Lessons from the 4th of July

I grew up on the rivers of the Texas Hill Country. The Frio was always the crown jewel, but over the years it’s become overcrowded. More recently, my wife and I found a couple of quiet stretches of the upper Guadalupe where we could raft all day without seeing another soul. Those days feel even more special now—last summer, the river went completely dry for the first time I can remember.

On the night of July 3rd, the forecast called for rain. We expected showers, but the idea of a flood never crossed my mind.

The next morning, after the water had surged through, I decided to fly an FPV drone downstream from Comfort. I’d been trying to explain to local rescue teams why FPV drones are different from the standard drones they already use. Helicopters and traditional drones fly high above the tree canopy, but FPV can skim just inches above the water, weaving into places no boat or person could ever reach.

I shot a clip that went viral—so much so that it was played on CNN during a Ted Cruz press conference in Kerrville. But the atmosphere was tense, and everyone was on edge. It didn’t feel like the right moment to pitch the idea of FPV as a formal search-and-rescue tool.

A few days later, the news broke that a drone had hit a helicopter, grounding it mid-mission. Reports called it an amateur pilot, and the FAA issued a Temporary Flight Restriction (TFR). Suddenly, my phone and social feeds lit up with strangers blaming “drone pilots” as if we were all the same person. What struck me was how different this felt from past accidents—usually the name of the pilot is released quickly, such as during the Palisades fire in Los Angeles. But this time, no one was identified.

Weeks later, Kerrville authorities clarified the truth: it wasn’t a hobbyist at all, but an authorized search-and-rescue drone that hit the helicopter.

👉 Kerrville clarifies drone involved in helicopter incident was authorized

FPV drone footage I shot of the Guadalupe river used for a Ted Cruz press conference

In the middle of all this, I called DJI directly. Off the record, they told me that just days before the flood, the current administration had shut down the data link that normally supplies DJI pilots with real-time FAA information. The move wasn’t about safety—it was part of a larger effort to squeeze DJI out of the American market.

Looking back on those days, I can’t help but think about what an FPV search team could have done. It wouldn’t have saved lives—the floodwaters were too powerful—but it could have sped up the painful process of searching the river. In a situation like that, every hour matters for families waiting for answers.

And that’s why I’m concerned about the administration’s broader push to ban DJI drones. DJI isn’t perfect, but right now no American manufacturer comes close in terms of reliability, flight time, and camera quality. These drones are the very tools that firefighters, police, and first responders depend on. Taking them away doesn’t make us safer—it makes rescue missions slower, riskier, and less effective. I fully support the idea of using American-made drones, but banning Chinese drones simply because they’re better only makes America weaker.

The Fourth of July flood was a reminder of how fragile life can be—and how powerful the right tools can be when every second counts. FPV drones can do what no helicopter or standard drone can. The technology is here. The need is here. With the right support, a team of ten skilled FPV pilots and a proper ground crew could cover and film 20 miles of river in a single day. The kits are small, the support vehicles could be local, and the cost would be modest compared to the value.

I believe this should be built at the federal level—an FPV search-and-rescue unit that can be dispatched into disaster zones within hours.