Texas is a land of diversity—from our vast plains in the north, west and up into the Panhandle, to our winding Gulf of Mexico coastline.

We’ve suffered from hurricanes, tornadoes, years-long droughts, and wildfires, but now we struggle with this season’s onslaught of unseasonable rainfall. Over these past days we’ve felt the wrath and the raw power of water.
The Texas Hill Country, situated within what is grimly known as "Flash Flood Alley," has witnessed major flood events in both greater number and intensity since at least 1990. Each deluge has etched new lessons into our collective memory, and in the operational frameworks of its government agencies. This most recent event has notched yet another record.
As the past events took shape, so did our system of warnings and preparations. Texans a generally pretty resilient just by our nature, but Mother Nature has taught us new resilience. The economic toll we have faced has been staggering, with the annual average of billion-dollar weather and climate events surging from 1.5 in the 1990s to 13.6 in the most recent five-year period (2020-2024).
A single inch of floodwater in a home may seem but a trifle, but it will on average inflict almost $30,000 in damages, and you can bet the insurance companies will fight the home owners every inch of the way to keep from paying for it. This is just one of the stark realities Texans face, and I doubt that it’s exclusive to our state.
But getting real again, the 1990s served as a critical period for Texas, forging early insights into our vulnerability to tropical systems, wandering high pressure systems colliding with Gulf moisture, resulting in intense rainfall. We saw almost 20 wet weather events that caused flooding, and realized we were in the new bullseye, and we needed to face it. The initial encounters with nature's fury laid the groundwork for the more sophisticated preparedness and response strategies that would emerge in later decades.
While most of the flooding was isolated and resulted in limited casualties, in September 1998, Tropical Storm Frances, arriving closely on the heels of Tropical Storm Charley, delivered a punishing blow. Over 10 inches of rain deluged the coastal counties of Matagorda, Brazoria, Galveston, and Chambers, pushing deep inland into Harris, Polk, San Jacinto, and Washington. The ground, already saturated, offered little absorption, and tides running 4 to 6 feet above normal choked the natural drainage into bays and rivers. This confluence of factors transformed heavy rainfall into widespread, destructive inundation.
As the waters rose, Interstates 10 and 45, and State Highway 288 in Houston sank beneath rising water. In Brazoria County, the San Bernard River swelled, impacting minor roads and barge traffic. Matagorda County experienced moderate lowland flooding, isolating communities as roadways disappeared beneath the water. The storm left more than 1,400 homes and businesses damaged or destroyed. Three lives were lost, including a father and daughter who drowned in the surf off Galveston Island.
Ann Richards was our Governor then, and her office declared Galveston, Harris, Brazoria, and Matagorda Counties disaster areas, initiating the flow of state and federal assistance. It was the first time the state realized we needed some kind of coordinated response, and Ann set that in motion.
Four years later, just before Ann lost her office to George Bush, the weakened remnants of Hurricane Rosa unleashed a "100-year event" upon the Houston area. Cypress, just north of Houston, recorded an astonishing 29.40 inches of rain. This inland deluge, though from a diminished tropical system, foreshadowed events that would define future decades.
The floods claimed 22 lives and caused an estimated $700 million in damages, a stark reminder that even a ghost of a hurricane could bring catastrophic inland flooding. Texas was still unprepared for such events, and with Bush about to take control, that would not quickly change.
The same Guadalupe River basin area that is still searching for the lost, saw similarly disastrous flash flooding in October, 1998. The rain, then like today, came as a relentless three-day assault. But this time the federal response was swift. The National Weather Service (NWS) offices in Austin/San Antonio, Houston/Galveston, and Corpus Christi, in close coordination with the West Gulf River Forecast Center (WGRFC), sprang into action.
A flash flood watch was issued days before the rains began, as the atmospheric ingredients for heavy rain converged. The NWSFO Austin/San Antonio issued an impressive 163 flash flood warnings over three days, with an average lead time of 48 minutes and no unwarned events. The WGRFC provided over 700 site-specific river stage predictions, working hand-in-hand with the Guadalupe-Blanco River Authority (GBRA) and the Lower Colorado River Authority (LCRA) to coordinate forecasts and share data.
Warnings were unequivocal, stressing that a "major, disastrous flood" was imminent. The NWS's performance in forecasting and warning dissemination was commendable, with the Bexar County Emergency Manager noting that no deaths were attributed to a lack of warning.
We still lost 31 lives despite the warnings, but no campers that time. The fatalities came primarily from motorists who ignored the warnings or motorists who drove around barricades. Warnings cannot control public behavior, but the failure to heed them underscored the need for more effective public education.
We learned a lot from that incident. The warning systems generally performed well, but Gonzales County experienced communication breakdowns due to a lack of NOAA coverage. That was our first hint of the vulnerabilities in our early warning infrastructure.
In response to the unfolding disaster, George Bush declared a state disaster, swiftly requesting federal aid for up to 60 counties. The Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) established offices to process aid applications, initiating the flow of federal assistance, including grants and loans. Property losses were estimated at $750 million in 1998 USD, equivalent to over $1.19 billion in 2020 USD.
As the new millennium dawned, so too did a period of increasingly devastating flood events, particularly in rapidly growing Texas's urban centers. These catastrophes catalyzed a fundamental shift in the state's disaster management philosophy, moving from reactive response to a proactive emphasis on long-term mitigation and resilience.
Tropical Storm Allison made landfall near Freeport on June 5, 2001, but its true wrath was unleashed by its erratic movement and prolonged, torrential rainfall over eastern Texas, especially the Greater Houston region. The storm stalled, delivering a "knockout shot" of rain on June 8-9, with some areas receiving an astonishing 37 inches in just 12 hours. Allison became the "flood of record" for Houston and Harris County, its impact rippling across 30 counties in Texas.
Warnings for Allison began early. WFO Houston/Galveston issued an initial Flash Flood Watch at 10:30 AM on June 5, more than three hours before Allison reached tropical storm strength and six hours before flash flooding began. The West Gulf River Forecast Center (WGRFC) issued Hydrometeorological Coordination Messages (HCMs) and experimental River Flood Watches, providing lead times of up to 36 hours for major flood potential. Flash Flood Warnings specifically targeted Harris County and major highways, which were later extensively flooded.
I was there for that one, holed up in a Holiday Inn on the 21st floor. From my window I witnessed the South Freeway turn from a busy highway to a river dotted with floating 18-wheeler trailers. No workers could get to the hotel, so the guests foraged for food through the powerless kitchen. On the third day the water began to ebb. Emergency responders and volunteers braved the high water in search of survivors. Although I was only there for training, I joined them, and I learned a lot.
The immediate response was a massive, collaborative undertaking involving a dozen or more federal and state agencies. On Saturday, June 9, units of the U.S. Coast Guard and the Texas National Guard, alongside local emergency agencies, rescued nearly 7,000 people. FEMA, the State of Texas, and Harris County adjusted their recovery efforts to "fast track" assistance to the worst-hit victims. The City of Houston Department of Health and Human Services (HDHHS) conducted rapid needs assessments to identify public health needs and direct assistance, with involvement from the CDC’s Emergency Response team.
Allison taught us a lot. Her unprecedented flooding prompted a deep re-evaluation of disaster management. In its wake, FEMA and the Harris County Flood Control District (HCFCD) launched the multi-year Tropical Storm Allison Recovery Project (TSARP). This initiative marked a policy adaptation, shifting from immediate recovery to proactive flood risk assessment and mitigation planning. The Dept. of Homeland Security had been making preparations for terrorist attacks since it was created after 9/11, and now some of that effort turned toward natural disasters.
TSARP utilized advanced Light Detection and Ranging (LiDAR) technology to map ground topography and remap floodplains, generating highly accurate flood risk data to inform land development and flood damage reduction projects. This set a crucial precedent for future resilience efforts across Texas.
Our preparedness came at a heavy cost. The human and economic toll of Allison was staggering. The storm caused 22-23 deaths in Texas, with a total of 25 deaths across Texas and Louisiana. Total damages were estimated at $4.8 billion, with over $5 billion in Harris County alone, making it the costliest tropical storm in U.S. history at the time. Critical infrastructure proved highly vulnerable, with the Texas Medical Center sustaining over $2 billion in damages, and 200 Houston-area schools and three major college campuses suffering significant damage estimated at over $250 million. Additionally, 95,000 cars and trucks sustained $450 million in damages, and 73,000 homes were damaged, with over 2,800 sustaining "substantial damage." Approximately 30,000 residents were housed in shelters.
After seven years of relative quiet, Hurricane Ike roared ashore at Galveston Island on September 13, 2008, as a powerful Category 2 hurricane. While its winds were formidable, the most destructive force was its immense storm surge, which reached 15 feet above sea level east of Galveston, and 14.25 feet at Sabine Pass. This surge caused widespread inundation, pushing 15-18 miles inland over Chambers County. Beyond the surge, Ike also delivered substantial rainfall, with two separate events dropping 6-10 inches and then 3-8 inches across Harris County, leading to major flooding along several bayous.
Mandatory evacuation orders were issued by state authorities for Brazoria, Chambers, Galveston, Harris (specific zip codes), Jackson, and Matagorda counties. Warnings were stark, explicitly stating that "persons not heeding evacuation orders in single family one or two story homes may face certain death." Despite these dire warnings, an estimated 40,000 residents on Galveston Island alone defied evacuation orders.
Ike passed and the response was massive. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, FEMA, DHS, and HHSC all mobilized federal assets. HUD, USDOT), USDA, the EPA, Small Business Administration set up tents and began offering services to those in need. A dozen state agencies, including the Dept.of Housing and Community Affairs, the Commission on Environmental Quality, the Division of Emergency Management, Dept. of State Health Services, and the U.S. Coast Guard (USCG).
Ike resulted in 84 deaths and caused an estimated $27 billion in damages, making it the third costliest hurricane in U.S. history at the time. The extensive destruction included 92,000 damaged homes and 7,100 damaged businesses in Harris County. The University of Texas Medical Branch in Galveston sustained $428 million in damages, and transportation systems faced $132 million in losses. The destruction of 52 oil platforms and 60% of Galveston Bay oyster beds further underscored the widespread economic and environmental impact.
Texas has faced an escalating challenge with flooding since 1990, driven by an increasing frequency and intensity of major events, especially those from tropical cyclones. These disasters have brought significant human and economic costs, with urban centers like Houston consistently bearing the brunt due to their vulnerability to extreme rainfall and storm surge.
Between May and June 2015, widespread flooding hit Texas and Oklahoma, notably affecting the Blanco River in Hays County, and cities like Houston, Austin, and Dallas. This event caused at least 14 fatalities, with some reports citing up to 31 deaths, and resulted in over $3 billion in property damage.
In August 2017, Hurricane Harvey redefined extreme flood events in Texas. Making landfall near Rockport, it stalled over southeastern Texas, dumping record rainfall, particularly in Harris County. Harvey led to 103 direct and indirect fatalities and caused an unprecedented $125 billion in damages, highlighting a critical financial vulnerability as 80% of affected households lacked flood insurance.
Tropical Storm Imelda followed in August 2019, bringing significant flooding to southeast Texas, especially along the I-10 corridor and Jefferson County. Imelda resulted in five fatalities and over $5 billion in damages, solidifying a pattern of recurring extreme rainfall in the region. Then, in May 2021, torrential rains caused widespread flooding across coastal Texas and Louisiana, heavily impacting Baton Rouge and Lake Charles, with thousands of homes and businesses damaged and total costs exceeding $1 billion. This event also underscored the issue of "recovery fatigue" in communities hit by successive disasters.
Despite these challenges, Texas has shown remarkable resilience. Federal and state agencies, including the National Weather Service (NWS), NOAA, and FEMA, have continuously refined warning systems and enhanced mitigation efforts through advanced technologies like LiDAR and improved building codes. The response to these events has become a complex, multi-sector effort, with robust coordination between various agencies for search and rescue, financial aid, and infrastructure repair. However, challenges persist, such as the public not always complying with evacuation orders and the widespread lack of flood insurance. These issues point to a need for sustained public education and policy interventions.
This most recent event tragically claimed over 100 lives, many of them children. Having worked every major flooding event from Allison to Harvey, I must ask if we coud have done better. How did our preparedness systems fail?
It unfolded with a different, and deeply concerning, set of communication failures compared to those we had developed over past events. While previous floods often saw early NWS/NOAA warnings with federal and state agency coordination, the Kerr County disaster took on the appearance of Francis in 1990. We saw breakdowns at every level.
We say a county that should have known better that lacked basic emergency alert infrastructure, despite years of acknowledged risk. We saw a denied FEMA grant request in 2017 for warning systems. In 2023, the county was offered a Texas infrastructure grant that would have covered only 5% of the cost. With no way to fund the remainder, the county declined.
The National Weather Service issued its first public flash flood alert at 1:14 AM, followed by increasingly urgent warnings, including a "life-threatening" alert at 4:03 AM urging people to "move to higher ground now." However, in rural Kerr County, cell service is spotty. Many people didn't receive the alerts, especially at Camp Mystic, where at least 27 campers and staff died.
Local officials in Kerr County were notably silent on internal NWS messaging platforms, even as neighboring counties frantically coordinated in real-time. Volunteer firefighters reportedly requested a "CodeRED" alert as early as 4:22 AM, but dispatchers delayed, citing a need for special authorization. Consequently, some residents didn't receive alerts until after 10 AM. In events like Harvey, coordinated unified commands managed environmental responses and quickly shared information across agencies. Why was Kerr County not prepared?
Although it appears that the NWS was on the ball, questions are being raised about the timeliness of the warnings. The event occurred amid concerns about staffing levels at the NWS, following "DOGE" cuts implemented by the Trump administration.
While NWS officials stated adequate staffing at the time of the disaster, former federal officials and experts have warned that indiscriminate job reductions across NWS and other weather-related agencies could result in a "brain drain," imperiling the federal government's ability to issue timely and accurate forecasts. The NWS Austin/San Antonio office, responsible for the affected region, had reportedly lost two senior staff members, including their warning coordination meteorologist, due to these funding cuts.
Critics argue that such reductions could lead to a patchwork system where critical data collection and warning dissemination suffer, potentially resulting in avoidable deaths. The July 2025 event, therefore, serves as a stark reminder that even with sophisticated federal forecasting, local preparedness and the integrity of the communication chain are paramount, and that personnel reductions, regardless of their stated intent, can have unforeseen and tragic consequences for disaster response.
I’ll not speculate, but I will observe that over the number of event that I worked, I saw continued improvement at every stage, and now we see abject failure.
It appears to be up to Texas to invest in the infrastructure and refine the warning systems to ensure their effectiveness. It should start with public education on flood risk and the importance of flood insurance, then be followed with effective communications systems to eliminate dead spots. We can no longer count on federal assistance, so we must build on past lessons. As these weather events come more often and increase in intensity, it will be vital for Texas to enhance our resilience and protect our communities from future flood challenges.
The federal government sure can’t be counted on to do it for us.