawmakers acted with sincere intent in the aftermath of tragedy. That intent is not in question. What is in question is whether the resulting laws reflect the restraint and proportionality required when responding to an act of God.

Camp leaders are not asking to escape responsibility. They are asking lawmakers to recognize that safety cannot be achieved by regulations so heavy that it forces camps to close. Protecting children also means preserving the institutions that serve them.

Texas still has an opportunity to recalibrate. Lawmakers can revisit SB 1 and HB 1 to restore flexibility, allow waivers where mandates are infeasible, moderate licensing fees, and ensure that agency rulemaking does not outpace legislative intent.

If the goal is to honor the lives lost, the state must avoid compounding tragedy with unintended harm. Safety and sustainability are not competing values. But unless Texas adjusts course, well-intended legislation may end up doing what the floods themselves did not, effectively ending an industry that has served Texas families for generations.

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