When a White House reporter asked Karoline Leavitt to explain why Texas flood warnings went out “while people were likely sleeping,” the new press secretary’s response didn’t just shut down the question—it exposed the absurdity of a media culture that expects government to control the weather, the clocks, and probably the tides, too.
Texas Floods and Media Outrage: When Did Common Sense Get Washed Away?
Central Texas faced a once-in-a-generation disaster between July 4th and 7th, as the remnants of Tropical Storm Barry collided with a Pacific moisture trough, unleashing relentless rainfall and flash flooding. Kerr County and the Texas Hill Country—long known for their vulnerability to flash floods—bore the brunt. The timing couldn’t have been worse: Fourth of July weekend, camps and riverbanks full, and families celebrating. By the time the waters receded, at least 90 souls were lost, including children at a Christian summer camp. Tragedy struck fast and hard, and as always, the media’s first instinct was to point fingers at the very people trying to manage a crisis of nature’s making.
Before dawn on July 4th, with creeks overflowing and disaster in full swing, the National Weather Service issued a series of escalating alerts. The first flood watch for Kerr County came at 1:18 p.m. on July 3rd. As forecasts worsened, more urgent warnings followed, culminating in flash flood alerts between 11:41 p.m. and 3:35 a.m. in the hardest-hit counties. The timeline was clear: meteorologists responded in real time as the threat evolved, and local officials scrambled to respond. But somehow, this wasn’t enough for some in the press corps, who saw an opportunity to play “gotcha” with the administration instead of focusing on facts and the real enemy—unpredictable, deadly weather.
Leavitt’s Response: Facts vs. Manufactured Outrage
Enter Karoline Leavitt, the new White House Press Secretary—who, in her first real trial by fire, was asked by a Hearst Television reporter why the most critical alerts were sent “while people were likely sleeping.” The implication was clear: maybe if the government had just sent out warnings at a more “convenient” hour, the disaster wouldn’t have happened. Leavitt, not missing a beat, laid out the timeline: alerts went out as soon as the data allowed, with warnings growing more urgent as the storm intensified. She reminded the press that neither the White House nor the National Weather Service controls the clock or the clouds. The real story, Leavitt argued, was the unpredictability of flash floods and the limits of even the best emergency systems when nature decides to strike in the dead of night.
Not a single headline.
Not a trending hashtag.
But had they committed a crime? The media wouldn't stop talking.In the devastating Texas floods, two young camp counselors became real-life heroes.
Two 19-year-old Mexican girls — Silvana Garza Valdez and María Paula Zárate… pic.twitter.com/V6UamqzaU8
— M.S (@MalaakSafa) July 8, 2025
Leavitt’s defense wasn’t just about the administration’s competence—it was a rebuke of the media’s tendency to demand bureaucratic perfection in the face of chaos. She pointed out that the government couldn’t dictate when a storm hits or how people receive warnings, especially while they’re sleeping. If anything, her response was a call for more personal preparedness, more resilient communities, and a little less blame-shifting from those with the luxury of hindsight. But in a world where government is supposed to be all-powerful (unless, of course, it’s enforcing actual border security or protecting taxpayers), the press seemed to expect miracles—and found them lacking.
Floods, Warnings, and the Real Questions No One in the Media Wants to Ask
This tragedy has reignited debate about the effectiveness of our emergency alert systems. Meteorologists and disaster experts agree: the National Weather Service did its job according to established protocols. Alerts were issued as the situation evolved, and the biggest challenge was simply the timing—overnight, when most people were asleep. The press, rather than focusing on what worked and what can be improved, fixated on the illusion of government omnipotence, as if another memo could have stopped the rain.
26-year-old Coast Guard rescue swimmer Scott Ruskan saved 165 lives during the Texas flash floods.
A former KPMG accountant, he coordinated Blackhawks and MH-65s to reach survivors and get them to safety. pic.twitter.com/wvvRfKeDc6
— Dudes Posting Their W’s (@DudespostingWs) July 7, 2025
Instead of using the disaster to push for practical reforms—like multi-channel alerts or robust community education—the usual suspects in the media used it to take potshots at the administration and score cheap points. And, as always, the actual victims and heroes—the families, first responders, and local officials—found themselves afterthoughts in a story more concerned with blame than solutions. The lessons here are obvious to anyone not blinded by politics: nature is unpredictable, bureaucracy is slow, and real resilience starts with individuals and communities—not with a press conference or another layer of federal oversight. Those who demand perfection from government in the middle of a flood are the same ones who shrug at open borders, runaway spending, and the erosion of American values. Maybe it’s time for a little more common sense and a lot less sanctimony.
Sources:
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