Before the floodwaters swallowed Camp Mystic and silenced 27 lives, 9-year-old Janie Hunt clutched one simple treasure to her chest — a beaded necklace her grandmother gave her, spelling out her name in bright, childlike letters. It was a keepsake, a comfort, a charm against the storm. And when tragedy struck, that same necklace led search teams to her body, nestled in the wreckage, still close to her heart.
Janie had only been at camp for five days, her first time away from home. She went to be with her cousins and embrace the adventure of summer under the Texas sky. But when torrential rain turned the Guadalupe River into a deadly surge, Camp Mystic was caught off guard. Roads disappeared, cabins collapsed, and dozens of children and counselors were left vulnerable. Among the missing: Janie Hunt.
Her grandmother, Margaret Hunt, remembered the necklace vividly. “She wore it every day,” she said. “It made her feel brave. And when they found her… it was still around her neck. That’s how they knew it was our Janie.” The necklace, given to Janie after her performance in a school play back in May, had become more than an accessory. It was her anchor — and, ultimately, her voice in the silence.
Janie’s body was discovered near Camp Mystic owner Dick Eastland, who died trying to protect the children. Her family would later learn Janie had spent her last days comforting homesick campers, wiping tears and sharing her fearless smile. “She was always the helper,” Margaret shared. “She told the other kids not to cry. That they’d be okay.”
She loved art, music, and making people laugh. Her drawing of colorful hearts had recently been selected for a school art show, and she sang in her choir with passion, especially her favorite hymn: “Go Tell It on the Mountain.” That song will be sung by her cousins at her funeral, scheduled for Tuesday, July 15.
Janie’s parents, Davin and Anne Lindsey Hunt, are holding on to her letters from camp — simple, sweet updates filled with joy: “I love camp. I love my friends. I’m having a wonderful time.” The words hit differently now, like echoes of a child who saw the best in everything.
“She was the heartbeat of our family,” her obituary reads. “Adventurous, kind, and full of joy.” Margaret added: “Please pray not just for today, but for the weeks and years to come. Her parents are going to need every ounce of strength.”
Janie may have been small, but in the eyes of everyone who loved her, she was larger than life. And even in the rising flood, a few tiny beads spelled out a story that refused to be lost.
