Eight-year-old Blakely McCrory was living a dream. This summer marked her first time at Camp Mystic, a beloved Christian camp nestled along the Guadalupe River in Texas Hill Country. For Blakely, it was more than just summer fun—it was a family tradition. Her mother, Lindsey McLeod McCrory, had spent her childhood summers there, as had Lindsey’s stepsisters, stepmother, and sisters.
“Blakely was ecstatic,” Lindsey, 50, tells PEOPLE. “She couldn’t wait to be outdoors. For her, it was the ultimate sleepover—four weeks in a cabin with 11 other girls who quickly became her best friends.”
The third-generation camper dove headfirst into camp life—horseback riding, fishing, basketball, swimming. “She loved it all,” her mother says.
On July 4, as torrential rain swept through the region, Lindsey, who was in Europe with her sister, received word of flooding at Camp Mystic. Initially, she wasn’t alarmed. “I was there during a flood in the summer of ’87,” she recalls. “We just stayed in the cabin, played games, listened to music. I thought, ‘They’re probably having a blast.’”
But hours later, a call shattered her calm: “Some campers are unaccounted for.”
Frantically checking voicemails, Lindsey found one from Camp Mystic confirming her worst fear—Blakely was missing.
She rushed to book a flight back to Texas that same night, praying for updates. Her older son, Brady—whom Blakely affectionately called “Bro-Bro”—went to a nearby evacuation center to search. Still, there was no sign of the 8-year-old.
“I kept telling myself, maybe she and a counselor were lost but safe,” Lindsey says. “You want to believe that.”
On Monday night, Lindsey received the heartbreaking news: Blakely’s body had been found.
Surrounded by loved ones, she found a glimmer of peace in knowing her daughter’s fate. “The most terrifying part was the not knowing,” she says. “I’d always feared something happening to her and never finding out. That uncertainty was the hardest part.”
She also expressed deep compassion for the park ranger who made the call. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through—making those calls, again and again. I had prepared myself for the possibility. So I was calm. I knew Blakely was in a safe place now, with her daddy in heaven.”
Blakely’s father, Blake, passed away in March at age 59 after a short battle with cancer. Just weeks before Blakely’s death, Lindsey’s brother also died—also at 59.
Still, Blakely remained a light. “She was a live wire,” her mother recalls. “Always smiling, always cracking jokes. She was a prankster—once she put her pet turtle in my purse.”
She also had a strong and comforting presence. One of her counselors told Lindsey that during the flood, Blakely encouraged her fellow campers not to be afraid.
Among the items recovered from her cabin was a letter Blakely had written home:
“Dear Mom, How are you? I am good. Camp is amazing.”
She had been especially excited about tennis and horseback riding.
“That letter means everything to me,” Lindsey says. “I know she was having the best time of her life.”
In the aftermath of the tragedy—where at least 27 campers and counselors died—Lindsey finds strength in honoring her daughter’s memory. “I want to be the kind of mom who keeps her spirit alive, who keeps her close.”
Now, she and her son Brady are healing together. “It’s so hard to be without her, and without my husband,” she says. “But we’re leaning on our faith. I believe she’s in heaven, that it happened quickly, and she didn’t suffer. She’s surrounded by love.”
“And I know,” Lindsey says softly, “she’s watching over us.”
