Brian Keeper has spent a lifetime by the Guadalupe River in Hunt, Texas. His family’s summer house, built in 1975, was more than just a home—it was where his childhood memories were made. They fished, swam, and celebrated family milestones on its banks. But this past July, that lifetime came crashing down when the river flooded the property like never before.
Keeper was 68 when he woke up early on July 3 to find water seeping into the house. He expected just a minor leak caused by the old tin roof. Instead, the Guadalupe River had swollen so high it surrounded the house, flooding the yard and reaching the back porch—levels far beyond historic marks. His dad, careful when building the house decades earlier, had raised it 10 feet above the 1932 flood line. That wasn’t enough this time.
With the water rising fast, Keeper grabbed a life vest, flashlights, and his small poodle, Fidel. He tried leaving the house, but water blocked the way. He called 911 and neighbors, helping to warn others. As water burst through doors and windows, the current was so strong it split the house’s foundation. At one point, Keeper was swept off his feet, clutching the stair banister with Fidel in his arms, fearing the worst. Somehow, he climbed to the loft and waited. Hours passed before the water slowly receded. When it was safe, he squeezed through a blocked doorway and stepped outside—into a very different world.
Keeper lost nearly everything: the house, furniture, personal belongings, even his ID and wallet. For now, he’s sleeping wherever he can, from friends’ couches to a nearby camp, while friends and strangers have rallied to support him, including through a GoFundMe that raised close to $30,000 and a donated trailer. Despite the loss, Keeper says he’s ready to rebuild though he isn’t sure how or when.
His story is just one of thousands in Kerr County. The July 4 floods damaged over 2,000 structures, caused at least 138 deaths, and resulted in more than a billion dollars in damage. Most residents, like Keeper, did not have flood insurance. Rebuilding will be tough, requiring new permits and updated building codes that demand homes be raised above flood levels. County officials who oversee permits are already overwhelmed by the large number of applications expected.
In Hunt and the nearby town of Kerrville, several families face similar tough choices. Some want to rebuild on piers or elevated foundations. Others consider selling their land to local governments through buyout programs designed to reduce future flood risk by converting high-risk areas into open space or parks. But buyouts are complicated for small towns. They can reduce the tax base and often don’t offer enough financial incentive, especially in rural areas with lower land values.
FEMA’s response to the disaster was slow, partly because of new policies requiring higher-level approvals on large expenses and staffing issues that left many calls from survivors unanswered. Funding for hazard mitigation and buyouts has been cut in recent years, adding to uncertainty for people trying to recover.
For Keeper and his siblings, the path forward is unclear. Their family trust covers some costs, but the flood destroyed much of what they owned. The house sits in a floodway, the most dangerous part of the floodplain, meaning strict rules apply to rebuilding or any new construction. Still, Keeper is determined. “Taking care of this house was like taking care of another member of a family,” he said. Now he plans to build something smaller, more manageable—still by the river, still with Fidel at his side.
The 2025 floods are a harsh reminder that living by the Guadalupe River comes with risks. For communities in Kerr County, the road to recovery will require tough decisions, new building standards, and perhaps new ways to live with the river’s power. But, as Keeper’s story shows, the bond people have with these places runs deep—and many are willing to face the challenge to keep them alive.