Prominent Houston criminal defense attorney Randy Schaffer went to Facebook late Monday afternoon to write 637 heartbreaking words about the last few horrifying minutes that he spent with his wife Mollie on the banks of the Guadalupe River before she was swept away by “a river raging like Niagara Falls.”
Schaffer, who has practiced criminal law for more than five decades and is a 1973 graduate of the University of Texas School of Law, was staying at the River Inn Resort and Conference Center to celebrate his 46-year reunion when, in the pre-dawn hours Friday morning, a historic and deadly flash flood claimed the life of Mollie Schaffer and the lives of about 100 other people.
On Sunday, Schaffer’s son, liver transplant surgeon Randy Schaffer III, posted on Instagram that “It has now been over 48 hours and while we continue to hold on to hope, we also begin to acknowledge that the efforts of those on the ground have mostly now transitioned from rescue to recovery — for Mom and all who remain unaccounted for.”
On Monday, Schaffer himself posted on Facebook his first-person account of the dramatic and tragic details, including the last words of his wife that he says saved his life. This is his account.
Mollie and I were at our 46th annual reunion with our best friends from law school at the River Inn, on the banks of the Guadalupe River in Hunt, Texas. When we went to bed on Thursday night, the weather was fine.
The manager banged on our door at 3:00 a.m. on Friday and said that we had to evacuate immediately because the river was about to overflow the banks. I looked out the window and saw the river raging like Niagara Falls. Mollie asked him what we should do. He said to turn left out of the parking lot, drive about 100 yards, turn right, and drive to the top of the hill. That proved to be her death sentence. He should have unlocked a two-story building at the base of the parking lot and told the guests to go to the second floor. Ultimately, every other guest was spared when, minutes later, he unlocked that building, and they went to the second floor. However, we had already left the property in Mollie’s SUV.
Mollie turned left out of the parking lot as directed but quickly realized that she wouldn’t be able to drive 100 yards to go up the hill, as other cars were making a U-turn and coming back. Instead, she stopped on the shoulder of the road. I looked out the passenger window and saw the water rising up the door. The car started floating, hit a tree, and spun onto the road. We knew that we had to get out of the car. However, the doors wouldn’t open. The river was coming hard through the walkway of the River Inn towards the road. Mollie lowered the front windows and said to dive out feet first. I tried, but my seat was low, the window was high, and I fell back onto the seat. The last words she ever spoke were, “You have to push harder.” I pushed as hard as I could and went out the window.
I was carried underwater by the current towards the river. I had no control of my body and figured this was the end. I was propelled into a pole that turned out to be 25 yards from the river. I wrapped my arms around the pole and climbed up until my head was above water. I looked for and called to Mollie but didn’t see her or the car. She had been swept into the river.
I held onto that pole for an hour, climbing up as the water rose. When I was about six inches from the top of the pole, the water started to recede. At some point, my feet hit the ground. It was pitch black, and I couldn’t see. There was no power at the River Inn. Once I determined that I could safely cross the road, I stood under a walkway until daylight. I then walked down the road looking for Mollie and the car but didn’t see them.
Mollie was recovered on Sunday. I identified a photo of her ring last night.
Mollie died in a manner consistent with how she lived — selflessly taking care of someone else before she took care of herself. She wouldn’t leave the car until she was sure that I had done so. She saved my life. It wasn’t my day to die. I wish that it hadn’t been her’s.
Mollie is at the medical examiner’s office in Austin. We are trying to get her to Houston so we can make the funeral arrangements. We hope to have the funeral on Sunday.
I met Mollie in June of 1967, weeks after we graduated from high school. We’ve been together ever since, separated only at the end by the raging waters of the Guadalupe River.
I appreciate your offers of support. Much love to all.